Three In a Bed

by Carmen Reid

  Don moved out of her and tilted her chin up with his hand.

  ‘Maybe it doesn’t, Bella.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Maybe things move back into place slowly. It’s OK. I’m not going anywhere,’ he kissed her again. ‘Come on, I’m sure it’s going to be fine. Anyway, there are lots of other things we can do . . .’

  But for her the moment had well and truly gone. ‘Yeah, like the washing up!’ she answered.

  Bella phoned her new friend the next morning, as soon as she had the chance.

  ‘Red, hello, it’s Bella.’

  ‘Oh hello! How’s it going?’ Red sounded glad to hear her, although she was speaking above chaotic baby and toddler noise.

  ‘Fine, I was going to come round this afternoon, if you’re about?’

  ‘Yes, that would be lovely. How about 4, 4.30ish, so we can all have a nap first?’

  ‘Perfect,’ answered Bella. ‘Look there’s one thing I have to ask, it can’t wait.’

  ‘Yes?’ Red was intrigued.

  ‘Sex? Does everything stay this baggy for good?’

  There was a momentary pause and Bella suddenly wondered if Red didn’t know how to break the bad news.

  But then Red broke into cackles of laughter. ‘Blimey!’ she said. ‘I’m impressed. I’m planning to milk it for at least another month.’

  ‘Pelvic floor exercises,’ she added. ‘That’s probably what you need. No-one ever does them and things do bounce back eventually, but I suppose you could use them to hurry it up.’

  ‘So will it really be the same as it was? I want the truth,’ Bella asked, hating the fact that she sounded so anxious.

  ‘Do enough exercises and it will probably be better,’ Red laughed, ‘Anyway, I’ll see you later, which will be lovely.’

  ‘OK, thanks. Bye.’

  ‘Bye,’ she squeezed in and tried to hold for ten . . . where had those muscles gone?

  Chapter Thirty-three

  RED OPENED THE door looking just annoyingly good: glowing face, tumbling hair.

  ‘Hello!’ she said enthusiastically and came down the steps in her bare feet to help Bella up with the buggy. Bella noticed that her toenails were French manicured – her toenails!! How did she find the time to do this stuff?

  ‘God you always look so well, it’s very irritating!’ Bella said.

  ‘Thank you, I think! You look much better than the last time I saw you,’ Red replied.

  ‘Still room for improvement though.’ Bella looked down at her outfit, more of Don’s clothes, this time a faded blue T-shirt and grey drawstring shorts. Revolting.

  ‘Oh, he’s asleep,’ Red said looking down at Markie as they came in the door. ‘Shall we leave him in the hall?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ said Bella.

  ‘Come in,’ said Red and pointed Bella in the direction of the sitting room.

  She walked in and was surprised to find the quaintest little room this side of Little House on the Prairie. The walls were covered in faded flowery wallpaper, the sofa and armchairs were large and chintzy. Dark, antique furniture was crammed into every available space and there were toys and books and balls and cars everywhere.

  On the one available square inch of floor, a little black-haired boy was squatting down, drawing.

  ‘Jamie, this is Bella, say hello,’ said Red.

  ‘Hello,’ said Jamie without looking up.

  ‘He’s going through an intense drawing thing at the moment,’ said Red. ‘Actually maybe we should sit in the kitchen, it’s not so calamitously untidy.’

  She led Bella into a red kitchen, again crammed to bursting with table, chairs, a pine dresser, bunches of herbs, bookshelves, a drinks cabinet.

  Bella pulled up a chair at the table and estimated there were at least fifty little cars and trucks scattered across the surface.

  ‘It’s a bit different from your lovely Zen home!’ said Red, spotting Bella’s wry look at the table.

  ‘Oh no, it’s lovely,’ Bella said, feeling caught out.

  ‘Believe me,’ Red put on the kettle and hunted for clean mugs, ‘I would love to live in your house, but it’s just impossible, I’d drive Jamie and Sandy insane asking them to tidy up all the time . . . and then both Sandy’s parents and my mum died in the last couple of years and we couldn’t bear to give their furniture away so we’ve tried to fit most of it in . . . and we never got round to redecorating after we moved in . . .’ she tailed off.

