Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes (40 page)

As they crossed through the kitchen
Daniel said goodbye to Maggie who didn’t turn away from her place
at the stove. Shrugging, Daniel followed Helen back towards the
front door.

Once they were in the hallway, away
from Maggie’s prying ears, he said quietly “Can I come again
please?”

Helen marvelled at the humility in his
voice. She had to say this much, he seemed to both sincerely want
to see his children, and also to respect her right to say when and
where.

“Yes. Please give me notice next time
and we can arrange for you to visit when they are awake.”

“Of course, I should have rung first. I
wasn’t sure if you would let me come, that was all.”

Helen looked into his face, trying to
understand this new Daniel, brimming with nervousness, tenderness,
respect. It wasn’t the Daniel she knew and she felt wrong-footed by
it. It was difficult to maintain her resentment in the face of his
passive affection for both her and the twins.

He seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted
to kiss her goodbye but was mindful of her previous reaction. He
settled for holding out his hand. Helen found herself shaking it
without knowing why, and was furious that his proximity seemed to
still have some effect on her. She was relieved when the door shut
behind him.

The squeaks and groans of the train
exacerbated Marcio’s growing headache. Rubbing at his temples, he
glared at his reflection in the window, as if looking for
answers.

What have I done?

He thought back to the time he had
spent with Susan. It had seemed so exciting and he had been swept
along by her passion, but now, with distance, he felt dreadful.

I should tell Helen, I know I
should.

The face in the glass stared blankly
back at him. He didn’t know how to tell her, it felt like such a
betrayal. Helen would see it that way, certainly. Besides, when he
thought about it, what was there to tell? Time enough for
confessions when the need arose.

Chapter
Fourteen

Helen closed the door on the last of her
baby-group friends and lent her shoulders against the door, relief
and exhaustion making even the short walk to the lounge seem too
long a journey. She hadn’t realised how tiring it could be just
talking. The words wouldn’t always come, and she had found herself
fighting tears when James and Jasmine both began to cry at the same
time.

The girls had been brilliant, cuddling
the little ones to their giant bumps, each a little teary
themselves at what was to come for them. Knowing that they were
also scared, Helen had put on a brave face, assuring them the
labour was fine, and that the twins slept loads and fed well.

No point worrying them now, it’s too
late to do anything but rest
, she thought to herself. It felt
strange, being separated from them all by virtue of the fact that
her babies were on the outside. She had thought it would be
comforting, having her antenatal group around her, but her
overwhelming emotion was one of loneliness.

It must just be the hormones, the lack
of sleep. When they all have their babies we’ll be a riotous
chaotic marvellous group. I just have to be patient and hold it all
together.

Eventually she and her mother managed
to rock both babies to sleep. Maggie curled up with a book, and
Helen took the opportunity to lie down in bed. Picking up her
phone, she wondered what Marcio was doing. She hadn’t heard from
him since he left that morning.

Come to think of it, I have no idea
what assignment he’s on
, she mused, shocked at the fact.
Normally they discussed each other’s assignments in depth, seeing
things from their unique perspectives and often adding a new
element to the work.

A sneaky question entered her mind
about what exactly had taken Marcio to Bristol. It seemed strange
for him to leave London so soon after the twins were born.

At that point her phone vibrated, and
she snatched it up eagerly.

It was great to see you today, and to
meet our children. I wish I could go back and change the past. I
should have walked you down the aisle, proud that you were bearing
my children. I was an idiot. Is it too late for us to try again? I
still love you. Daniel x

Helen’s hands shook as she read the
message. Complicated emotions churned in her stomach. She knew she
should be furious, should tell him to leave her alone. She didn’t
believe his protestations of love; how could he suddenly decide he
still loved her, after all this time without so much as an email?
And yet, he had seemed so genuine, the tenderness in his face, in
his voice, when he saw James and Jasmine, it couldn’t have been
faked surely?

Her mind was writhing with troubling
thoughts as she put her phone down and let her head sink into the
pillow.

