“You’re not upset?” Marcio was surprised by her reaction.
“No, it actually makes it easier. I was worried that I was keeping the twins away from a father who really wanted to be in their lives, who wanted the best for them. Knowing that he’s just trying to leverage some deal makes it the easiest decision in the world. Time enough when they’re older for them to know their dad, if they want. We don’t need to conceal from them that he exists. But now,” she looked over at the little wriggling forms, “Now they need nothing but love in their lives.”
Lying in bed that night, Helen mused on the last 24 hours. She felt drained, like she had lived through a year’s worth of emotions, and was still trying to make sense of them all. She thought about Marcio lying next to her, his gentle breathing a calming rhythm. To know that she had almost lost him made the bottom drop from her stomach. She wished there was a way she could convince him that he was the only father the twins had or needed; that his place in their lives was assured forever.
She thought back to her mother’s words about getting married. She thought about her own aborted wedding, all the planning and pressure. Even if they wanted to get married, she and Marcio could hardly handle that now. And Marcio, standing at the altar, watching his fiancée leave with someone else. Would he ever take that trip up the aisle again?
Helen knew she should sleep; every minute awake when the twins were quiet seemed a moment wasted. Still she couldn’t get the idea out of her head, churning round and round like a washing machine.
If only there were a way for us to tie the knot without it being a big day with a white dress and oodles of guests. I guess we could always get married in a registry office, but it seems too formal, like I want to marry him for his name, to give the children a father. We could run away to Vegas, but it doesn’t seem the same with a couple of newborns in tow. Besides, Daniel would have a field day if he ever found out. Nothing screams bad parent like taking your kids to a city renowned for gambling, drinking and crime.
As she turned over and plumped the pillows, hoping to get an hour of sleep before one of the babies needed a feed, she was no nearer to a solution. Still, it was something to think about while they were in Devon.
Chapter Twenty
The wind whistled round them as they stood on the platform waiting for the train to arrive. Helen wasn’t aware of the cold; she felt cocooned inside a fleecy blanket, as Marcio held his arm tightly around her waist. The twins were bundled in their snowsuits, only their precious faces visible through the fur hoods.
Pulling his coat tighter, Marcio looked around at the amount of bags they had with them, and chuckled. “Are we going for a month?”
“Babies need lots of stuff,” Helen laughed, the sound muffled by the scarf wound round her neck, “although don’t tell me what exactly. It’s lucky Mum’s managed to borrow a couple of travel cots, otherwise we’d really be overloaded.”
As it was they had to enlist the help of the guard to get the twins and all their baggage on the train before the doors hissed shut behind them. Helen felt the motion of the train pulling out of the station as the floor vibrated beneath her feet. She felt lighter, as if she had taken off heavy boots and left them behind on the platform. Swaying slightly and trying not to bump her sleeping bundle against anyone, she slid into the seat opposite Marcio and grinned.
“I feel like we’re escaping.”
“We are, aren’t we?” Marcio grinned back. “I’m sorry if I rather like the idea of Daniel banging on the flat door in a rage.”
Helen frowned at his words. She had seen Daniel when he was angry, and it wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate, even if she knew she wouldn’t be there to witness it.
“I’m sorry,” Marcio reached his free hand across the table, instantly contrite. “We won’t talk about him. We mustn’t let him come between us again.”
“It’s fine.” Helen forced herself to smile, unwilling to spoil the holiday feel that surrounded them. “I know together we can fight him, I’m just worried. We can’t hide in Devon forever.”
“Your mum seems to think he doesn’t have any right to sue for custody of the children. It will be okay, I’m sure of it.”
“I am too, but you don’t know Daniel like I do. He doesn’t give in easily.” Helen faced the window, barely conscious of the changing scenery, as dirty-grey buildings gave way to endless fields dotted with sheep.
“Then we’ll go visit my parents. Let him try to find us at the vineyard. Helen.”
