“There, it’s like riding a bike, you don’t forget.”
Helen looked over at Sharni gratefully.
“Thank you.”
“What for?” Sharni gave her a bewildered look.
“I don’t know.” Helen shrugged, trying to find the words. “For reminding me who I was.”
“You’re still you, you daft moo. It’s bound to take some time to get used to being Helen-Mummy. But you’ll always be Helen. You wait, when you come to Pops, you’ll remember Helen-Photographer. It’ll be grand.”
Helen knew it was a mistake going to Pops before she left the flat. The children had been grisly all morning, fussing over their feeds and setting each other off crying. Helen was a jumble of grumpiness and nerves before she even had them both in the pram. Determined to try and get some semblance of normality back in her life, she gritted her teeth and headed to the café.
It was the first time she had tried to push the pram any distance. Although she was used to how cumbersome it was, she was still mortified at the irritated glances thrown in her direction as people had to vacate the footpath to get round it.
The noise was incredible. Helen could barely hear the twins crying over the sound of the traffic. She could only tell they were still wailing by the sight of their little red faces, peeking out from the blankets swaddled round them. Every time their cries began to quieten a bus seemed to pick that moment to whoosh past. The first time it happened Helen jumped so high she nearly ended up in front of it.
Have the buses always passed so close to the pavement? I don’t remember that. She steered the pram as far from the curb as she could, but there was no way to shield the twins from the noise, or the fumes. She could feel the exhaust fumes burning her nose and throat, and her skin soon felt gritty with it. It seems crazy that I worried about a bit of formula milk when a five minute walk along the main road must be filling their lungs with who knows how many toxins.
The city no longer felt benign; the London she knew and loved seemed to have vanished. Every stranger that jostled her was someone who was going to snatch the babies, or cause her to steer the pram under a bus. The police sirens seemed louder, the planes lower. The smell of takeaway and BO emanating from the man walking in front of her nearly overwhelmed her newly acute sense of smell. If he doesn’t turn off soon I might vomit.
As she waited for the pedestrian lights to turn green before crossing the road, something she would never have done before, Helen glanced surreptitiously at the other mothers pushing their children along the pavement around her. They seemed so confident; immaculate and manicured, wheeling buggies one-handed while texting or supping a Starbucks. How do they manage to appear so together and serene when I just feel harried and hopeless?
By the time she got to the café she was ready for the ground to open and swallow her up. The only upside was that James and Jasmine had finally cried themselves to sleep. Her friends were sitting at the table in the window, and they waved frantically as they saw her. Swallowing imminent tears, Helen lifted her chin and tried to get the pram in through the door. No matter how she squared the wheels it just wouldn’t go through. Bowing her head, she bit her lip, determined not to break down in such a public place.
“Here, let me help.” Ben appeared in the doorway, glaring at the person behind Helen that was huffing in frustration at the delay.
“The baskets come off. I can collapse the frame if we take them off.” Helen’s voice was tiny.
“You’ll have to show me how.” Ben laughed, looking at the pram in confusion. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Helen swiftly removed the two basinets and kicked shut the frame, handing it to Ben who tucked it behind their table, while Sharni and Dawn came forward to take a basinet each. Helen was sat at the table amidst friends inside a minute. She smiled a watery smile at them all.
“Thanks guys. I’m still getting the hang of it all.”
“You’re doing amazing.”
“You look fabulous.”
“They’re gorgeous.”
“Do you want coffee?”
Helen smiled gratefully at the chorus from her friends. Much more so than with her baby group she felt she was among people who were on her side.
The still sleeping babies were removed from their baskets and passed round, although Stuart and Ben declined a cuddle, leaving Sharni to face her fears and nestle James on her lap. Dawn cooed over Jasmine and seemed to forget about the rest of the group.
Soon they were lost in talk of photography, babies, gossip about Derek and other catching up of news. Helen realised she hadn’t seen the group more than twice since meeting Marcio, and felt bad that she had neglected them. She was grateful they didn’t seem to mind.
Looking up at the group, she caught a glance that passed between Ben and Sharni. It occurred to her that Sharni hadn’t mentioned Derek since the debacle of the Fashion Photography course. Now she thought she might know the reason. It made her smile.
“Er, Helen.” Stuart, who had finally agreed to hold one of the twins, was wrinkling his nose and shifting in his seat.
“I think your baby has, um, filled her nappy.”
Dawn, Ben and Sharni laughed loudly at Stuart’s face, where his normal aloof expression had been replaced with one of horror.
“Pass her here.” Helen reached out and took Jasmine. She felt damp, and Helen hoped she hadn’t leaked poo on Stuart’s designer jeans.
Praying that James would behave in her absence she took Jasmine to the ladies toilets. There was no changing table; why would there be, generally Pops attracted workers from the nearby offices, not mums with babies.
Squeezing into a cubicle, Helen tried to lay the changing mat on the floor before putting a now whimpering Jasmine on top. Undoing the poppers she saw that the contents of the nappy had leaked everywhere, down Jasmine’s legs and up to her neck.