  So Bella said: ‘Stop it! It looks really homely. I kind of rattle around in my place and worry if it’s too white. It will probably look really cold and clinical in the winter.’

  ‘Well homes seem to evolve around you, never quite the way you planned them,’ Red said, bumping mugs down on the table in front of them. ‘Anyway, how are you?’ She sat down and propped a hand under her chin, looking Bella squarely in the face. ‘And the truth please, not the “I’m a new mum and I’m coping” version!’

  ‘Not too bad,’ Bella answered. ‘The nanny starts next week and I’m going back for my first half-day on Friday, then work proper the Monday afterwards. Yikes.’

  ‘I’m glad you found a nanny, is she lovely?’

  ‘Ummm. To be honest I didn’t really like her at first but her references were good and I thought, well, we’ll do a month’s trial and see how we go.’

  ‘Sounds fine. Are you looking forward to going back?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Bella sighed, she felt complicated about this. ‘I think I’ll be OK once I’m there. I’m just so worried about Markie. I worry about how he’ll adjust and that he’s going to miss me the whole time.’

  ‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ said Red. ‘You’ll only know once you’re back. Try not to fret about it too much.’

  ‘Right now, I really envy you, Red,’ Bella said. ‘But don’t you miss work just a tiny bit?’

  ‘Well, I do work part time to remind myself how boring accountancy is, but you know what I miss?’ she said. ‘I miss the whole getting dressed up, going to the office, meetings, colleagues, team effort sort of thing. And I miss the way I could forget about everything else in my life and just work, you never get that feeling when you work part time, especially from home. But as soon as you’re a mum, everything becomes a compromise.’

  She put the teapot down in front of them and loaded two spoons of sugar into her cup.

  ‘But, you know,’ she went on, ‘I really wanted to be with my son and now the baby, more than I wanted to be at work, so it made sense to leave. But the flip side is, at the moment I don’t have nearly as much money or the “Gosh how impressive” status that went with the job.’

  She sipped her tea adding, ‘No-one in the world considers motherhood a good job or an important one. How can it be highly rated when most women like us hire someone else to do it for a fraction of our salaries?’

  Bella was silent.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Red. ‘I’m being very tactless, you’ve got me banging on about my favourite topic.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m interested,’ said Bella.

  ‘Well, as I said it’s a compromise. I like being at home, teaching Jamie how to draw, reading to him, building sand castles, all those small things that are so important to him, and I’ll be able to breastfeed Ellie for ages. But it’s a sacrifice to stay at home – financially, careerwise, statuswise. I’ve just learned to live with that – for the moment,’ she added with some emphasis. ‘Maybe I’ll feel different in a few years’ time and want to go back. I just keep telling myself that life is long and childhoods are pretty short really.’

  ‘Right,’ Red smacked her palm onto the tabletop. ‘Here endeth the lesson for today.’

  They both smiled.

  ‘I just don’t know how I’m going to have the energy to do it all,’ Bella said. ‘I’m functioning reasonably at the moment because I sleep for two to three hours in the afternoon. But in a week’s time, that’s going to be over.’

  ‘I don’t know, Bella. Maybe you’ll have to ge
t the nanny to stay over, so she can do some of the night feeds,’ said Red.

  ‘She’s made it pretty clear she doesn’t want to do that.’

  ‘Look, try not to worry about it. You’ll have to figure out what’s going to work for you when you get back,’ Red soothed. ‘If I have one tip, it’s just try not to be too extreme.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Bella asked.

  ‘I started out a workaholic career mum, put Jamie in the kind of nursery where they teach French and maths from three months and we got through the nights with Calpol abuse. But it made me utterly wretched, so what happened? I went to the other extreme . . . quit work, became the mad organic puree-ing, breastfeeding till he was two, co-sleeping supermum. And surprise, surprise, I didn’t feel any better.’

  ‘I’m trying to find a balance this time round. But everyone is different,’ she added quickly. ‘All kinds of arrangements work.’

