by Sue Watson
Matt and I are still sitting in the living room watching TV; it’s after midnight but Amber had told Matt she’d be home by ten.
‘I can’t do this much longer, Matt,’ I murmur, as I hear her staggering into the kitchen and banging crockery around. This isn’t the first time she’s gone out at short notice, coming back late and drunk. I’m beginning to feel like Matt and I are the grown-ups living with a wayward teenager.
Eventually she staggers into the living room and, giggling loudly, plonks herself between me and Matt.
‘Room for a little one?’ she says, and Matt forces a smile, but I’m beyond that. She’s really irritating me and I move onto the other sofa.
‘What’s up with you?’ she slurs at me, then turns to Matt. ‘What’s up with her?’
He shrugs. He doesn’t want any trouble, and Amber loves a bit of trouble. I wish he’d say something, tell her we’re fed up and this isn’t fair – but then again I spent the first few months of her stay asking him not to say anything to upset her, so I can’t blame him for keeping schtum.
‘Have a nice night?’ I ask, trying not to sound like an embittered, ageing mother speaking to her carefree young daughter. And not pulling it off.
‘Yeah, great… Kirsty’s a fucking hoot, isn’t she?’
I feel like a hot knife has just sliced into my flesh. ‘Kirsty? Do you mean my Kirsty?’
She laughs. ‘Ooh, I didn’t realise she was yours – I just know her as Kirsty.’
‘Did you bump into her while you were out?’ I ask hopefully.
‘No – a few of us went out. Some of the book club girls, you know?’
I feel the blood drain from my face. I haven’t spoken much to Kirsty since the coffee shop, but I thought she might have let me know. ‘I would have come too. You never said. No one told me.’
‘Someone had to look after Mia,’ she slurs again, looking at me unsteadily.
‘Matt would have looked after her… I haven’t seen them for ages…’ I’m close to tears. I abandoned these friends for her and now she’s going out with them and leaving me at home to look after her baby. She knew Matt was around, she knew I was free to go out, yet still she didn’t invite me or even tell me.
‘What is your problem, Lucy? You said you were happy to look after Mia.’
‘I was… I am, but I didn’t know what you were doing, that you were going out with my friends.’ I just throw words into the air, unable to pin them down and process what happened tonight in my absence.
‘For fuck’s sake, they are not exclusively your friends, Lucy,’ she says loudly.
Despite her intoxicated state I can see her eyes are wild and she wants to hurt me. I don’t know where all this rage has come from, but it’s pointing straight at me. Amber’s hate is tangible. I can touch it, feel it wrapping itself around me tightly like a snake and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
‘You say it every day: “I’ll look after Mia, I love babysitting her, don’t let anyone else have her, only me”.’ She says this in a whiny voice, apparently mine. ‘But only on your terms, eh, Lucy? You’ll only look after Mia if I’m doing something you approve of.’ This last sentence is hurled at me, a nasty wrecking ball twirling towards my head. I can’t bear it, I’m now in tears as Matt looks helplessly on. I feel like I’m drowning as I gulp for air. I don’t know what’s happened, but suddenly she’s changed the rules. She’s completely floored me and I don’t know how to deal with it. All I know is that this can’t go on. Amber’s gone too far this time and I want her gone, but then there’s Mia who’s a different story altogether.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucy
I’m still not sure what happened, why Amber was out with the book club girls and I was excluded. As Kirsty and I aren’t really speaking, I’m not sure if I’ll ever find out, but it’s made me so cross on many levels. My own exclusion was bad enough, but Amber is the one who didn’t like the book club and always suggested other things for us to do instead. I haven’t seen the girls from the book club for ages, and wonder if perhaps they feel I abandoned them.
At the moment though, I don’t have the time or headspace to work out what’s going on. I was up all night with Mia last night; she has a temperature and woke up on the hour every hour. Amber might be able to lie there with her earplugs and eye mask and sleep through it, but I can’t. How can she ignore the cries of her baby? Even though I’ve got much more on my plate than Amber with working all day, then coming home and doing the housework, caring for Mia, making supper for the three of us and squeezing everything else in between, there is no way I could just ignore Mia’s cries.
