From Here to Maternity (15 page)

‘I do so know, Yuri,’ I said indignantly. ‘I spent every second with him for the first seven weeks and now I only leave him for three and half hours a day. All the books say that babies need routine and that you shouldn’t feed them on demand.’

‘Oh, those old books will be the death of you. Every baby is different. What do these so-called experts know? I bet you half of them don’t even have children of their own.’

She had a point. I wasn’t sure that any of them had their own kids. Still, everyone swore by routines if you wanted to have any kind of life of your own. And, selfish though it may sound, I did want a life of my own. I adored Yuri but I loved work too. Three and half hours a day wasn’t so much to ask for – was it?

‘In my day your child dictated your life for the first few years, not the other way round. You girls try to do too much. You can’t work, be a mother and a good wife all at the same time. Something has to give,’ continued Mum.

‘Are you implying that I’m a bad mother?’

‘I never said that, just that you’re trying to do too much. You look worn out and you need to mind yourself, Emma. Pregnant women shouldn’t overdo it. I’m not sure you should be on your feet all day working. I never worked when you were young.’

The fact that my mother had never worked since the day she got married thirty-seven years ago was apparently irrelevant. After having children, she had devoted herself to us, but sometimes when I was growing up, I’d wished she had worked. All of her considerable focus had been on us and sometimes it was a lot to bear. When Babs came along I was thrilled that Mum had something to take her mind off me, my school work, development, growth, hormones… and whatever else she chose to home in on.

‘In five months’ time, I’ll have two kids under the age of two. I’m working now to try and save some money and keep my hand in – I love what I do. I know I’ll have to give up for a good while when the new baby arrives but I do hope to go back to it eventually.’

‘Ridiculous notions,’ sniffed Mum. ‘And you don’t need to worry so much about money. I’ve opened a bank account for Yuri and all the money you pay me goes into it. In a few months’ time it’ll have added up to a nice sum so you can use it to buy him anything he needs.’

‘Oh, Mum! Thanks,’ I said, going over to hug her. ‘You’re brilliant.’

‘Well, I know how bad you are at saving so I decided to do it for you. Now you can stop fretting and when the new baby arrives you can give up that old job and put your children first, like the women of my generation did.’

‘I really appreciate that, Mum, but I don’t believe working part-time is a bad thing. In fact, I think it was because your generation of women devoted their whole lives to their children that so many of them ended up in their forties at a complete loss for what to do. When their kids were in school all day, the mothers were bored, dissatisfied, restless and, in some cases, depressed. The fact that you had Babs when you were forty meant that you hadn’t time to sit around wondering what to do with your life, you were still a full-time mum with a dependent baby.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘It’s true, Mum. You told me yourself that lots of your friends regretted not having gone to college or travelled before settling down and felt that it was too late for them in their forties. I admit that my generation is more selfish. We’re having children later because we spent our twenties studying, travelling and experiencing life. So when we do get round to having babies we’re used to a certain lifestyle and don’t want to give it up. We spend ten years building up a career, earning good money – and once the children arrive we’re supposed to give it all up and be happy about it? It’s not easy, especially when you like what you do. Having to get handouts from your husband every time you want to buy a pair of shoes or get your hair cut is alien to us, not to mention frustrating.’

‘Those women’s libbers have a lot to answer for. The most important thing in life is family. You need to get your priorities straight.’

‘Yuri is the most important thing in my life and I intend to do everything in my power to give him a wonderful upbringing, but a happy mother equals a happy child. If that means leaving him for a few hours a day, then so be it. Besides, it looks to me like he prefers being here with you than at home with me.’

‘Practice makes perfect, Emma.’

I sighed. The discussion was going round in circles.

‘I’m doing my best, Mum. Sometimes I think I’m just not very good at it.’

‘All new mothers doubt themselves. It’s overwhelming at first. You have to keep at it. It gets better and easier. And you’re doing a great job. This little man has thrived in the last few months,’ she said, kissing Yuri’s cheek.

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Course I do, pet,’ she said, handing him to me. ‘By the way, if you’re planning on landing the second child on me as well, I’ll be looking for double pay. There’ll be no two-for-the-price-of-one in this crèche.’