  ‘Hmm . . .’ said Bella, feeling slightly panic stricken. Did she have any idea what she was getting herself into here?

  Jamie came into the kitchen.

  ‘Hello sweetpea,’ said Red, and her little son scrambled onto her lap.

  ‘Like some juicy please,’ piped the little voice.

  ‘Of course.’ Red got up and, holding Jamie under one arm, with impressive biceps, Bella noticed, she deftly rinsed out a beaker and filled it up with apple juice from the fridge diluted with water.

  Jamie sat on her lap and gulped it down.

  ‘You’ve got to come upstairs and meet Sandy,’ she said when Jamie had finished.

  ‘Oh, he’s here is he?’ Bella was certainly interested in meeting Red’s other half.

  ‘Yeah, he’s always here, slaving away in the office.’

  Red led her up the tiny, narrow staircase to the top floor and pushed open one of the two doors.

  ‘I’ve brought Bella up to say hello,’ said Red and a head turned round from the large computer screen which dominated the small floral room.

  ‘Hello,’ said Sandy with a wide smile. Well, well, thought Bella taking in this surprisingly young and utterly gorgeous man with dishevelled jet black hair and dark eyes, dressed in chinos and a floppy blue sweatshirt.

  ‘Hello there,’ she answered, deeply regretting her outfit, particularly the shorts.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m so busy, otherwise I’d come down and be sociable,’ he said and grinned again.

  ‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Red told him after a few pleasantries had been exchanged.

  ‘I’ll meet you properly some other time, I hope,’ said Sandy as they backed out of the room.

  ‘Wow,’ Bella grinned at Red on the way back down the stairs. ‘He’s a real dish.’

  Red giggled. ‘I know and five years younger than me. I still can’t believe my luck.’

  ‘So don’t tell me – he’s 25?’

  ‘No,’ Red looked incredulous. ‘29.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Bella. ‘You are looking good for your age.’

  ‘How old are you anyway?’ Red asked, smiling at the compliment.

  ‘Twenty-nine as well and I know, I look ancient.’

  Red laughed, then a baby started crying. For a moment they listened, then Bella knew it wasn’t hers. Weird, she thought, how you could tell the difference.

  They went back into the kitchen where Red fed Ellie and Bella topped up their teas.

  On Sunday, Bella, Don and Markie were out together for a supposedly nice, relaxing lunch. But it was not nice or relaxing. Markie had been crying and fussing ever since they sat down.

  Bella had fumbled with her shirt and bra and given Markie his first ever public breastfeed – feeling strangely embarrassed considering she was someone who hadn’t shrunk from sex in public places – but it didn’t settle Markie. As they waited for their order to arrive, he began to howl.

  Bella could see irritated customers twitch their Sunday papers and scowl and the worst thing was she knew she’d done exactly the same, in this very café when she used to come here on Sundays with Don from their little flat round the corner.

  She felt upset and angry. She offered Markie a drink of water, another feed, but he turned his head away and didn’t want anything, just grizzled and cried.

  Don sighed, which upset her even more.

  ‘I’ll take him out for a bit, maybe the change of air will help,’ she said, getting up.

  ‘I’ll get them to wait with your food till you come back,’ he answered.

  ‘How big of you,’ Bella snapped.

  After pacing up and down the street for twenty minutes with Markie crying against her shoulder, she decided to go back in and eat something.

  ‘What do you think it is?’ Don asked as she came back in.

  ‘I don’t know, Don,’ she said, feeling totally stressed. ‘Maybe he’s just a bit tense, like me.’

  ‘Look, you sit down and I’ll take him out in the buggy, maybe he’ll fall asleep. We can’t let him howl the place down.’

  Bella felt like a traitor handing over her wailing son. Don tucked him into the buggy and wheeled him out. She felt as if every head in the restaurant was turned on her.

  Now, when she glanced around, she saw there were lots of babies here but they were all sitting contentedly in their prams and car seats, gurgling and watching their parents happily. What was the matter with her son? She felt a tear sliding down her cheek. He always needed all her attention, all the time.

