by Bloom, Tracy
‘I’ve not packed anything for Logan,’ replied Abby. ‘I thought you were doing that?’
‘Oh right,’ said Braindead. ‘Yeah, sure. No problem. Come on, chap,’ he said, swinging Logan up into his arms. ‘You, me and a suitcase have got some serious clothes wrangling to do. And don’t you worry. Winky sunblock will be purchased… somewhere. I’ll call Ben. Perhaps he’s got some.’
* * *
‘There’s some really cool bars near where we are staying,’ said Abby as they sat down to eat once the four suitcases plus nappy bag were lined up in the hall ready for their early morning pick-up. ‘Cheryl at work said there are some amazing cocktail bars in the town. She said she’d had the best negroni she had ever tasted there.’
‘Negroni?’ asked Braindead. ‘What’s that?’
‘A cocktail!’
‘A cocktail that has groan in the middle of it? Is that the groan for the hangover it’s going to give you?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ replied Abby sharply. ‘I’ve never had one.’
‘It’s going to be good, isn’t it, going on holiday with everyone?’ said Braindead. ‘Be great for Jack and Logan to spend the week together. How cool is that? Their first lads’ holiday and still in nappies!’
‘They won’t remember it.’
‘But we will,’ replied Braindead. ‘Our first family holiday. You don’t forget that, do you? And we get to share it with Ben and Katy.’
‘That is a bonus,’ said Abby. ‘I’m already eyeing them up to babysit whilst we have a couple of nights out, drinking negronis.’
‘Oh,’ said Braindead. ‘Not sure how that will work. I mean, where would we put Logan to bed?’
‘He could bed down with Ben and Katy.’
‘But Logan doesn’t sleep through the night. He’ll wake them up and Millie and Jack.’
Abby stared back at him. ‘I’m very aware he doesn’t sleep through the night,’ she replied. ‘These bags under my eyes are painfully aware that we haven’t had a full night’s sleep in forever.’ She bit her lip. ‘Which is why I need to go and get absolutely smashed on negronis on holiday to try and forget that fact and I shall be doing that with or without you.’
He watched as she got up. They never argued before Logan arrived. Neither of them had taken life seriously enough. Turned out that sheer exhaustion somehow made life a lot more serious.
* * *
An hour later, Braindead climbed into bed beside Abby. He curled up behind her and wrapped his arm over the side of her body. She smelled amazing. She always smelled amazing. Like she showered in water entirely different to him. He didn’t understand why Abby wanted to go out partying whilst they were on holiday. He’d been there, done that and literally bought the T-shirt. From Faliraki, if he remembered correctly. I survived the Faliraki Pizza Challenge was still a favourite that he often wore for bed. It reminded him of that infamous night when he ate an entire twenty-four-inch pizza. Possibly one of the most triumphant nights of his life. But he wouldn’t want to go back to that sort of holiday. No way. He couldn’t wait to take Logan to the beach for the first time and build sandcastles with him and paddle in the sea. In fact, Braindead thought he had never been more excited about going on holiday than this one. His first as a dad. Their first as a family.
He cuddled up behind Abby and she snuggled back, pushing up against him. That was normally the sign that sex could be welcome but he wasn’t sure after her earlier outburst. But opportunities had been very few and far between recently since the arrival of Logan. Maybe he should go for it. Who knew when they might get another chance? He reached his arm around, putting his hand under her camisole top. She moaned quietly. They were on. A small cry emerged from the baby monitor beside his bed. He froze. All was quiet. He gently stroked Abby’s belly. She didn’t push his hand away. Another cry came through the monitor, then another and then a full-on wail. He got out of bed and went through to Logan’s room.