After last night I’m worried about Mia and feel it would be wise to take her to the doctor. It’s probably nothing, but you can never be too sure with young babies. So, after supper, I go upstairs to find Amber, who is sitting at the dressing table in her bedroom in just her bra and pants with the door wide open. We have to pass her door to go to our room and if Matt was up here, he couldn’t miss her sitting there and he’d be so embarrassed. I wish she’d cover up more around the house; she’s always wandering around with her robe half-open.
‘Amber, you’re outrageous. Your robe is wide open, I can see everything,’ I said half-jokingly the other evening.
‘Do you have any idea of the damage you’ve just caused by saying that?’ she said, hand on hip, immediately on the attack. ‘My mother made me ashamed of my body, and it’s taken me years to accept myself, so please don’t send me down that road again, Lucy.’
Of course I felt terrible, and next time she wandered around the kitchen like a bloody porn star between takes, I just ignored it. But I could see Matt’s discomfort.
Anyway, I go into her room now, closing the door behind me as I do so, in case Matt comes home.
‘I’m a bit worried about Mia,’ I start. I don’t want to scare her but I have to be clear this isn’t just me being ‘over the top’, as she often accuses me of being.
‘Oh? Is she okay?’ She continues to apply eyeliner.
‘Well, she’s got a temperature and… It’s just that a baby’s temperature can indicate something else, an infection perhaps,’ I offer, feeling like the bloody nanny talking to her employer.
‘Ah, that explains why she was such a grump today,’ she says, unperturbed, picking up her lipstick and slowly colouring in her lips.
‘What do you think we should do?’ I ask, trying desperately to engage her in this.
She purses her newly red lips in the mirror, and only when she’s finished does she answer. ‘I think,’ she announces, standing up and walking across the room so I can see every inch of her perfect figure. ‘I think we should see what she’s like tomorrow.’
I’m surprised, though I don’t know why. ‘Oh. I was thinking we should really get her seen tonight, at the out-of-hours clinic…’
‘Oh, Lucy, what are you like, you little worrier?’ She throws me a patronising, faintly chastising look laced with a smile, and pulls a jersey dress over her head. ‘Leave it until tomorrow. I’ll see how she is and take her myself if absolutely necessary,’ she says, now gazing at herself in the mirror. ‘Ooh, be a love and pass me that necklace.’ She wags her hand in the direction of the dressing table.
Somewhat taken aback, I go over and get the necklace, and hand it to her. She smiles too sweetly and puts it round her neck. I feel like her lady-in-waiting.
‘Do you think this works?’
‘Yes… I suppose so… So you’re going out?’
‘Yes, remember, it’s the studio party tonight? Keith Hardy the newsreader’s leaving. I did mention it.’
‘Oh, I don’t remember… So you need me to babysit Mia? Again,’ I add, a little passive-aggressively I’ll admit – she definitely hadn’t mentioned it. I would have remembered.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No, but with Mia not being well, I just thought…’
‘Oh, she’ll be fine, you worry too much. Mia will love being with
you tonight. She adores her Auntie Lucy – almost as much as I do!’ She gives me a peck on the cheek, and whereas once I would have been flattered by the show of affection, I just feel patronised.
‘She’s three months old, she doesn’t even know who I am,’ I snap.
‘Three whole months.’ Amber’s now back at the dressing table dabbing perfume on her pulse points and pouting into the mirror. ‘Doesn’t time fly?’ She glances over at me and smiles, but her eyes are hard and cold. ‘Anyway.’ She picks up her handbag from the bed, ‘Keep an eye on Mia’s temperature if you’re worried, and call me if it gets very high and Matt can come early for me.’
She’s become so presumptuous, like we’re both here to serve her.
‘Why don’t you drive yourself?’ I ask.
‘Because, Lucy, I don’t drink and drive!’
‘You could not drink and then drive, just in case you’re needed here,’ I suggest, trying not to sound judgemental or bossy – two things she often says I am.
