by Melissa Hill
Kate swung her legs onto the ground and carefully – painstakingly – tiptoed to where Leah stood motionless in the doorway.
“You should go,” she whispered faintly, while keeping one eye on the baby’s crib. “He’ll be fine now – I think I have him down until his next feed.”
Leah was startled. “Go? I thought I’d stay on for a while, have a bottle of wine or something …”
Kate motioned her to the other side of the door and out into the hallway.
“A bottle of wine?” she repeated, an edge to her voice. “What what kind of a mother would I be if I go off getting pissed with my baby son in the next room? What if he wakes up again and I’m too out of it to see to him properly?”
“I never said anything about getting pissed, Kate.” Leah was taken aback at her tone. “I just thought it would be nice for you and me to relax a little, seeing as we’re not going out – have a bit of a girlie night in, I suppose.” She shrugged, feeling unsure as to what was the right thing to say or do.
“For heaven’s sake Leah, there’s more to life than going out and having silly conversations about handbags and shoes,” Kate whispered loudly, but to Leah it sounded more like an impatient hiss.
Stung, she looked away.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Kate sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m just not up to it tonight.”
“But I wasn’t suggesting anything like that.” Leah tried not to betray her upset. “I just thought that with the way things are at the moment, your kicking back and relaxing a little bit might help.”
“What? What do you mean ‘the way things are at the moment’, Leah?” Kate snapped again. “Do you think that just because Dylan was crying tonight that I’m not coping? That I’m not a good mother, is that it?”
“Of course not. Of course that’s not what I meant. Kate, I wouldn’t dream of suggesting anything like that.” She looked up and seeing Kate’s hard expression, realised that whatever she said tonight would probably be the wrong thing.
All of a sudden, she felt terribly guilty. Poor Kate was obviously worn-out and hassled, and most likely all she wanted was an early night while she had the chance. Leah had been silly in suggesting anything else, and she shouldn’t really blame Kate for getting frustrated. Leah would be frustrated too if she had been stuck all day and possibly most of the previous night with a screaming baby who couldn’t settle, and then the first second she has to relax, her friend wants her attention.
No, Kate was right. She should leave her alone for tonight, and let her get some much-needed sleep.
“You’re right,” she said, resting a hand on her friend’s arm and getting a weak smile in return. “You’re tired, and I’m sure the last thing you need is visitors tonight. I’ll go and leave you to it, and perhaps we can arrange another night, when you feel up to it.”
She winced, regretting her choice of words as soon as they were out, and Kate’s expression instantly hardened.
“I’m not ill, you know,” she said touchily. “I just happened to have a bad day with him today – he’s usually fine.”
“I know that.” At this stage, Leah couldn’t wait to leave. She picked up her coat from the banister. “Look, get some rest tonight and I’ll give you a ring during the week, OK?”
Kate nodded, and Leah thought she spotted a look of relief on her face as she closed the door behind her.
Despite herself, Leah felt hurt by this. Of course she could appreciate her friend was tired and weary, but was it necessary for Kate to be so short with her? Leah’s only intention tonight had been to help Kate relax, to get her out of the house and back to the real world, albeit temporarily. She had known Kate long enough to be sure that her friend would appreciate that, that she would be grateful for a chance to escape the chaos and regain some sense of normality by getting dressed up and out for a night of good fun and good conversation.
But, obviously, Leah thought, as she got in the car and pulled out of Kate’s driveway, she had got it badly wrong.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK? Do you think I was being selfish?” Leah asked Josh after he’d returned from yet another late shift at Homecare.
“I wouldn’t see it like that,” he answered, taking a beer from the fridge. “Kate made the arrangement with you in the first place – it’s not as though you just arrived on her doorstep, dressed up to the nines and demanded to be entertained.”
Leah bit her lip, recalling Kate’s impatience at her suggestion that they stay in with a bottle of wine.
“It was the way she looked at me though – as if I was this brainless shallow idiot.”
“I wouldn’t make too much of it, Lee – it’s probably just a phase she’s going through. How old is the kid now – three, four weeks? She’s bound to be finding it hard going.”
“I know, but I just thought she’d appreciate … oh, I don’t know,” Leah followed him through to the living-room, and then slunk down on the sofa beside him.
“And Michael snaked off to the local, huh?” he said, putting an arm around her. “Looks like fatherhood’s getting too much for him already.”
Leah had her own opinion on Michael snaking off and leaving Kate holding the baby, but she didn’t say anything. She was still reeling from Kate’s insinuation that she was shallow. Was she shallow? If shallow meant trying to get a good friend to relax and enjoy herself after having a busy time, well then, call her shallow. OK, so she knew nothing about motherhood and never would, but surely it couldn’t be good for either Kate or her baby if she couldn’t take time out for herself. Of course, if Dylan was ill, that would be a different story but the child wasn’t sick, was he?
If anything, he was just being a baby, crying and looking for attention. She remembered Ellie being the same for Olivia when she was a very young baby. Although she wasn’t around at the time, she remembered poor Olivia worrying incessantly about the child, and despite her friend’s insistence that she was never going to be one of those mothers who picked up her baby at the first whimper, she wasn’t exactly blasé about Ellie’s crying either.
