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The midwife comes in and I give the baby a bottle and change her nappy and, as I go to wrap her back up, I look at her ears and around her nails. I remember Rose taught me that years ago. The baby’s as white as snow at the moment but I see the lovely coffee colour that she’ll one day be, and no, she’s not Noel’s.
But she’s a part of me.
Of him.
I walk back to the window with her and I don’t look to the mortuary, instead I look at the stars and the moon and I wonder where he is.
Wonder how I feel.
Wonder how we will be.
Then I look down at the baby and she’s gazing back at me and all I can do is smile.
Smile in wonder.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lucy
‘When can I see the baby?’
It’s the only thing Charlotte stops crying long enough to ask.
God, she just lost her pony last week and now her dad – I know it seem a bit cruel to compare the two, but Noodle was everything to her. I was just starting to see a glimmer of light when her dad went and died. Now her tears and questions and grief are so constant and for the last two nights she’s wet the bed.
I honestly don’t know what to do.
‘I want to see the baby.’
‘Soon,’ I say.
I’m up in her bedroom and she’s face down on the bed and I’m sitting on it rubbing her shoulder and, very annoyingly, Mum’s standing over me, rubbing mine.
Mum’s even offered to take her to see the baby.
Believe me, that is so not going to happen.
I just don’t know what to do.
Normally he’d have taken her to see the baby. I hardly ever see his family. Eleanor, I see a little bit and Noel a bit more lately, because he’s doing Charlotte’s braces, but I have nothing to do with the rest of them. Except these past few days I seem to be dealing with them more and more. Bonny rang this morning demanding to know when the funeral will be held and what’s holding it up? As if it’s my fault that the coroner hasn’t released the body. Wouldn’t they all love it if I told them what was holding things up?
The Coroner’s Office has been marvellous actually.
I’ll hear anytime soon, the lady I spoke to told me. I think they are speaking with his GP and I should hear later this afternoon.
Please God that he got the Viagra from Dr Patel and not the internet.
Please may he not have taken anything else, or been doing something kinky. Please let it all be above board, please may there be nothing else to find out.
Wouldn’t they just love it, wouldn’t they love hearing that their father did the same to me?
‘Lucy,’ Jess comes to the door. ‘Phone.’
‘I’ll stay with Charlotte,’ Mum says, and sits down to knead a less resisting shoulder as I go out to the landing.
‘It’s Alice,’ Jess says and I take the phone and walk back to the bedroom to give it to Charlotte, but Jess stops me. ‘She wants to speak to you.’
Great!
Alice wants to discuss the hymns and reading and things – she’s not trying to take over she assures me– which is a joke. Everything I suggest she dismisses, says that her dad wouldn’t want that – as if she sat down and discussed it all in detail with him just last week. ‘We just want some input,’ Alice says and I close my eyes - some input? They’re running the show. I wanted the funeral parlour that does it all, and a cremation, but you’d think I wanted to burn him alive from their reaction. Now it’s to be held in a church. I just grit my teeth and force myself to sound pleasant when I respond to her.
Wicked stepmother indeed!
‘Why don’t you email me some of your favourite hymns and readings and tell me who you want to speak?’
Oh, but that’s not enough for them.
‘Could we be there when you discuss the service with the vicar?’
I’m the nicest stepmother I know. ‘Of course,’ I say. ‘He’s coming this evening. You’re more than welcome to come over.’ I receive reluctant thanks and while I’m being so nice and reasonable, I decide that it’s time for them to be.
‘Is Eleanor home from the hospital?’ There’s another round of silence but I push on. ‘Only, I tried to ring and left a message. The thing is, Charlotte’s desperate to see the baby and normally your dad would have taken her to visit by now. I was going to ring Noel…’
That prompts her to speak. ‘Eleanor’s still in the hospital.’
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.
‘Just a few problems with feeding - the baby was a bit small.’
‘Okay.’ I think of Charlotte, I think of the one piece of good news I can give her and it forces me to speak on. ‘I might bring Charlotte in to visit this afternoon.’
‘Mum’s there a lot.’