She didn’t hear from Marcio until late
in the evening, when he called to check that she and the twins were
okay, and to say he missed her. His voice had sounded distant,
reserved. Helen tried to find out more about the assignment without
sounding like she was prying, but Marcio had been strangely
reticent. As she hung up the phone Helen felt, for the first time,
that Marcio was just beyond her reach. It was an uncomfortable
feeling; one she hoped would evaporate when he returned the
following evening.

It was late by the time Marcio got home,
and he looked exhausted.

Leaning over to kiss Helen’s cheek,
where she sat curled up with James feeding, he stroked her hair
briefly.

“Sorry I’m so late; Friday night on the
trains is chaos.”

“How was the assignment?” Helen looked
up into Marcio’s face. She saw his eyes shift away, before
returning to hers.

“Fine. Do you mind if we talk about it
later? I desperately need to grab a shower.”

“No, of course not, that’s fine. Have
you eaten?” Helen swallowed the fear lurking in her throat, nearly
choking her.

“Yes, I grabbed something at the
station. How are the twins?”

“They’ve been fine. Mum’s a star.”

The conversation felt stilted to Helen,
awkward. Marcio seemed to sense it too.

“Sorry, darling, I’m shattered.” He saw
her draw breath, “I know you’re tired too. I just don’t have many
words. Let me grab that shower, and I’ll be back to my usual
wonderful self, I promise.” He flashed her the ghost of a smile and
was gone.

When he had left the room, Helen let
the tears fall. Her mother was packing, her train left early the
following morning. With Marcio distant, Helen felt utterly
abandoned. Cuddling James to her chest, she whispered something she
hadn’t said to the twins in a long time.

“I think it might just be us from now
on, my cherubs. Mummy will look after you, no matter what.”

Daniel’s words seemed to haunt Helen, as
she struggled through day after relentless day. The life they might
have had, with a nanny and a cleaner. Would the twins be better if
someone competent saw to their needs? Someone who didn’t weep all
the time, who knew what to do when they cried. She hadn’t heard
from Daniel since the text, but his presence lingered in the
apartment. Marcio seemed always absent during the day, chasing one
assignment after another. Helen was grateful that he was paying the
bills, but she missed him. Missed talking to him, holding him. They
were like shift workers: she handed over the babies when he got in
from work, and went straight to bed to get some precious sleep
before one of them woke demanding milk. When that happened, Marcio
would stand apologetically in the doorway, holding one if not two
screaming babies, looking helpless.

One evening he saw the exhaustion on
Helen’s face as he stood in the doorway and felt as if he were her
torturer rather than her partner.

“Let me bottle feed them. Just
once?”

“I don’t have the energy to pump milk.
I can barely keep up with their demand as it is.” Helen sounded
cross, defensive.

“Then let me give them some
formula.”

“No!” Her eyes flashed at him. “We’ve
been through this. The breastfeeding counsellor said formula was
like giving them poison. I can’t do that.”

She nearly added,
What would Daniel
think? He already thinks I can’t cope, that I’m a bad mother.
She knew Marcio would say Damn Daniel, what did it matter what he
thought, so she said nothing.

“Helen, you can’t go on like this.
You’re barely getting 2-hours sleep at a time. You need a
break.”

“They’re only three weeks old. I am not
filling their bodies with poison. I am their mother, I can feed
them.”

Marcio drew breath to continue his
argument, but one look at Helen’s closed face made him hesitate. He
didn’t know what to do for the best. Privately he didn’t think
formula would poison the babies. Obviously it wasn’t as good as
Helen’s milk, but surely it would be better for the twins if Helen
got some sleep?

When Marcio woke later that night, it
was to find Helen slumped on the floor, sobbing hysterically, and
baby Jasmine lying on the bed, screaming.

“What happened?” He was instantly
awake, picking up Jasmine, before walking round the bed to Helen,
hugging her with his free arm.

“I CAN’T DO THIS,” Helen screamed,
before collapsing again in uncontrollable sobs. James began to cry
from his basket, and Marcio sat, helpless, wondering where his
priorities lay.

