I clicked through to read the article he had sent while the kettle boiled. There was still no reply from Timothy, who was clearly ignoring me. After ten years together, it seemed harsh, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t glad at the same time: I wished I had never sent that message. I decided that if there was no word from him today, then I would put it out of my mind completely. I had looked in on the children before coming down, but they were fast asleep, and it seemed a good idea to leave them that way, after their late night. I had been expecting to see Bunny, who was usually an early riser, so before I settled down to eat, I went up and knocked gently on her door. The ‘come in’ was barely audible and I went in to find her still in bed, the room dark.
‘Good morning. Are you all right? I wondered if you’d like any breakfast?’
‘Pixie, you are kind to think of me.’
Her words ended in a sob, and I went to sit on the bed, taking her hand.
‘Bunny, what’s wrong?’
‘Oh Pixie, I feel so dreadfully sick. I’ve been throwing up for an hour, although there’s nothing left to come out. And I’m so…hopeless.’
She started crying in earnest now, and I leant over to hold her shaking body, soothing her as I might have done one of the children, stroking her hair and muttering words of comfort. As she calmed down, I decided to start in a practical way. As ever.
‘What normally helps with the sickness? Do you need to eat something?’
She nodded.
‘It does help, but I couldn’t face getting out of bed and going down.’
‘I’ll ask Pilar to prepare something, and I’ll bring it up. I won’t be long.’
Ten minutes later, I returned to the room with a plain breakfast to find her sitting up in bed looking, frankly, appalling. Her hair was lank, her face grey and her eyes so painfully sad that it was all I could do not to burst into tears myself. Instead, I encouraged her to eat and was soon rewarded with a tiny bit of colour in her cheeks.
‘Thank you, Pixie, I do feel better. Sorry for being so silly.’
‘Not silly in the least. You’ve got a lot to contend with at the moment – the pregnancy, your work, the twins…’
I trailed off, not wanting to mention her husband’s apparent ambiguity, but she didn’t shy away.
‘And Ben running away. Yes, it’s a lot. And Pixie, I feel so dreadfully guilty about the twins. I must, must get these commissions finished, that’s one thing, but now with the sickness, and the prospect of two more babies…I feel like I can never give them the time and attention they deserve, and I’m missing out on their childhood too.’
Fat tears started rolling down her cheeks again. I wasn’t sure how to comfort her, because I knew I would feel exactly the same in her situation, and I liked her too much to offer empty, meaningless words. I went for robust but sympathetic.
‘Bunny, I am so, so sorry. It’s a very difficult time for you. All I can say is that the twins really are fine, so don’t disappear off down a rabbit hole of imagining their wan and weeping little faces as it truly isn’t how it is. They’re fast asleep right now, anyway, after their amazing outing last night. I’m also sure you will feel better once the nausea settles. What happened last time you were pregnant?’
‘It did stop – around this sort of time actually.’ She brightened. ‘Maybe I haven’t got much longer of feeling this bloody awful and then you’re right – everything will be easier. I wish Ben were here.’
‘I know, but right now he’s doing whatever he needs to. You can’t do anything about that right now, so concentrate on what youcancontrol. How much longer until you’ve finished the commissions?’
‘Oh Pixie, you’re so wise. I could get them finished today if I can work uninterrupted. That would be marvellous. I feel better already.’
‘Good. Then finish up your breakfast, have a long shower or bath and get busy. Phina and Caspy are absolutely great and will love to see you later, when you’re ready for them.’
I left her in peace and went to tidy up the twins’ room and gently wake them. As I folded little clothes and stacked teddies, I allowed my mind to wander to forbidden territory. How much I loved this domesticity, these routine, caring jobs which held no real excitement or status but which I longed to fill my days with. Doing this job was giving me a small flavour of what it was like to be a mother, and all that did was to tear at the void inside, emphasise the hollowness. Would moving to India, seeking adventure, really manage to fill it, to satisfy me? I suspected not; one’s true personality does have a way of pushing through. But what else to do? I couldn’t, simply couldn’t, put myself through more hope and heartbreak. That, the loss of hope, had proved more painful than anything. At least if I set my sights on a different kind of life, one that didn’t include family and home, I wasn’t setting myself up for a fall. And maybe acceptance would come. Neither child had stirred as I had bustled around the room, but now I twitched the curtains open, determined to channel my best affectionate-but-detached Mary Poppins. My resolve wavered instantly, as they blinked sleepily against the milky morning light and rubbed their eyes, snuggling back down again into their cosy beds.
‘Come on, you two,’ I said softly. ‘Time for some breakfast and then we can think about what to do today.’
Fifteen minutes later, we were downstairs, having breakfast and reliving the best parts of last night’s panto. Pilar had joined in to discuss how on earth the second Ugly Sister managed to pile her hair up so high and keep it there, when Lando came in.
‘Morning all.’ He plonked a strong-looking coffee on the table and sat next to me. ‘Look, Penny, I’m sorry I vanished last night. I had a phone call I had to deal with.’
‘Who was it, Uncle Lando?’ piped up Seraphina, waving her spoon excitedly. ‘Ineverget phone calls. Will they phone me, please!’
He smiled.
‘Just an old…friend. I didn’t really want to talk to her actually, so I’m sure you wouldn’t. I’m sure we can find someone much nicer to give you a ring, if you’d like that?’
‘Yes, please.’