Chapter Three
‘Hi honeys, I’m home,’ shouted Daniel as he pushed open the door of their apartment in the fashionable waterfront area of Leeds. He placed his workbag on the occasional table in the hall and walked through into the vast open space of the kitchen-cum-living-room, cum-dining-room, cum-newly-allocated-play-area. And there they were. Gabriel, his husband of almost two years, with Silvie, their nine-month-old little baby girl, nestling on his chest. They looked like they both should be in some arty black and white photo shoot, the scene was so gorgeous. Daniel gasped slightly and just watched for a moment before walking into the room.
‘I bought you both something,’ he declared, dangling a large Harvey Nichols carrier bag in front of him.
‘Oh Daniel,’ said Gabriel in his still fairly thick Spanish accent. ‘You must stop spoiling us.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Daniel. ‘That’s my job.’ The truth was that Daniel really did think it was his job. It had been decided from the moment they said they wanted children that Gabriel would be the one to stay at home and care for the baby and Daniel would carry on working, which secretly he had been mightily relieved about. He’d offered of course. Offered to give up his well-paid position as creative director at the Butler & Calder Advertising Agency and stay at home all day, every day, changing nappies and watching daytime TV, but only after Gabriel had said that if they were lucky enough to get a child then he would really like the privilege of staying home and being a full-time parent. Daniel had never been more relieved but his guilt was driving him into overkill on the role of ‘provider’ of the family. He found he was constantly looking for stuff to buy to make Gabriel’s and Silvie’s life at home as marvellous as possible.
‘Look,’ he said, pulling his latest purchase out of the thick cardboard bag. ‘It’s a faux leather baby-changing rucksack. You can wear it across your body or on your back. It has a detachable clutch, handy for nappy changes. It comes with an insulated bottle holder as well as a padded changing mat. Oh, and it has a sleeve for your laptop so that you can browse the net whilst you’re in a café having a flat white. And of course it’s wipe-clean and water-resistant. I checked. Isn’t it fabulous?’
‘But we already have a changing bag?’ said Gabriel.
‘I know, but I, well, I thought this might be better for our holiday. It matches our suitcases and everything.’
‘You mean you were worried that the cartoon cowboy plastic one didn’t match?’ asked Gabriel.
‘I know you love it,’ said Daniel, ‘but I can’t deny that it upsets me. Just a bit. To even look at it.’
Gabriel laughed. ‘Well, it’s a good bag,’ he nodded. ‘Thank you. I’m sure you will enjoy showing it off in Spain surrounded by many families who appear to be coping quite well with their plastic, primary-coloured nappy bags.’
‘Oh God,’ replied Daniel. ‘You’re right. It’ll be nappy bag central. It will be some kind of hell!’
‘It’s all right,’ replied Gabriel, still laughing. ‘You can go and sit at the bar with the other dads and drink beer whilst I share notes on what’s best for nappy rash with the mums.’
Daniel put his head in his hands. It had seemed like such a good idea to plan a holiday with people who had children. Friends to help out as they tried to navigate their way through becoming the parents of a little baby girl. And, after all, they were going to go with Katy who had two children so she must know what she was doing? She had to be a pair of safe hands.
Turned out he needn’t have worried. Gabriel was the most natural dad you could ever imagine. He’d grown up with a whole tribe of younger siblings and had the instant ability to incorporate children into everyday life, which seemed so much the Spanish way. To some extent Daniel felt like a bit of a spare part and, unusually for him, a complete novice. He liked to be the expert on most things and hated having to ask Gabriel constantly for help and advice on even the basics such as changing nappies and cleaning bottles. Daniel was actually pretty useless when it came to babies and so Gabriel tended to do everything as he d
id it better and quicker. This left Daniel feeling what he thought it must feel like to be in a heterosexual relationship. Something he’d never expected to experience and something he had taken great steps to avoid. He was the husband to a very domesticated and highly proficient parent who made him feel inadequate in the home and, if he was honest, slightly resentful. He tried not to show this reaction, of course, as he was very aware of how lucky he was that Gabriel was so willing to take care of the home front, but it left a slightly uncomfortable taste in his mouth that they had somehow slipped into such traditional male/female roles in their marriage.