When I got home, James was on the phone to his mother. I always knew when he was on to her because (a) his accent was much more pronounced, and (b) he became all formal. There was lots of ‘Yes, Mother, I agree’ type of chat.

‘Sounds marvellous… Yes, I know you’re dying to see Yuri… Yes, he’s settled in nicely now so it won’t be a problem bringing him over… Super… All right, Mother, see you in a few weeks…’

I sat down with Yuri. ‘Bring him over where?’

‘To visit my parents. We’re going over the weekend after next. It’s my father’s seventy-first birthday so it’ll tie in nicely.’

‘But I don’t think Yuri’s ready to be taken to a new environment. He’ll hate going on a plane again so soon.’

‘It’s been over two months, Emma, he’ll be fine. Besides, it’s ludicrous that my family haven’t seen him yet. They were a bit put out by being told not to come for Christmas.’

I had banned the Hamiltons from coming to stay with us for Christmas. The adoption people had told us specifically not to crowd Yuri with new faces when he first came home with us. It would be too much for him. He needed to settle in slowly and get used to his new surroundings and new parents, without the cast of
Gandhi
queuing up to see him. ‘I was following the social workers’ instructions, James. Yuri wouldn’t have been able to cope with so many new people all at once.’

‘Fine, but now it’s time they met him. I’m dying to introduce my son to my family. It’ll be great fun. He can get to know his cousins while we’re there.’

I didn’t want James’s nephew Thomas – now six years old and a complete brat – anywhere near my precious son. Mind you, the twin girls were sweet and it would be nice for him to meet them. The thought of the dreaded Imogen, my sister-in-law, made my skin crawl. When James and I first got married she kept telling me to hurry up and get pregnant. When she discovered I was having problems conceiving and had tried fertility treatments, including IVF, she told me I wasn’t trying hard enough. When she found out we were going to adopt, she endeared herself to me even further by telling me it wouldn’t be the same as having children of my own.

‘How long do we have to go for?’ I asked.

‘Three days.’

I groaned.

‘Emma, your parents see Yuri all the time. It’s about time mine met their grandson. I really don’t think it’s unreasonable to stay three days.’

‘You’re right, it isn’t. I just hope Yuri doesn’t act up because of the change of environment – and Imogen better keep her comments to herself.’

‘You’ll probably find you get on much better now that you have babies in common. She can give you tips on raising children,’ said the ever-optimistic James.

‘Tips on how to raise the son of Satan?’

‘Emma!’

‘Thomas is a brat’

‘I admit he’s not the nicest child, but that’s a bit strong.’

Not strong enough, I thought grimly.

Chapter 17

Things were going pretty well for Babs. She was now getting the best slots on BFL and the viewers loved her. She was more flirty than the other presenters and also, at times, brutally honest. When she was selling the gardening products, she opened the section by informing the audience that she hated gardening, but if that was what floated their boat, these were the products to buy.

‘If I can use this thing to dig up muck then, believe me, it must be good, because I haven’t a clue what I’m doing. So if you prefer gardening to clubbing you should either get a life or buy one of these.’

Billy seemed very pleased with her and was paying her a lot more attention now that she had proven herself to be very talented. He was often very flirty with her and Babs basked in their banter. The more she saw of him, the more attractive he seemed. With work going well, the only problem in her life was her living arrangements. She was fed up at Sean and Shadee’s – it was really boring, and on the rare occasions she went out with her workmates, Sean insisted on asking her what time she’d be home. It was like being fifteen again. She needed a place of her own, but on two hundred quid a week it was impossible. She asked Billy for a raise every second day, but he reminded her she still had six weeks left on her original contract, but after that, if she was still selling well, he might consider a small one.

Babs came home from work often to find Sean and Shadee sitting at the table looking at wedding plans. It was all they talked about. If they weren’t smooching on the couch declaring their undying love for each other, they were going on about their wedding.

‘Oh, God, not more wedding chat. Haven’t you finalized it yet?’ she said one day, as she grabbed a beer from the fridge.

‘How’s work?’ Sean asked. ‘Sold any frozen burgers lately?’

‘God, you’re a riot.’