She turned at the note of urgency in his voice.
“Don’t leave me again. We need to face this together.” Marcio could hear a hint of panic in his voice. When Helen’s face went blank he could see her retreating into whatever dark place she had been living in for the last few weeks. He couldn’t reach her in that place and it scared him.
Helen shook her head, as if trying to dislodge the clouds that surrounded her.
“I’m sorry.” Taking a deep breath she pushed her cheeks up into a smile. “I just need to tell him, you know, that I’m going to fight him. When I’ve said the words it will be easier. I’ll be able to gauge better how difficult he is going to make things for us.”
“Why don’t you call him?”
Helen’s heart began to race faster than the train and her mouth went dry. “No, not now. Maybe later.”
Marcio looked shrewdly at her face and nodded. Jasmine began to stir and then cry quietly. “Time for a feed I think.”
Helen wasn’t sure how she felt about breastfeeding on the train. It was the thing that had made her most nervous about the trip to Devon. Looking round she could see that the train was still quiet. Nestling into the corner of her seat she made sure Jasmine was feeding okay then gently laid a muslin over her shoulder to hide anything from prying eyes. It was strangely soothing, watching the scenery flash past as Jasmine fed. The world paused, allowing her to find her feet.
Look at Marcio lounging on the opposite seat, with James asleep on his shoulder, Helen felt as if she was sat on a sunny beach with the ocean lapping at her feet. He really is rather gorgeous. I can’t believe I didn’t fight harder when I thought he was going to leave.
As they sat together with the fields and towns blurring by the window, Helen realised she had stopped really seeing Marcio since the babies were born. They had existed like co-workers sharing a punishing shift pattern as they divided between them the load of nappy changes, feeds and rocking the twins to sleep.
Soon both babies were fed and the swaying of the train had rocked them to sleep. They slumbered, each nestled on a parent, while Helen and Marcio chatted gently about something and nothing. There was still some constraint between them, things unsaid, things that would have been better unsaid.
Helen looked down at the tiny face nestled into her shoulder. The last time your daddy and I just sat together was when I was in labour, waiting for you to arrive. I love you very much, but he’s important to me too. I need to find a way to fit you all into my life, without losing myself. It won’t be easy, but I’m going to try.
Turning away from his contemplation of Helen’s beautiful face, as she dozed on the other side of the table, Marcio gazed out the window at the familiar landscape. It seemed he had spent too much time on the train to the south-west recently.
Should I come clean? Is now the time for confessions?
He looked back at Helen’s sleeping form. Her face was peaceful; the strain of recent weeks erased by sleep and the lulling motion of the train. His heart twisted in his chest at the sight. It was wonderful to be so close to her again; he couldn’t bring himself to spoil it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maggie took one look at Helen’s careworn face and clucked her tongue. Turning to Marcio she said in a tone of voice somewhere between friendly and threatening, “You haven’t been taking very good care of my daughter!”
The rebuke hurt, but Marcio acknowledged it was deserved. He had been so caught up in his own fears and worries, he
had failed to see how exhausted Helen was, never mind appreciating the pressure Daniel was heaping on her. It cut him to the quick to have let both Helen and Maggie down.
Hanging his head, Marcio said sheepishly, “I know, Maggie. I’ve failed miserably. I intend to make it up to her, I promise.”
“Well, you can start now. Helen, darling, you need some time away from the babies. No time like the present.”
“All I want right now is to sit with a cup of tea and let the world stop moving.”
The novelty of being on the train with Marcio had worn off after an hour or two, and the reality of travelling with infants had returned. Although the twins had slept most of the journey, she had still had to face the challenge of changing a nappy on a tiny swaying table in a smelly toilet cubicle.
“Of course, darling. But after that, I want you to go and have a nice long sleep or get outside and fill your lungs with good Devonian oxygen. Marcio and I will mind the babies, won’t we?” Her face brooked no denial.