“Give her here.” Helen bit out the
words through her sobs. Marcio hesitated.

“GIVE HER TO ME. I WON’T HURT HER!”

Shocked at the rage on Helen’s face,
Marcio mutely handed Jasmine to Helen and went over to pick up
James. Both babies were screaming now, sensing that all was not
right with their mummy.

Slowly Helen controlled her sobs,
shushing Jasmine and cradling her to her chest. She reached out an
arm for James, and cuddled him close. With both babies cradled in
her arms, Helen sat on the floor and rocked backwards and forwards,
crooning gently between her hiccupping sobs.

It terrified Marcio. He felt helpless,
excluded; bewildered. He turned on the bedside light and sat
silently on the floor beside her.

Eventually Helen looked up and the
expression on her face was like a punch in Marcio’s solar plexus.
He had never seen such despair.

“I’m not fit to be a mother. I got
angry, when Jasmine wouldn’t latch. I threw her on the bed. I
threw
her! She’s three weeks old.”

She began crying again, quietly this
time, as if she didn’t want to disturb the now sleeping babies.

“Darling, it’s okay.”

Helen looked up. “It’s NOT OKAY.” Her
voice rose again, and the sobs began anew.

“You’re exhausted. You need a break.
Let me take them into the spare room for the rest of the night, so
you can get some sleep.”

Helen looked mutely into Marcio’s blue
eyes. She couldn’t work out why he was still with them. She was a
wreck. She rarely spoke to him anymore. They had barely cuddled
since the twins were born; she couldn’t remember the last time
they’d made love or even kissed. What was in it for him? Why was he
staying? They weren’t even his children.

Her mind felt clouded and heavy. She
couldn’t seem to think what to do. Closing her eyes, she squeezed
them tightly as if trying to stem the endless tears.

Marcio gently took one baby at a time,
lay them in their baskets, then carried one basket at a time
quietly from the room. Helen heard the springs creak as he climbed
into the bed in the spare room.

I should go in there, tell him not to
be silly. They’re my children, not his, they’re my responsibility,
not his.

Somehow she couldn’t find the strength.
Crawling back onto the bed she lay her head down on the pillow. The
clouds in her mind became darker and darker until she dropped into
a heavy restless sleep.

Marcio stayed home in the morning, as
the health visitor was due. He wanted to have a private word about
Helen. In the end he didn’t need to.

“You look dreadful.” Zoe the health
visitor smiled to take the sting from her words.

Helen laughed. “Thanks. We had a bad
night.”

“Are they not sleeping?”

“They do, but they seem to take it in
turns.”

“Are you bottle feeding at all?”

“I don’t have the strength to pump
milk.” Helen wrapped her arms around herself as if to stave off the
cold.

“What about formula?” Zoe’s voice was
casual.

Helen looked up, shocked. “I thought
formula was poison?”

“Who told you that?” Zoe looked
genuinely appalled.

“The breastfeeding counsellor.”

“Ah. Sometimes they can be a little
evangelical. Not that it’s a bad thing,” she added hastily, as if
realising it wasn’t her place to pass judgement.

“Of course breast is best for your
children, but mix-feeding can be almost as good. Better in some
ways, if it means you get more sleep. You’re likely to breastfeed
for longer if you get a break in the early days. I’ve seen many
women give up breastfeeding entirely inside a month because it’s so
hard. And they only have one baby.”

She smiled at Helen’s sceptical
expression and continued, “Besides, if you use the cartons, they’re
fully sterile, there is very little risk. And you need only use
them now and then, to give yourself a break. You might find you can
use a bottle to get them into a better routine, and then return to
breastfeeding exclusively. Any effects from the formula will be
gone from their bodies in a couple of weeks.”

“Really?” Helen looked at Zoe shrewdly.
“You wouldn’t just say that because it’s what I need to hear?”

“I would never do that.”

“But the way the counsellor spoke, it
was like we would undo all the good of breastfeeding the minute a
drop of formula passed their lips.”