‘And you could stop trying to run my life, Mrs Metcalf.’ She says this in a ‘jokey’ way, but I know she means it, and if running her life means caring about her child, then yes I do. But there’s no point in arguing about it.
Amber eventually leaves as Matt returns from the gym.
‘I’m worried about Mia,’ I tell him. ‘It may be nothing, but she’s got a temperature and…’ She’s in my arms, tired but unable to settle, her little nose running, and she has what I suspect is the beginning of a cough.
He immediately reacts and takes her from me, looking close into her face, like he might be able to tell what is wrong with her. He rocks her gently as he walks around the kitchen. ‘What does Amber think?’ He looks up at me.
‘That we should leave it until tomorrow. But Amber doesn’t have a clue… She was more bothered about what to wear tonight…’ I stop, aware that recently I always seem to be making digs at her.
He sits down with Mia and I walk over to them, both of us looking into her face now. I put the back of my hand on her forehead. She is still hot. My heart is thudding.
‘Let’s check for any signs of a rash,’ I say, gently lifting her from Matt’s knee, causing her to grizzle slightly. I know I’m not her mum – God knows I’m reminded enough by Amber – but I just have this instinct she needs more than Calpol. I sit down and lift her little pyjama top, touching her tummy, then check her legs and arms, but, thank God, there’s no rash. Yet.
‘What if it’s something serious? What if it’s more than a cold, Matt?’
He looks as worried as me. ‘How do we know?’
‘We don’t know, that’s the point. She has to be seen by someone who does.’
I rub her back. She feels like a rag doll, and I panic, finding it hard to breathe. I just keep shaking my head. This tiny little thing is relying on me – on us. She has no one else to protect her, to look out for her, not even her mother, and I have to do something.
‘Come on, let’s take her to A & E,’ I say, my mind made up. I grab her fleece and my jacket and Matt follows me down the hall.
‘Can we justify taking her to A & E? I mean, are you overreacting? What if she’s just got a cold?’ Now he’s starting to sound like Amber, and I’m not in the mood.
‘And what if she hasn’t?’ I snap. ‘Matt! She’s a baby with a temperature who’s starting to feel slightly floppy. I’m not leaving this to chance – and I don’t care if the hospital thinks I’m overreacting, or her mother’s too busy to care. I’m taking her NOW! Are you coming with me?’
‘Of course… Of course. I’ll drive,’ he says, grabbing the keys as we both run out of the front door, my heart thudding in my chest, the baby asleep now in my arms.
On the way, I call Amber several times, but she isn’t picking up; probably too busy getting drunk to worry about her daughter. So I text and leave voice messages to tell her we are taking Mia to the hospital.
When we arrive, Matt drops me off at reception while he finds a parking space and I run in, clutching Mia to my chest. The receptionist looks up as I approach the desk; I am, by now, completely panicked.
‘Can I have your name?’ she says, like I’m applying for a bank loan.
‘No… No… It isn’t me. It’s the baby, the baby… She’s floppy, she’s sleeping… high temperature… She’s very warm,’ I garble.
‘I need your name…’
‘Lucy,’ I yell. ‘My name’s Lucy… Get a bloody doctor NOW!’
Even in the midst of all this, the receptionist shows no reaction, just shrugs her shoulders and picks up the phone to tell someone there is a baby with a high temperature in reception.
I stand, trying to breathe, and look around me for the first time. The waiting room is full and everyone is watching me, but I don’t care, I just want Mia to be okay. Then Matt arrives having parked the car. His arms are open, palms upturned as if to say ‘what now?’ But I ignore this, and turn back to the receptionist who’s staring at me with barely concealed hatred. ‘Now, your name,’ she says, defiant.
‘I’m Lucy… Lucy…’
‘You’re the baby’s mother?’ she asks, and I look at Matt and back to her.
I know if I tell the truth they may not be able to treat Mia. They might need Amber’s permission, and God knows if and when we’ll be able to track her down to get that.
‘Yes… I’m her… mother,’ I say, not looking at Matt.
Eventually a nurse arrives who, when she sees Mia in my arms, dashes towards us, which scares me. She carefully takes Mia from my arms and tells me firmly and kindly to follow her to a small room. I set off with Matt by my side, running with me behind the nurse, and I grab his hand for support, both emotional and physical.