  She never seemed to be able to just put him down and let him watch happily. Christ, she was obviously the most tense, uptight, crap mother in the world, creating the most tense, uptight and miserable baby in the world. More tears splashed down onto her scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. She wiped them away and tried to concentrate on eating something.

  She’d been finished for ages when she finally saw Don coming back into the restaurant. He was pushing the buggy and smiling at her, surely a sign that Markie was asleep.

  He wheeled over and sat down wearily in the chair. Bella immediately looked into the buggy to check her sleeping baby.

  ‘He cried for ages, poor little guy, but then he did finally drop off,’ said Don. ‘Thank God, I can now have a few moments of peace, with my wife.’

  He looked at her and put his hand over hers: ‘Hello,’ he said smiling into her face. ‘Remember me? I’m the person you used to spend lots of time with until that little munchkin came along.’

  She laughed. ‘Don’t call him a munchkin!’

  ‘He is, though, all he does is go munch, munch, munch on your breasts – which I never get to play with any more – or waaaaaaaah a lot.

  ‘Poor Bella. Are you OK?’ he added.

  ‘I’m tired,’ she answered, rubbing her hands over her face. ‘I feel like I’m going to be tired for ever now, I’ll never ever have enough sleep ever again and I’m worried about what going back to work will be like.’

  ‘It will be fine, Bella,’ Don soothed. ‘You’re you at work, that’s your natural habitat. It’s the baby part, being at home, breastfeeding and being bawled at all day that’s strange to you. That’s why you feel so weird.’ He smiled at her.

  ‘One week back at the job, axing staff, blood-letting, and you’ll be your old self again. I’m expecting you to drop a stone and have worn me out by the end of the month.’

  ‘Right,’ she said grimly. ‘Remind me to get you that book . . . What Not to Say to New Mothers Unless You Want to Get Kneed in the Balls Very Very Hard.’ She took her hand out of his.

  ‘Bella! I’m joking, but yeah, there’s some truth in it. I’m sorry, I want things back to normal a bit. I want you back to normal. You’re just so wrapped up in this, there’s no room for anything else. Christ, you haven’t even bought any clothes that fit you. I can’t believe you’re wearing my trousers and shirt again.’

  ‘Oh sod off,’ she said and looked away. Tears were welling up in her eyes again. God! She hated herself for all this self-pity, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.

  �
�I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I feel left out. There’s just not much I can do for Markie. Walk him about in the pram, that’s about it. He’s not really at a terribly interesting age, I can’t play football with him yet.’

  Don thought he was being light-hearted, but Bella took every word as a slap in the face.

  ‘Jesus, Don . . .’ she looked at him with eyes brimful of tears. ‘You could speak to him and sing to him or carry him around, or hold him in front of flowers in the garden or shake a rattle over his head . . . or persuade him to drink out of a bottle or . . . there’s just a hundred things you could do. But let’s face it, you’re not interested . . .’ Her tears were slipping down and she spat out the last words with droplets of saliva. ‘You didn’t want him in the first place, that’s what you really want to say, isn’t it?’

  ‘Just calm down,’ he said urgently. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry . . .’ he held her arm. ‘I’m really glad he’s here. I’m really glad you got me to do this. I think he’s wonderful.’

  She felt a little better for hearing him say this so passionately.

  But then Don added: ‘I’m just a bit overwhelmed at how much things have changed. I feel I haven’t got any time to myself at home, you certainly don’t have any time and there’s just nothing left for us.’

  ‘Well too bad, Don,’ she stormed. ‘We’re adults. I expect you to be able to look after yourself now. Markie is six weeks old, he can’t.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  Then Bella said simply: ‘I’d like to go home now please.’

  Don motioned to the waiter and asked for the bill.

  They drove home in silence. Unusually, Markie hadn’t woken for the transition from buggy to car seat and was sleeping in the back. Bella looked out of the window and watched the chic streets of glamorous north London gradually grow shabby as they headed to their part of town, further north-east.

  Christ, why had they moved to such a big house so far away from anything interesting? Why hadn’t they just gone for a lovely two-bedroomed flat nearer civilization? They’d borrowed an absolute fortune for a Georgian terraced house in urban wasteland. What had she been thinking?