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‘Your mummy is clever, too,’ I tell Lola. ‘Beautiful and clever.’ I rest my shoulder on the doorframe, having to dip my head a little to maintain my view of her. Izzy’s fingers repeatedly go to her hair and push it back over her ears, the mid-length dark waves refusing to stay put. I look down at the back of my baby girl’s head and drop a kiss there. ‘You have your mummy’s hair.’ I laugh, probably too loudly, when Lola blows a huge wet raspberry.
‘Shhh, you’ll get us in trouble.’ I look up, and right on cue, Izzy looks over her shoulder and spots us through the glass. Her face, fresh and free of makeup, glows the moment she claps eyes on us.
I grab Lola’s hand and hold it up, directing her little wave. ‘Say, “Hi, Mummy,” ’ I whisper, making Izzy chuckle. She throws a quick, discreet wave in return and turns back to the lecturer.
It’s a long five minutes before everyone in the room finally stands and starts collecting up their books and bags, and Izzy is the first to break free from the crowds, hurrying to the door. I move back, and she bursts into the corridor, dropping her bag to the floor and going straight for my chest to claim Lola. Our daughter is squirming like a worm against me, so excited to see her.
‘Oh my God, I’ve missed you today.’ She unhooks Lola with ease and lifts her from the carrier on my chest, hauling her in for a squeeze, closing her eyes in contentment. I look down at the contraption strapped to my chest, wondering how the fuck she figured it out so quickly. ‘New toy?’ she asks, and I look up to find her grinning at the baby carrier.
I wave a dismissive hand, my heart turning to mush as I watch the reunion of my girls, my brain forcing my body to remain where it is until they’re done. I need a cuddle, too. Izzy removes her face from Lola’s neck and smiles up at me. ‘I’m certain you only come to collect me because you love the attention Lola gets you.’ She moves in and reaches up on her tippy-toes, pushing her lips to my scruffy cheek.
I scoff half-heartedly and slip an arm around her waist, pulling her in. ‘Rubbish,’ I lie. She has me nailed. For most of my adult life, people have given me a wide berth. And I liked it. I loved the fact that most were too wary to come near. Funny how having a baby strapped to your chest solves that. ‘Are you ready?’ I ask, relinquishing my hold, but only because I know the sooner I get them home, the happier I’ll be and the more devoted time I can spend with them. Izzy nods, and I dip to collect her bag, as always, staggered by the weight of it loaded with medical textbooks. Tucking her into my side, I start to walk them out to the car.
‘My boobs are going to burst,’ she grumbles, shifting a little to ease the pressure.
I wince in sympathy, knowing how much she suffers. She’s called me a few times in tears, her aching breasts heightening her emotion, saying she wasn’t sure if she could continue studying. I talked her down calmly and quickly before she did something she would regret. Like quit the course. ‘Good day?’ I ask, trying to distract her from her sore boobs.
‘Long,’ she replies, seeming a little unenthusiastic to share any more than that. I understand, so I don’t push for more, just cuddle her into my side harder, being careful of the boobs. She’s expressed her desire to shut down from studies the moment she’s free from the college and back with her family. The thought prompts a smile. Family. I have my love, and I have my daughter. The good to counteract all the badness of my life. The pure to overshadow the tainted. The peace to drown my demons.*As is routine now, Izzy bathes Lola once we’re home before getting her ready for bed and curling up on the couch for her bedtime feed. And as is routine for me, I sit at the opposite end silently watching the beautiful sight of my daughter suckling from Izzy’s breast. There are not many things these days that give me greater peace or pleasure than the vision of my two girls connected so intimately. Izzy’s head is resting back, her eyes closed lightly, and Lola is drifting in and out of sleep, her mouth stopping and starting with tired sucks.
Once I’m certain that Lola’s had her fill and her suckling stops and doesn’t restart, I edge up from the couch and move quietly towards them. Izzy’s eyes flip open when I gently gather Lola from her arms, her sleepy smile appreciative. She covers herself and sighs, leaving me to lay our daughter down for the night.