That was my warning not to go, I tell Jess. She really is the most amazing friend. Jess has taken this week off work. There is just so much to sort out and we’re wading through it and she's helping me–but she won't help me with this. ‘Please Jess, I can’t have Mum take her…’
Mum will say something wrong, I know it.
Mum will say too much, for sure.
Mum doesn’t give a fag who knows.
‘Please, can you just do this?’ But the answer is no, Jess won’t take Charlotte to see the baby, it's something she thinks that I have to do myself.
‘I can't!’ I'm horrified at the prospect, especially as Alice has practically told me that Gloria will be there. ‘I just can't walk in and face Gloria. I can't face any of them.’
I’m not worried about Eleanor, things aren't so terrible between us–she was already married by the time her parents broke up and she and Noel have always been polite with me and lovely with Charlotte. Though it is going to be a bit awkward to see her. We’d guessed that the baby might not be Noel’s when we found out Noel had left a couple of weeks ago. We’d sort of worked it out…
We.
I feel panic closing around me. I’m not a part of a we any more – it’s just me.
He used to do all of this.
‘Please Jess?’ I hate to ask again, Jess has done so much already, but I hate even more that she's holding my hands and shaking her head.
‘You need to do this Lucy.’
‘I can’t,’ I beg. ‘Gloria will be there.’
‘Gloria might be at the funeral,’ Jess voices my dread. ‘It might be easier all around if you see her beforehand and just get it out of the way.’
‘I can’t!’ Apart from Monday, I haven't seen Gloria in ages. He always dealt with that side of things. The last time I saw Gloria, I was pregnant with Charlotte–that's how long it's been. None of his children came to my wedding and it was considered for the best that I wasn’t invited to Bonny and Lex’s - but a few months later, when they emigrated to Australia, he insisted that I come with him to the airport to say goodbye. That really was the last time I was there with all of them.
‘Lucy.’ Jess knows them too, knows what they can be like, know just how difficult that family can be at times, because Luke is still in touch with Gloria. ‘You're going to have to get used to seeing them.’ She confirms what I don't want to know. ‘They’re Charlotte’s family and just because her dad is dead, you can't take them away from her…’ Her voice fades off and I turn around and there is Charlotte standing at the living room door.
She’s lost weight.
She's just a tiny little thing anyway, and she can't really afford to lose weight. It's written on her face–the strain that she is under. I've told her that she doesn't have to go back to school until after the funeral, but it’s taking so long that I don't know if it was the right thing to do. She needs one good thing, she needs this to happen and, stuff the lot of them, I'm taking my daughter to see her niece. I don't care how uncomfortable it is for them.
‘Eleanor and the baby are still in the hospital,’ I tell Charlotte. ‘I thought perhaps we could go and see them this afternoon.’ She lets out this tiny squeal of excitement. You can actually see the grief lift from her as, for a moment, she gets to be an eleven-year-old again but then she starts to worry.
‘We haven’t got her a present.’
‘Mum’s going to go to the shops and get one now,’ Jess says and my eyes widen in panic, I'm just not ready to go out. For Charlotte I'll go to the hospital, but I absolutely cannot face the shops but it would seem that Jess has been busy. ‘I booked you a hair appointment,’ Jess winks. ‘Can't let those Nordic good looks fade.’
‘I'm not going to the hairdresser’s.’ It just seems wrong, people already think that I'm a cold-hearted bitch and they’re going to think it even more if I'm out getting my hair done when he's only been dead a few days.
‘He'd want you to look good,’ Jess says and it's true, it was all he wanted from me and, even if they're not quite showing, I do have roots. If I don't deal with them now, by the funeral they'll be there for all to see.
It matters.
It mattered to him.
And it still matters to me.
It feels strange to be out. The car feels strange, as if I haven't driven in weeks. A bit like when you get in the car after a holiday, or after I had Charlotte and drove for the first time. There's a coffee cup in the cup holder and Monday’s newspaper is on the passenger seat. I have this bizarre thought that maybe I should keep it for Charlotte. ‘Here you are darling. This is the newspaper from the day Dad died.’ It’s the sort of thing my mum would suggest! The seat has been moved back. I remember somebody moved it to let the ambulance out - I just parked it and ran in.