‘I shall not be sitting by the bar with the other dads,’ declared Daniel. ‘Sit and listen to them talk football and what other people’s wives look like in bikinis? I don’t think so. I’d prefer to sit at the bar with you, with Silvie on my lap whilst we sip on a cocktail or two. That is how I wish to get through this holiday.’
Daniel took Silvie from Gabriel and balanced her over his shoulder. He began to bounce up and down and immediately a whimper came out of Silvie’s mouth. He felt himself tense and then the wail came. A full-on, wide-open-mouth, piercing wail.
‘There, there,’ he said, patting her back. ‘There, there, far, far, near, near, so, so.’
Silvie continued to wail. Daniel daren’t look at Gabriel. He couldn’t bear to see the sympathetic amazement that Daniel had an instant ability to wind up their baby.
Daniel bounced ever harder and inexplicably began singing ‘Rock Around the Clock’. He was baffled by a baby’s ability to lead you down such ridiculous paths but somehow it happened.
The sounds of the fifties were clearly doing nothing to calm poor Silvie and so eventually Daniel decided he’d switch to something more recent and began singing ‘Sex on Fire’ by Kings of Leon, much to his astonishment. This wouldn’t do by the pool in Spain – he was going to have to have some songs in his armoury with less innuendo for soothing Silvie.
Silvie was getting no better and eventually he felt Gabriel gently extract her from his shoulder and nestle her in the crook of his arm where, as if by magic, she instantly calmed down and gurgled contentedly.
Daniel stared down at the happy baby and sighed. He hadn’t expected fatherhood to feel this way. He hadn’t expected his skills to be judged so emphatically poorly. That hadn’t happened to him in a long while. He’d got himself to a stage in life where he was good at what he did and used to being endlessly praised and even given awards for how proficient he was. And here this little mite thought he couldn’t do shit. How did you deal with that?
Gabriel looked at him so sympathetically, which made it a whole lot worse. What must he think when Daniel couldn’t even hold their own daughter without her bursting into tears?
‘I’ll go and get the suitcases down,’ said Daniel, gathering himself. ‘Start packing. I need to decide exactly how many outfits one needs for a holiday of a package nature. Something I have never had to contemplate before.’
‘Oh, we already packed this morning,’ said Gabriel, wiping some drool from Silvie’s chin with a muslin cloth. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I laid some clothes out on the bed for you. I’ve picked some stuff out that I thought you might need. Oh, and we went to the chemist and bought all the essentials.’
‘What, like sun protection and insect repellent?’
‘No, I mean for Silvie. Nappy cream and wipes and swim nappies.’
‘Right,’ said Daniel. ‘Of course. I’ll go and finish off then.’
* * *
He gazed down at the clothes lying on the bed, waiting for his brain to make his selection of what to pack. Gabriel had of course got it spot on. Linen shorts and trousers, some very expensive designer T-shirts and multiple going-out shirts in varying shades of the rainbow. His holiday wardrobe had been excellently curated by his husband, leaving him only the job of lifting the carefully folded items off the bed and into the suitcase. Job done. He was all ready to go.
He was such a lucky man to have such a proficient husband. And it was going to be a great holiday, spending time with friends and their children. He must try and ignore the nagging concerns about the budget airline flight being packed with drunken hen and stag parties and the hotel being overrun with rugrats, swarming round all the time.
No, it wasn’t going to be like that at all. It was going to be absolutely blissful.
Chapter Four
Katy knew they would be the first to arrive at the airport but she hadn’t expected Daniel to be the last. And certainly not to start the holiday looking so flustered.
‘We overslept,’ he said, dashing up to them, car seat in one hand and pushchair in the other. ‘We forgot to set the alarm. The taxi driver leaning on the doorbell woke us up.’
‘Well, you’re here now,’ sighed Katy. ‘But we’ve already lost Braindead and Abby.’