‘I’m just going to do a quick check on your baby before the doctor gets here,’ the nurse says as she ushers us into the little triage room.
She puts a stethoscope on Mia’s tiny chest that, to my horror, seems to be moving up and down way too fast. I stop breathing myself, so it is quiet and the nurse can hear.
Mia wakes up as the nurse checks her, which is a relief; she’d been sleeping too soundly and that had worried me. But by the time the doctor arrives, she is screaming the place down.
‘Your baby’s going to be okay,’ the doctor says reassuringly when he’s finished examining her. ‘But she has an ear infection which is giving her some trouble.’
‘Oh no… I had no idea.’
‘Well, Baby can’t tell us what’s wrong with her so we have to be aware of things like temperature, appetite…’
‘She’s been fine apart from the temperature… I’ve been checking it.’
‘Good, but if this happens again, please don’t leave it quite so long. Your baby’s probably been in a lot of pain… I’m going to prescribe some ear drops, antibiotic. I’d like you to follow this up in three days with a visit to your GP.’
‘Okay… I will,’ I say, feeling like a bad mother – I want to explain it’s not my fault, but no point getting into that now.
He looks at his screen. ‘Name?’
‘Mia… her name’s Mia Young.’
‘Before I can give you a prescription we need you to fill in this form, Mrs Young… just to confirm that you’re Mia’s parent, legal guardian, et cetera.’
He hands me the form and I shoot a look at Matt, who looks back helplessly. We have to get the treatment for Mia now, so I sign the paper as Amber Young.
Matt and I then rush to the hospital pharmacy for the precious ear drops. And only when we are home and we’ve given her the drops and she is finally sleeping peacefully do I allow myself to breathe again.
Later that evening, Matt goes to collect Amber from her party; apparently she’d texted him earlier to ask him, and he hadn’t even mentioned it to me.
‘I bet the selfish cow didn’t even ask after Mia, did she?’ I hiss into the darkness, when Matt returns home after picking Amber up.
‘Yeah, to be fair, she asked about Mia. She felt bad sh
e’d missed the calls. Her phone died. She didn’t even realise what had happened. But she popped her head round the nursery door when she came in just then too and gave her a kiss.’
‘Oh, big deal. She isn’t actually going to lose her beauty sleep and have Mia in with her though?’ Given Mia’s infection and raised temperature she’d have been in my bedroom with me all night if she was mine.
‘She didn’t want to wake her.’
‘I bet she didn’t.’
‘Don’t get all worked up, love, everything’s fine. Let’s just get some sleep.’
And as Matt begins to snore, I lie in our bed feeling alone with no one to talk to. Again.
I lie in thick, dark silence hearing no sound from the rest of the house. Amber must have passed out almost as soon as she hit the pillow, clearly not too worried about her daughter being ill. So while the rest of the house sleeps, I get up, wander into the nursery and sit by Mia’s cot in the darkness, the moon streaking through the curtains, giving me just enough light to watch her chest rise and fall.
***
‘So many men, so little time’ written on a fridge magnet she brought back from a trip to Blackpool with the girls. Kiss-me-quick hats and sugary rock shaped like men’s penises… She disgusted me. A grown woman, a mother, behaving like that. ‘I wish I had a different mother,’ I said. ‘And I wish you’d never been born,’ she slurred. And later that night, as she lay in a drunken heap, I looked at her and wished she was dead. My own mother.
Chapter Twenty
Lucy
The following night, things go downhill.
Amber had the cheek to complain because I’d ‘forged’ her signature to get Mia’s prescription. ‘How could you, Lucy? Pretending to be Mia’s mum, really? Why would you do that?’ she said when I told her.
I’d explained the situation, she knew exactly why I’d signed her name, but I couldn’t help feeling that somehow this was all about creating trouble – that had it been anyone else, she’d have been thanking them for looking after her child. I made sure I told her in the kitchen in front of Matt, and was counting on him to back me up, but he just stood there, stirring pasta sauce like he was in a trance.