When it seemed Helen might protest, Maggie linked her arm through her daughter’s and led her to a sofa, lecturing her in her finest Mum knows best voice. “Although they’re only little, the twins are still a huge responsibility, smothering you like a heavy cloak. You probably don’t realise you’re wearing it, but you’ll feel the difference if you just have an hour or two without them.”
As she sank gratefully into the worn sofa cushions, Helen realised her mum was right; she hadn’t actually been more than a few feet away from the twins since they were discharged from hospital a month ago. In fact, aside from their short sojourn in intensive care, she hadn’t been away from them in nearly ten months if she thought about it.
“Thanks, Mum, it would be nice to be able to take some pictures again. I’ve barely had the camera out since the birth.”
As she curled into the protective hug of the sofa, warming her hands on a steaming mug of tea, Helen looked out the window at the darkening sky.
Marcio’s eyes followed her gaze. “Do you want to wait until the weather gets better?” His voice was heavy with concern.
“Not at all. Rays of sun through storm clouds are one of my favourite things. It’s so dramatic. I’ll be fine, I’ll take a coat.”
Suddenly eager to be off, Helen drained her tea and stood up with unexpected vigour.
“If you’re sure. You take it easy, you’re still recovering.”
“Marcio, I’ll be fine,” she said again, kissing him on the cheek. She checked on the twins, who were both still sleeping after the long train journey. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
Helen realised the truth of her mother’s words almost as soon as the house was out of sight. Striding over the hills, unencumbered by pram or baby bag, she felt an unimaginable weight drop from her neck and shoulders, like lifting off a heavy rucksack. She felt as if she could bounce like a baby deer across the springy hillside grass.
Best not. Knowing my luck I’ll fall in a rabbit hole and sprain my ankle.
The indigo sky ahead and the hazy sun behind drew out the latent colours from the winter hedgerow. Normally a dull brown, they were alive with purples and oranges, the lighting effect better than any that could be achieved in a studio. Behind the towering grey clouds a rainbow shone weakly.
Nature is just so dramatic. Helen smiled. She loved days like these. The constantly changing colours made her feel alive and urged her to reach for her camera. For the first time in weeks she felt something other than tired and alone.
Around her the grass glowed emerald-green as it marched in great swathes down the hillside. Helen stood face-on to the wind, willing it to blow away the fog clouding her senses, to energise her weary limbs. It dragged tears from her eyes and made her nose stream like a sick child’s.
Even though she was away from Daniel’s grasp and on the road to reconciliation with Marcio, Helen still felt low. The exhaustion from weeks of round-the-clock feeding, together with the constant fear that she would make a terrible mistake and one of the twins would be taken from her, pressed her soul deep down into the ground beneath her feet. The water being dragged from her eyes by the wind soon became real tears.
And then all her fragile delight was gone. Even here on the hillside with her precious camera ready to capture the scene, she felt desolate and desperate. Helen stood with her camera dangling from numb fingers, the tears threatening to overwhelm her.
Don’t cry. You have cried enough tears. Focus, Helen, focus. It will get easier, it will get better.
Helen concentrated on breathing through the pain, as she had in labour. It was so hard. The world seemed black, narrowed to a tiny point, and it was so difficult to think.
Helen turned to face the way she had come, about to head back to the farmhouse and admit defeat. I can’t even be away from the twins for five minutes without falling apart. I really am pathetic.
As she turned, the sun’s rays shone from a cloud over to her left, illuminating a hillside just out of sight. It seemed symbolic somehow, as if joy were someone else’s always just out of reach, over the horizon.
It has to get better, Helen told herself again. Spinning round in a circle, she took in the endless landscape, the moody sky, the lack of human life. I have to find the strength to get through this. The word strength resonated in her mind, and she remembered Dawn’s words from months before. Strength will come. Maybe all she needed to do was just take one day at a time, put one foot in front of the other.