Fighting back tears, Helen stripped the clothes off and cleaned Jasmine as best she could in the cramped space.
Thank god I gave up on cotton wool and water and switched to wet wipes. The baby started to wriggle as Helen mopped up the mess.
“Jasmine lie still! You’ll cover us both in poo.”
Helen hoped there was no one else in the ladies, as she cursed the wriggling child in language a mummy probably shouldn’t use. Eventually she had mopped all the slippery korma-coloured poo off her daughter, although not without getting some on her own jeans. Luckily wet-wipes appeared to be able to handle that too, more or less.
Rummaging through the cavernous changing bag, she located clean clothes and then spent ten minutes wrestling them onto the wriggling baby. She remembered something her mum had said once and had to agree: It was indeed like trying to put tights on an octopus. At last Jazz was dressed and the mess packed away into several nappy sacks.
Exhausted but triumphant, Helen headed back to her friends. As she passed a table of attractive business men, sucking in her tummy out of habit, Helen saw one of them look on the floor behind her.
“You’ve dropped something,” he observed with a slight frown.
Looking back, Helen saw one of her breast pads on the floor. Blood rushed to her face in mortification as she rushed back and swooped down to retrieve it as fast as possible. As she did so, her bag slid off her shoulder and knocked a lady’s arm, spilling coffee all over her and the table.
“My god, I’m so sorry!” Helen’s elation evaporated as she fought back tears.
“Don’t worry my dear, I saw you come in with the twins. It’s tough, taking them out and about, I remember.”
“Thank you for being so nice. Let me buy you another coffee.”
“No need.” The lady smiled encouragingly at Helen and she found it only intensified her desire to sob.
Grateful there had been someone to hold James for the twenty minutes it had taken to change Jasmine, Helen wondered what on earth she would have done if she had been out by herself.
“That’s it; I’m not leaving the house
again until they start school!”
Dawn laughed in a comradely fashion. “I remember thinking the same, and I only had one. Don’t worry, it gets easier. I promise.”
Helen couldn’t see how it possibly could, but she didn’t want to bring down the jovial mood round the table, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
James began to cry, and Helen felt a damp sensation spread across her chest. She didn’t need to look down to realise she’d forgotten to replace the breast-pad. As the blood rushed to her face again, she shoved Jasmine at Dawn, grabbed a spare t-shirt from her bag and hurried back to the Ladies.
Once locked in a cubicle, she sat on top of the toilet seat and gave in to the tears that had been threatening to come all morning.
“I can’t do this.”
Once the tears had started, Helen thought they might never stop. She sunk her head onto her hands and sobbed until her ribs ached and she could taste salt and mascara in her mouth. The world closed in around her like an approaching storm, full of heavy thunderclouds and stinging rain. All conscious thought became lost as she wept and wept.
“Helen?”
The tapping on the door brought her back to the present.
“Helen, are you okay?”
Helen tried to speak, but no words came.
“Helen, darling. It’s okay, no-one noticed the little leak, and even if they did, these things happen. It’s fine. Come out my dear, come give Auntie Dawn a cuddle.”
Helen stretched forward and slid back the bolt on the door, incapable of doing much else.
As she carefully pushed open the door, narrowly missing Helen’s knees, Dawn let out a sigh of compassion.
“Oh darling. You poor thing. I can’t imagine how tough it is, having two little ones to look after. My Florence has bad days and Poppy is at preschool already. Is it getting you down? Are you getting much help?”
Helen nodded, although it wasn’t clear to Dawn whether she was agreeing to the first or second statement.
“Let’s get your top changed, and you can come back out and finish your cake. You’ll feel better after some food. Feeding really takes it out of you.”
Dawn helped Helen take her top off as she might for a small child, before holding out the dry one. Then, still with the calm air of a mother caring for a distraught toddler, she led Helen out by her hand and took her back to the table.
The group were puzzled but sympathetic by the obvious signs of Helen’s distress. Sharni dug around for a makeup compact, and offered it to Helen.
Embarrassed now at her loss of control, Helen tried to laugh it off.
“I should never have bothered with the mascara. Generally I don’t have time for makeup these days, but I wanted to make an effort.”
“Maybe invest in some waterproof mascara?” Sharni giggled.
Helen fought the urge to cry again at finding herself the butt of Sharni’s humour. Then she realised her friend was trying to lighten the mood.
“Perhaps I should just have my eyelashes tinted.” She smiled, to show she understood.
“I think you look amazing without makeup,” Ben piped up. Helen privately thought he was lying through his teeth, but it was sweet of him to say so.
When it was time to leave, Dawn helped Helen load the babies into their basinets.
“Do you want me to come home with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s not far and hopefully the walk will rock the babies to sleep so I can have a cuppa when I get in.”
“Is Marcio at home?”
“No, he’s working.” Helen couldn’t say where, as usual Marcio hadn’t said when he left that morning.
Dawn put her hand on Helen’s shoulder. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to add to your burden by talking about work at the moment.”
“That must be it.” Helen felt better at the thought.
The walk home calmed Helen’s nerves. Okay so it had been an unmitigated disaster, but she and the twins had survived their first outing into the real world. Maybe I can manage this parenting lark, she thought optimistically.