‘Come on, what vital product are you offering the world now? Weed-killer?’

‘Semi-precious jewellery, actually, and I shifted loads of it. I’m definitely on track for promotion soon. Billy thinks I’m brilliant. Anyway, I can’t sit around here chatting – I’ve got to get ready. One of the girls is having a birthday bash in some bar in town.’

‘What bar?’

‘Dunno, some new place in Soho.’

‘Soho’s not a safe place to hang out.’ Sean frowned.

‘Oh,
puuuur-lease,
spare me the big-brother routine. Besides, what are my options? Staying in again with you two? I’d rather stick needles in my eyes,’ she said, and flounced off to change.

Half an hour later Babs came out wearing a skintight red mini-dress that left little – if anything – to the imagination. Sean looked up from the couch and choked on his drink. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘I hope there’s a pair of trousers to go with that top.’

‘Funny guy.’

‘You’re not going out to Soho in that.’

‘I think you’ll find that’s exactly what I’m doing.’

‘Get changed.’

‘Get a life,’ said Babs, putting on her lipstick.

‘Do you want to get propositioned by every sleazeball in town?’

‘Sounds a lot better than than sitting in here going out of my mind with boredom.’

‘I’m serious. You’re not going out like that. You look like a hooker.’

‘Well, then, I’ll blend right in in Soho, won’t I?’

‘Babs.’ Sean got up and walked towards her.

‘Don’t wait up,’ she said, and sprinted out the door.

The party was in a new bar on Wardour Street called Barcelona. It was crowded with good-looking young people and Babs felt right at home. This was more like it. This was the London she had been expecting – glamour, cocktails and gorgeous people. She made her way over to the corner where a crowd of her colleagues had gathered. Billy was in the midst of it, buying drinks for everyone. His cheeks were flushed and he had a glint in his eye. ‘I think you forgot your skirt, love,’ he said, and winked at Babs.

‘Shut up and buy me a drink. Make it a strong one.’

Billy bought her a blue cocktail that tasted like rocket fuel.

‘So, when are you going to give me a raise? I have to get out of my brother’s place – it’s driving me nuts living there.’

‘You have the contract. No raise until the three months are up. After that we can talk about it. But I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you. We’re not flush with cash.’

‘Oh, yeah? How come you drive a brand new Porsche, then?’

‘Cos I’m the boss.’

‘I’m brilliant at selling and you know it. If you don’t pay me more, I may have to look elsewhere. I’m sure QVC would like to hire me.’

‘You’ve been on the telly five minutes, love. Don’t get ahead of yourself.’

‘I know my own worth,’ said Babs, flicking her hair. ‘You said yourself no one could shift those gardening products but I managed to.’

‘Newsflash, Babs: selling a few shovels doesn’t make you a celebrity.’

‘Admit it, Billy, I’m the best you’ve seen.’

‘Well, you don’t lack confidence. What did they feed you over there in Ireland? Super spuds or something?’

‘Do I look like I eat carbohydrates?’

Billy looked her up and down. ‘You don’t look like you’ve eaten this year. How come you don’t have a bloke?’

‘Because you don’t pay me enough to go out and meet any. Not to mention the fact that living with my brother is the biggest chastity belt of all.’

‘Poor Babs, my heart bleeds. Here, let me buy you another drink to make up for your non-existent social life.’

He came back with two more blue cocktails. ‘Don’t you have to drive back to Brighton tonight?’ Babs asked, as Billy knocked back his drink.

‘No, I’ve got a small place near the studio for when I’m out after work.’

‘Doesn’t your wife mind?’

‘She prefers it if I stay in the apartment when I’m pissed.’

‘Flash car, a house in Brighton and an apartment in London, but you can’t afford to give me a raise?’ said Babs, lifting her eyebrows.

‘Drink your drink and stop harassing me. You’re like a dog with a bone.’

‘How often do you use your apartment?’

Billy shrugged. ‘Once a week, I suppose. Twice, maybe.’

‘So it’s empty most of the time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, then, why don’t I live in it? I’ll be near the studio, I’ll pay the bills and it won’t be left empty all the time – which is a waste of a good apartment, if you think about it.’