Thinking back to Zoe’s last visit, Helen remembered more of the wise words the health visitor had imparted to her.
Being a new mum is like learning to sail a boat. To begin with you need to just sit really still, fight the seasickness, try not to get thrown overboard. After a while, that will be easy, and you’ll be able to pull up a sail. Which will seem hard, but soon that too will be easy. In no time you’ll be sailing, enjoying the view. There will always be new challenges and new joys, but in a surprisingly short time you will find yourself wondering why you ever had to sit still just to avoid falling out the boat.
Then it felt as if strong studio lights were being shone on her as, for a brief instant, the sun shone fully on her tear-streaked face. It was dazzling and seemed to illuminate something in her heart. Then, as fast as a shutter click, it was gone. In that tiny moment, though, a spark of hope landed on the dry tinder of her dreams. She dared not fan it, for fear of extinguishing the light.
Let it smoulder, her mind said. Let it burn.
When she returned to the farmhouse, Helen’s cheeks had regained some colour and her heart felt lighter. She hadn’t taken many pictures, content just to walk briskly swinging her arms, breathing the fresh air and clearing her lungs of London smog. Much as she loved the city, she couldn’t deny that the air was sweeter here away from the traffic.
She found her family all sat together. The twins were awake and, it seemed, had both just consumed a large bottle of formula. Helen felt a small pang, until the twins sensed her arrival and both started mewing for mummy. Feeling an answering let-down sensation, Helen swiftly sat and allowed Maggie to hand her both of the twins to be latched on.
It was lovely, to have people to help, to bring her a footstall and a mug of tea. The seasickness was fading and she felt almost strong enough to haul up the sail.
Curled up next to Marcio on her squashy family sofa, Helen looked at silent baby monitor on the table, and let out a sigh. Her parents sat in their armchairs, reading their books, while she and Marcio enjoyed a rare child-free cuddle. The room was warm in a way their flat never seemed to be, and the walls sat sturdy around her. She felt able to relax for the first time since leaving hospital. She hadn’t realised how much the thought that Daniel might appear and demand the babies had permeated her mind. It was only now, when she knew they were safe, that she was aware of the fear. Now I know they’re safe. Even if Daniel found out where she was, and made the journey down, he would still have to deal with her father, Marcio, and of course Dylan the goat. Mum h
ad been true to her word and had tethered him near the front gate.
When her phone began to ring, the room went silent. Helen was expecting Daniel to call, as he’d said he would come round to the flat that day, and he would want to know where she and the twins were. Looking at the phone vibrating on the table, his name in neon letters, she wondered if she would have the courage to answer it.
Marcio squeezed her hand, “do you want me to talk to him?”
“No,” she said firmly, “I have to do this.”
She picked up the phone and walked into the kitchen where the signal was best, and where she could be alone.
“Hello?”
“Helen, where the hell are you?” All pretence at charm had vanished from his voice.
“Away.”
“That’s obvious. I’m standing outside your flat and there’s no-one home. How dare you? You knew I was coming round today. This is not helping you, Helen.”
Helen’s hands shook and her stomach lurched. She hated confrontation and, even though he was hundreds of miles away, hearing his ire pouring into her ear was making her legs wobble.
Pull yourself together, Helen. He can’t hurt you. It’s just words. Be strong.
Sitting carefully in the same chair she had curled up in months ago, on first leaving Daniel, Helen concentrated on everything that had happened since. He has made you feel weak for too long. You are stronger than this.
Focusing on the fact that she was currently safe from his machinations, Helen poured all her emotion into the anger simmering beneath the fear. Through the phone held to her ear Helen could make out Daniel’s breathing. She could almost hear him trying to remain calm.
“When will you be back?” The deliberate pronunciation of the words conveyed how tightly Daniel was holding on to his temper. Instead of scaring her, it made Helen smile. It felt good, to have the upper hand for once.
Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes Page 34