All her happiness evaporated as she turned into her road and saw a familiar figure hovering near her front door. Daniel. That’s all I need. Why didn’t he call first?
Fishing her phone out of her purse she saw the battery was flat. Damn. He’ll think I’m a careless parent, wandering around London without even a charged phone.
As she approached the front door, Daniel looked her up and down.
“My god, Helen, look at the state of you.”
Glancing down, Helen realised she had forgotten to replace the breast-pad when Dawn changed her t-shirt. Both breasts had leaked and she had two giant damp patches on her crumpled top. On the shoulder she saw a patch of posset from where she had burped James earlier. Now her attention was drawn to her own appearance rather than constant concern for the twins she could feel the damp curls of hair at her neck, the dried mascara on her cheeks. Please don’t let him notice the poo on my jeans, she prayed, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
“It’s been a tricky morning.”
She wanted to explain about the catalogue of disasters at the café but thought he would fail to see the funny side. He’d never had much of a sense of humour.
“You clearly need help.” Daniel’s voice was severe. “How do I know my children are being looked after properly when their mother looks,” he paused, sniffing pointedly, “and smells like she’s been dumpster-diving outside a nightclub?”
Dumpster diving? Helen’s first thought was what trash TV has he been watching? At the same time the rest of her shrivelled under his censure.
The twins started whimpering, wanting their next feed. Helen stood immobile, unsure what to do. She needed to get the children into the apartment, but didn’t want Daniel to come in. She was emotionally and physically drained from her morning out and wished for nothing more than to curl up with the twins, feed them to sleep, then have a quiet cup of tea.
“Well, are you going to leave them crying?”
Daniel’s accusation cut through her dilemma. Opening the front door, she shot him a withering look.
“What are you doing here anyway? You said you would call first.”
“I did, but you didn’t answer. I was worried.”
Helen thought guiltily about her dead phone. She wasn’t about to admit that fact to him, so ignored the statement.
“You’d better come in, but only for a minute. The twins need a feed.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Daniel’s words brought back images of their time together, making her flush red with the memory. She tried to analyse her emotions, as she carefully steered the pram into the apartment. It had never been lovemaking, not like she had with Marcio, but she could remember how much Daniel had turned her on. The unwanted pictures in her mind made it difficult for her to expose even enough breast to latch James on, while putting in Jasmine’s dummy to pacify her for a while.
The latter action drew Daniel’s attention away from the former.
“Should they be using dummies? I don’t want to spend a fortune on orthodontics.”
Helen bristled. Putting her shoulders back as best she could without disturbing James, she looked Daniel directly in the eye. “They recommend dummies as a precaution against SIDS.”
Daniel seemed to realise that antagonising Helen wasn’t going to further his cause. “I’m sorry, I’m just concerned for their welfare. I’m sure you understand.”
As Helen watched, an almost imperceptible change came over Daniel’s face. It lost the severity that had given him the air of a disapproving boss and took on the look he had had last time he visited. It made Helen recall the words of his text.
Maybe he does still love me, despite the way he makes me feel like a bad mother. I know how touchy I am these days, always biting Marcio’s head off. And he has a point. I am a state.
Thinking about her dishevelled hair and vomit-encrusted clothes, she could agree they wer
e a far cry from the stylish lady who had overseen Daniel’s dinner parties.
“Let me make you a cup of tea.” Daniel stood and headed for the kitchen. The sudden movement made Jasmine cry. Daniel headed back in and picked up his daughter.
Helen realised it was the first time he had held one of the children. He had the clumsy hands of a first time dad, but there was tenderness in his face and the hold was gentle. For the first time Helen saw that Daniel could be a father to the twins. It made her head ache. Marcio was their dad. Daniel didn’t deserve them. It was simpler that way.
She looked down at James and back up at Jasmine who had settled down to sleep in Daniel’s arms. Daniel’s eyes met hers, their expression soft, full of awe. Their gazes still locked, Daniel came towards her and crouched next to her chair.
“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. Helen, I love you so much. Come back to me. Let’s be a proper family. I will take such good care of you. All of you.”
The silence following his words lengthened until Helen thought she would have to speak, even though she had no idea what to say. As the silence reached breaking point, she was literally saved by the bell, as the doorbell rang out.
Daniel tried to mask his irritation at the interruption, but Helen was glad of the space to think.
Laying Jasmine down in her moses basket, Daniel marched swiftly to dispatch whomever was at the door.
Helen closed her eyes, relieved to have some distance between them. She couldn’t deny the thudding in her chest or the weakness in her knees. How long have I waited for him to make that kind of declaration? It’s too late. I love Marcio. The twins love him. He’s their dad now. But she knew that at least was not true. Whatever happened, Daniel would always be their real father.
She heard raised voices at the door and realised one of them was Sharni’s.
Laying James in his basket next to Jasmine she hurried out to stop a full scale row.
“What on earth is going on out here? You are going to wake the children.” Helen’s fierce whisper cut through the argument, before both Sharni and Daniel turned to her.
Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes Page 31