Braindead had arrived and instantly said he needed food so had ambled off to join the café queue with Logan in tow whilst Abby said she needed something from the newsagent and had left Katy and Ben with Millie straining on Ben’s hand and Jack banging his feet against the pushchair. Next to them were two trolleys piled high with suitcases and car seats and all sorts of kid paraphernalia. Katy and Ben looked like they had just been made homeless and were out on the streets with all their worldly goods.
Gabriel walked up with baby Silvie strapped to his front, looking neat and tidy and calm, pushing his trolley carefully stacked with matching suitcases.
‘Bloody hell,’ muttered Ben. ‘Do you think we have enough kit? Do you think they’re even going to let us on the plane?’
‘I am panicking,’ admitted Katy. ‘It is a budget airline, after all. They’ll let us on the plane but they could charge us the cost of several more seats to get all this baggage on.’
‘I told you not to book a budget airline,’ said Daniel. ‘False economy every time.’
‘But it would have been double on any other airline. I thought we could spend what we save on a better hotel. After all, that is going to be where we spend most of our time. It’s only a two-and-a-half-hour flight.’
Daniel gave Katy a knowing look. Like she was a stupid, disillusioned fool. It was the first time she’d been on holiday with Daniel. They were the best of friends and she loved working with him but this could be a whole new ball game. They’d been on the odd business trip together, short hops over to mainland Europe, but that had typically been in business class, where there was a degree of comfort and pampering. She feared travelling with Daniel with four children in tow on an airline that treated its customers like cattle was going to be a challenging experience. Daniel was not one to stay quiet if he felt like service was poor.
Thankfully, Braindead reappeared just then, eating a cheese and onion pasty and carrying a large cardboard cup of tea.
‘Abby with you?’ asked Katy.
‘No, I thought she’d be here.’
‘She went to the newsagents.’
‘Shall I go and get her?’
‘No!’ said Katy and Ben in unison, knowing that could be the last they saw of both of them for some time.
‘I’ll go get her,’ said Katy. ‘You stay here.’ She felt stressed. She feared herding cats could become the theme of the entire trip.
‘It’s all right, she’s here,’ said Braindead, nodding down the corridor.
They all turned to be greeted by the sight of Abby tottering down the corridor in full make-up, short skirt, low-cut top and sky-high shoes. Perfect travel wear for going on a plane with small children.
‘Bloody hell, Abby, you going on a hen party or a family holiday?’ said Daniel.
Exactly what I was thinking, thought Katy, glancing down at her cut-off jeans, cotton top and trainers, knowing it was likely she would be spending most of the flight walking up and down the aisle with Jack tottering between her legs. Katy had never felt more over forty as she surveyed Abby’s twenty-five-year-old slim build exposed by skimpy clothing, despite the fact she was also a mother. Ka
ty privately congratulated herself on not packing a bikini. She couldn’t compete with Abby.
‘Right,’ announced Katy. ‘Are we all here now? Have you all got your passports and tickets?’
‘Yes, Mum,’ mumbled everyone whilst patting pockets or feeling inside bags. Katy already hated the fact that inevitably she was going to have to be the one in charge on this trip. She’d booked it and so she was going to be the one that they all looked to to keep them organised. It was exactly like being at work.
* * *
‘This is a very long queue,’ stated Daniel as they came to a stop at the end of the check-in line.
Katy thought she was already ready to kill someone.
‘Is there not a fast-track queue or something we can pay to join?’ he asked. ‘I mean, this could take at least half an hour. To check in? That’s just outrageous with small children. Do they not have a family queue? Surely if you’re travelling with small children they know that you need preferential treatment. You can’t make babies wait half an hour to check in for a flight, can you?’
‘This flight cost us less than getting a train from Leeds to London. There will be no preferential treatment for anyone, believe me,’ stated Katy. ‘Look, Daniel. Think of this as like a consumer research project. You will be experiencing how most normal people travel, those without expense accounts and high-paying careers. Queuing to check in is normal. Sitting in business class sipping champagne is not.’