She turned to Archie, but she couldn’t smile. He had the most adorable chubby cheeks, and when his blue eyes smiled her way he was beyond cute. Everyone told her how lucky she was to have a baby who only cried to be fed, changed, or cuddled. One woman at the baby clinic told her that her own baby didn’t stop whingeing.
Archie wasn’t the problem. She was. If her heart wasn’t racing it was fluttering. If her body wasn’t in a panic it was because she was manically cleaning anything in sight. If only she could sleep more than every other night, she was certain life would be bearable again. It was only exhaustion knocking her out in between the night sweats. Her appetite was poor, her head often light, and oh how her back ached. At least she had a doctor’s appointment next week and was sure she would receive an asthma pump for the tightness she kept feeling in her chest.
She pressed her head into the plump headboard and gazed at the netting up the window. The light would break through soon. She imagined all the other mums out there, full of rise and shine and ready to roll. They’d be putting on their ironed clothes and tying back their shiny hair, all smiles for their gorgeous husbands and perfect kids. Breakfast would be ready and schoolbags lined up at the door.
Beth couldn’t remember the last time she’d applied lippy, let alone brushed her hair with care.
The fridge creaked in the kitchen, the other end of the passageway. It was a familiar noise but still made her mouth twitch. Why couldn’t she hear noises involving a loving man singing in the shower, or her own voice sounding happy once more?
There was no one to blame for her new single-parent life but herself. Ticking off a one-night stand from her bucket list wasn’tas hot and steamy as she had imagined. More a stupid drunken fumble in the darkness of a hotel room at a conference, of all places. Had her life not been so lonely, she wouldn’t have gone down that road.
Beth had given up saying, ‘Why me?’ a long time ago. It was in her past. A past that left her with a future in the form of a son.
She wished her parents were alive to help and support her in her time of need, even though she was used to being on her own. She used to be able to hold her own hand quite well, but she often felt it would be nice if she didn’t have to.
Oh, how it was going to be so easy. Loads of people got on with parenthood, so why not her? Why did it have to go so wrong? It wasn’t fair she had no one in her corner helping.
She glanced at Archie again. He was fine. All that pregnancy drama, and for what? Nothing. He was perfect in every way, and now alone with her. She’d been through hell with worry before the birth and it had left her feeling as though she might die each day. Could she go back and tell the hospital staff? How could she tell anyone about the state she was in? They would take her baby away. Section her, possibly. Something bad would happen, because she was certain she had lost the plot at some point during her pregnancy, and not much had changed since the birth. At least that part went well.
A light hue sat in the window pane, and the sound of birds entered the room. Beth closed her bloodshot eyes and tried for a calming breath. Part of her brain told her to make a bottle up ready, but the tired part told that side to shut up. Sleep was needed. Lots and lots of sleep.
Archie made the smallest sound but it seemed to roar through the room, snatching away Beth’s respite. She jolted, not wanting to move a muscle, but she had no more choices. Her son was awake and hungry.
It was a struggle clambering to the kitchen to get on with her morning chores. Not only were there many unpacked boxes in the way from her recent move, but her weakness slowed her movements. The day after night sweats was always the worst. At least Archie would settle for a while after his nappy was changed, which she got on with while his milk cooled.
His little face showed signs of happiness as he stared up at the small teddy bears dangling over his head. Beth was a caring mum, that much she knew about herself, even if she had lost so much that she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her each morning in the bathroom mirror. If she wasn’t panicky and exhausted every day, they would have a normal life. Archie would see quality, not Beth Horton vampire meets zombie mum.
‘You deserve better,’ she whispered, cuddling her boy to her chest while lightly brushing over his wispy strands of strawberry-blond hair.
Maybe things will improve now we’ve moved to Port Berry.
She hoped.
Chapter 3
Spencer
Spencer was on shift duty at the Happy to Help Hub with his friend Alice. It had been a quiet morning, so he mostly spent time making up food parcels in the back room.
‘You doing deliveries later, Spence?’ asked Alice, popping her head around the door frame.
‘I’ve got two booked in after lunch. Why’s that?’
‘Just got a call from Mrs Bradshaw.’
Spencer nodded. ‘Sure. Add her to my list. It’s by the fruit bowl.’ He stood, stretching his back. ‘We need more tinned veg,’ he added, stepping into the shopfront that made the drop-in centre along Harbour End Road.
Alice waved a notepad in the air. ‘Yeah, I have another list.’
Spencer yawned as he approached the street door. He gazed across the road at the dark sea. ‘Bit choppy out there today.’
‘Mum always says Cornwall is only beautiful in the summer, but Nan disagrees. Reckons Mum isn’t looking properly to say that.’
Spencer smiled at the harbour. ‘I’m with Luna on that one. I can see the beauty here in each season.’
Alice joined him her light-brown eyes almost glazed over. ‘I don’t need to go outside to know what season we’re in. My body tells me.’
‘Your fibromyalgia playing you up today, Al?’
