by Jackie Clune
“Uh-oh—you woke them up,” said Cesca, dipping her finger into the trifle.
Soph and Greg sprang into action, grabbing a twin each and jiggling like mad. The next two minutes would be key—if they could get the twins back to sleep now, they might just get an hour’s peace. Oscar tried to busy himself by filling everyone’s glass for a toast, which he insisted had to be done right away, and inadvertently nudged Harry’s car seat. So as not to miss out on any of the fun, Harry decided to wake up and wail, too. Laura and Cesca started maniacally jumping around, singing the Tweenies theme tune in what appeared to be an altruistic helping gesture—shut the babies up by distraction—but was in fact just an excuse to join in the noise-making.
“Don’t pick him up right away, Jules, let him cry for a bit, you’re making a rod for your own back!” warned Amy’s mum as Jules stubbed out her fag and got up.
“He’s too young for controlled crying, Mrs. S, I think he needs burping,” sighed Jules.
Amy and Joe surveyed the bedlam for a moment.
“What the bloody hell was I thinking, Joe?” Amy laughed. “I mean, can you imagine what I’d be like with a baby? I think I must have been having some kind of an early menopause or something.”
“I think you’d be a great mum,” said Joe, somewhat too broodily for Amy’s liking.
“Hey, don’t even go there. Your two monsters are more than enough for me, even part-time. And besides, your tubes are tied, or had you forgotten, Mr. Medical Man?”
“It’s reversible. Although the procedure is only about ten percent successful.”
“Exactly. I’m not having anyone messing around with your gonads now I’ve got my evil hands on them! Now do me a massive favor, will you? I love my friends very much, but I have a feeling if I stay here one moment longer, I will start rocking and moaning in a corner before spreading my own poo all over the walls. Get me out of here!”
“We can’t!” said Joe, delighted by the idea. “Can we?”
“They won’t notice—they’re busy, and Mum’s got the kids tonight.”
“True.”
“I know a place where they do the best champagne cocktails in London.”
“Sounds interesting . . .”
“The Oxo Tower.”
“Oooh.”
“Exactly. And they have a ‘no kids’ policy.”
“Sounds ideal.”
“On one condition. That you promise to get me drunk, shag me senseless, and let me be foul to your children all day tomorrow.”
“I do.”
And with that, she dragged him gently out of the front door and into the lift. Inside the flat the chaos raged on, and Amy’s stomach lurched as they began their descent. Was it the motion or the by now familiar feeling of excitement Joe promoted in her? He was great at going along with her need for spontaneity. Amy smiled up at him. This morning there had been not three but four magpies on her roof garden. Those bastards had started all this. Four for a boy. She silently thanked God she’d found hers.
It was so much better having a life than creating one.
Jackie Clune studied drama at Kent University and, after six years as an academic at London University, became well known as a cabaret singer, comedian, writer, radio broadcaster, and actress, even appearing in the BBC’s wildly popular EastEnders television show. She lives in London with her partner and children.