That’s what she’d do, Leah decided, she’d talk to Olivia and find out how she felt about things when she first had Ellie. Maybe that would shed some light upon Kate’s behaviour, and why she seemed rather obsessive about her role as a new mother. She might also ask Olivia to have a bit of a chat with Kate, and maybe Kate might open up to a fellow mother. Unfortunately, Leah couldn’t understand what she was going through now and, she thought sadly, she would never understand. But Kate would get over it all and their friendship should be back to normal soon, shouldn’t it?
And in the meantime, she thought, cuddling into Josh on the sofa, if Kate wasn’t interested in catching up, then she and her boyfriend could certainly do a bit of catching up of their own.
36
Ben and Robin stood in their apartment, and looked at one another in awe. Robin picked up and flicked through the glossy pages of one of the proof copies she had just received from the publisher.
Atchoo the Allergic Alligator was now a beautifully illustrated picture book and completely different to the one they had jokingly put together ages before. The basic story remained the same, although Robin had added a few more dramatic adventures before Atchoo finally learns to take his medicine properly, but she decided it was the illustrations that really made the book so impressive.
Bubblegum Press planned to release the books in a series and, in the meantime, Robin had written another three stories in a similar vein, but featuring different animals with different medical conditions. Hazel the Squirrel – a story about an unfortunate squirrel with a nut allergy, and a subject very close to Robin’s heart, – Dick the Diabetic Duck and Eleanor the Epileptic Elephant.
Due to the publisher’s enthusiasm, and some very well-timed press releases, the Atchoo series was gaining a lot of advance publicity. A few weeks earlier, Bubblegum had fallen over themselves in an attempt to issue a press release shortly after the US health Department pub
lished alarmingly high statistics on children’s allergies, and the part our disintegrating environment had to play.
They released another after a nationwide outcry when a preschool in Iowa refused an enrolment application from a young boy with a severe peanut allergy. The school wouldn’t accept the child on the basis that he would need “significant and continuous attention”, something neither the teachers – nor the school’s insurance company – were prepared to supply. One teacher gave a highly controversial interview asking why she was “suddenly being asked to practice medicine”. The argument prompted clashes between teachers, parents and health lobbyists, and for a solid week the majority of American opinion was split down the middle on the subject. As a result of this opportune media interest, and the associated word-of-mouth, confidence about the forthcoming series was high.
Pre-publication copies of the books had already been distributed to local and governmental health departments, and also to key children’s hospitals throughout the state. The response so far had been extremely positive, and the publishers were expecting considerable sales once the book was in stores. The major bookstores – Barnes and Noble and Borders – had initially dismissed the series as an aid for local health departments, but once the popular chainstore Wal Mart decided to stock the series as a result of the media exposure, they tentatively began making enquiries.
The first book Atchoo the Alligator was due for publication in November, and the others would be published consecutively with a two-monthly interval between each book.
“It seems I’m going to be busy for a while, then,” Robin said shaking her head in amazement.
She had met again with Bubblegum recently, and Lucy, the head of PR, had informed her that upon publication they would be doing state, and possibly nationwide TV, radio and newspaper interviews. Although the initial campaign would be focused primarily on Atchoo, the release of the other books should sustain interest and hopefully increase the series’ profile and momentum. Could Robin make herself available for a couple of weeks around then?
“Of course I can,” Robin enthused. So, she had booked her two weeks annual leave from Greene & Co, and instead of spending them on holiday in Ontario as she and Ben had planned, she would be spending them touring around New York state, visiting bookstores, radio stations and possibly, some school and health agencies.
It wouldn’t be much of a holiday, but Robin didn’t mind – in fact, she couldn’t wait, and she still couldn’t believe that this was actually happening, let alone happening so quickly. At Marla’s insistence, she had found herself an agent, a lovely woman called Jessie Logan, who had negotiated her contract and (in Robin’s opinion) her completely unwarranted advance – the first part of which was sitting in her bank account until she and Ben found a suitable house. Thanks to the unexpected windfall, they now had a little bit extra to play with, and were hoping to find somewhere quickly – Robin becoming more and more enamoured of the idea of putting down roots as time went by.
She’d been surprised at how much she enjoyed the writing. It wasn’t something that she’d thought about all that much before – although her teachers in school had always told her she had a great imagination. Still, she was definitely not one of those people who had always wanted to write. But writing for children, and even better, writing to help educate children, be it about allergies or algebra, was different and Robin found that she took to it like a duck to water.
As a result of the publication deal for her Atchoo story, she had more than once found herself staring vacantly into space and dreaming up different stories and adventures that might entertain and enthrall young children, when instead she should have been studying budget proposals and checking invoices.
Now, seeing her own words in print for the first time, Robin felt a shiver up her spine. “I think I could get used to this,” she said, flopping back onto the sofa, book in hand.
“Well, you’ll have to,” Ben laughed. “There are still another three books to come.”
“No, I mean I could get used to this,” she said, pointing to the text. “To the writing. I love doing it, but yet I never once considered it before now. Imagine me – a children’s writer!”
“But you’ve got real talent, Robin,” he said, sitting down alongside her. “I know you think the illustrations are the most impressive part of the book, but the publishers bought the story, they bought your story.” He shook his head. “And it is a bloody good story, besides the fact that it’s supposed to be educational. It’s charming and silly and playful and adults will love reading this to their kids. You’ve got it, Robin – whether you believe it or not, you’ve got it.”
“Ben, I’d love to believe I do have ‘it’ – whatever that may be – but, to be honest, I don’t see how. I don’t really know all that much about kids. OK, there’s Kirsty sure, but –”
“And you’re so good with her, you’re so good with kids in general.” He shook his head. “You know it really is such a shame that …” Ben quickly trailed off when she flashed him a warning look. “OK, OK, let’s not go there now, not at a time like this anyway.” He picked up the book and began flicking through it one more time.
“‘Let’s not go there’,” Robin teased, mimicking his accent.
“You brat,” he laughed, tickling her. “Don’t start going all high and mighty with me, just because you’re now a published author!”
Robin giggled and then Ben sat up and once more studied her name on the front cover. “Wow, you’re a published author!” he repeated, as if really realising it for the first time. “This calls for a celebration, Robin Matthews, and I’m taking you out to dinner!”
Robin sat up and grinned. “Great, where will we go?” she asked, feeling both excited and nervous about the thoughts of eating out somewhere.
“Chinatown?” Ben suggested with a twinkle in his eye, and Robin threw a cushion at him. “No, seriously, remember that place we went for our anniversary – it was safe enough, wasn’t it?”
“Safe but bland and way over-priced,” Robin said, remembering.
“Well, as long as the champagne tastes good, I couldn’t care less,” he said, and Robin wanted to hug him. Poor Ben, it really wasn’t fair on him that he had to pick and choose where they ate, and at times like this, it really hit home how lucky she was to have him.
“Champagne sounds great!” she said, getting into the spirit of things. What did it matter what the food tasted like? They were celebrating!
“Well, why don’t you go and get ready, and I’ll ring for a table,” he said, shooing her into the bedroom.
As Robin picked out a suitable outfit for the rather swanky but safe restaurant, she thought again about her little book, and wondered what they’d all make of it at home. She’d told her mother about the publication deal, of course, but her mum, while pleased for her, didn’t really understand, and seemed to think that Robin was printing out and publishing these books herself.
“Goodness knows we could have done like something like that when you were young,” Peggy had said. “It’s a great idea and, oh, I must say it to that new principal in the primary school – she might take a few off you.” She said this as though Robin would be flogging copies out of the boot of her car. “Although,” she murmured in afterthought, “the same one is a bit stuck-up in herself and might only want real books.”
Robin bit her tongue. “Mum, it’s fine, the publishers will be looking after everything and, to be honest, I don’t think the books will be available in Ireland anyway. But, of course, I’ll send you a copy when it comes out.”
“Great,” her mother said absently. “Well, best of luck with it anyway.”
Once again, Robin was glad that Peggy hadn’t asked when she was coming home for a visit. Her mother was good like that, really, and seemed to accept that Robin’s life was in New York now. She never made her feel guilty about leaving, and although she’d asked her mother many, many times to come and visit, she had never accepted. In a way, it was a
s though her mother was finally able to have a life of her own, now that she no longer had to worry about Robin.
Robin had always felt guilty about her parents’ break-up, and although her mother had never once blamed her directly, it was fairly obvious that Robin’s allergy had been the problem. Peggy and Robin’s dad, Tom, were on speaking terms these days, but Tom was with someone else now, and there was little likelihood of them getting back together. Anyway, Robin suspected that her mother didn’t care. After years of stressing and looking after a sickly child, she was now free to do as she pleased without worry. Why let a man complicate things?
Robin hadn’t yet said anything about the book to Leah. She wondered what she and the others – particularly Olivia – would think. Would they be pleased for her? She smiled. They would definitely be surprised anyway, and she could almost imagine Amanda Clarke going apoplectic over the fact that Robin was about to become a published author. Throughout college, Amanda had been convinced that she was the one who would ‘make it big’, be it in TV, modelling or whatever. Now it seemed as though Robin had pipped her to the post. She grinned, thinking how silly it was to be thinking of getting one over on old school friends, but people like Amanda, who had always been so dismissive about her, deserved it.
She really should tell Leah though. Of course she’d be delighted for her, although Leah was doing just as well herself these days with her new chocolate boutique. It was nice of her to send Robin and Ben an invite to her big launch night, but there was really never any question of them going – not to a chocolate launch anyway! Leah understood of course, but at times like that, Robin wondered how long they would be able to keep up the friendship ‘for old times’ sake’. She had moved on now, moved away from it all, and while she occasionally missed having a solid, dependable friend like Olivia, or someone to go out and have a good giggle with like Leah, she knew that it was inevitable that they would lose touch. Friendships, just like relationships, couldn’t really survive long-distance. Robin was certain of that.