‘Why on earth would we do that?’ her mother would say with a shocked expression if anyone enquired. ‘This is our home!’
And most Sundays had panned out like this for as long as Jessica could remember. Throughout her childhood, after the birth of Freddie, during the collapse of Fran’s first marriage, on visits home from university, in the whirlwind early days of her own relationship, for the first kicks and then shocking wallops of a baby growing in her tummy, in the days since Bella had been born, and the dark days after Fran and Freddie returned home. All the family gathered together, chatting, eating giant plates of food, and heading home when her parents insisted on retiring to the lounge for their weekly fix of Antiques Roadshow. It was Jessica’s happy place. It was her safe place. And she knew that as Bella grew up, she’d feel exactly the same.
Jessica wasn’t sure whether Fran and Freddie would ever move back to their old neighbourhood of Dulwich. She knew her mum and dad loved having them close, never happier than when their house was filled with bustle, noise and family.
Freddie was a quiet child, but he seemed happy. He had joined a school close to his grandparents’ house shortly after they had moved and had quickly found a group of friends to kick a ball around with after school. That led to an invite to the local football club – and with weekends spent playing matches, watching matches, or eating his grandmother’s gigantic roasts, he was a happy, carefree thirteen-year-old boy. Jessica couldn’t feel prouder of him, as she watched him glued to clips of Extreme Soccer Skills on his tablet.
The spell was broken by a yell from the kitchen: ‘It’s ready! Come through!’
And the whole family was soon sitting around the kitchen table, tucking into slices of perfectly-cooked beef (brown on the edges, pink on the inside), scoops of gooey cauliflower cheese, spoonfuls of runner beans, piles of peas, and generous helpings of roast potatoes.
As the boys at the table started chatting about last season’s league positions (Chris entirely motivated by the fantasy football league he was planning to join in with again at work) and her mother busied herself passing dishes around the table, Jessica and Fran had a moment to talk.
‘So, Jessy, do you think you’ll go to the big baby food launch? You probably should… You can’t really turn these things down if you want to be a serious blogger,’ Fran prodded again.
As she finished chewing her mouthful of roast potato, Jessica paused for a moment to think. ‘I probably will. I guess I’m lucky to be invited. I just hate going to things where I don’t know anybody.’
Fran thought for a moment. ‘What about Tiggy? Maybe you could ask if she fancies going together?’
‘Well, no,’ Jessica said, feeling her cheeks blush. ‘She still hasn’t replied. She’s probably busy. Or maybe she doesn’t remember me after all…’
Fran stopped cutting into her slice of beef and looked up at Jessica. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘I know it’s been a long time, but I’m sure she’ll get back to you.’
‘Yes, I mean, I only sent the message yesterday. She’s just busy. She’s probably read it and completely forgotten about it…’
But their conversation was interrupted by a flying pea, which landed in the middle of the table, bounced, and landed with a plop in Jessica’s gravy, splashing her perfectly in the eye. The whole family turned to look at Bella, who let out a squeal of delight.
‘Nobody laugh,’ Jessica cut through the silence. ‘Nobody bloody laugh!’
But as Freddie exhaled, squeaked, and then dissolved into a fit of giggles, Bella grabbed a fistful of the peas remaining on her tray and launched them across the table. With a bounce, a plop, another bounce, another plop, and plenty of rolls, the entire family were covered in pea confetti.
Chris’ chair scraped backwards. ‘No, Bella!’ he said, trying his hardest not to laugh as he piled what was left on her plate into his hand to prevent further assaults. Bella, meanwhile, was waving her spoon in the air with delight and squealing happily. Her grandmother was trying to stifle her laughter, getting up from the table to grab a cloth from the kitchen sink while Grandad’s shoulders were shaking silently as he tried to hide his giggles. Fran was smiling proudly at her niece. Finally, Jessica and Chris allowed themselves to laugh along too, half-outraged and half-proud of their frustratingly vivacious daughter.
It was 5 p.m. when they finally made their way home, with tummies full of roast dinner and a Tupperware pot containing leftover apple crumble for Bella to tuck into the next day. With Chris agreeing to be the designated driver, Jessica had allowed herself a couple of glasses of red wine with lunch too, but now the bedtime routine was stretching ominously ahead of her, she was feeling sleepy and regretting the second glass.
‘You fancy putting Bella Boo to bed tonight,’ she said to Chris, as he pulled out of her parents’ drive and into the street.
He glanced at her and smiled. ‘Yep, why don’t you start typing up the next letter and check that email account for any new exciting event invites? I like doing bedtime at the weekend anyway.’
She smiled at her husband, placing her hand on his thigh as he drove. And as she watched the same familiar route flash past the window, she thought about publishing the next post and watching the comments pop up – and despite knowing it was silly, she felt tugs of worry about whether she might be on the receiving end of more negativity.
Deep in thought, the journey was quick for Jessica. They were soon pulling up alongside their house, Chris parallel parking on the street opposite. As Bella yawned sleepily, Jessica pulled her from her car seat and walked across the road to their blue front door.
Making the decision to accelerate bedtime, Chris had her bath running upstairs moments later and Jessica settled down at the dining table and opened her laptop. She started by logging into her email. She knew she should go to this baby food launch, and while she was in this mindset, she was going to send a reply to the PR to say she’d be there.
But as she opened her inbox, she was met with the sight of a new message highlighted in bold at the top.
Maria Davies: Collaboration with Mama & Me Designs?
‘Collaboration?’ Jessica said out loud, her fingers moving quickly to open the message.
And there it was.
Hi Jessica!
I hope you don’t mind me emailing out of the blue! My name is Maria and I am the head of digital marketing for Mama & Me Designs. We make a range of stylish, organic clothing for women and their children, and for the last three years, we’ve worked with a team of mummy bloggers to showcase our range through their posts and social media feeds.
This year, we’d like to mix things up a bit and add some new members to our team – and your blog has caught our attention. We love the way you write and illustrate your posts, and it would be great to be one of the first brands that you collaborate with. This would be a paid campaign, so there would be a fee and you’d get to keep the clothes that you both model too.
Perhaps we could have a quick chat on Monday and I can explain more?
Kindest,
Maria Davies
‘Me?’ Jessica repeated out loud.
And as she re-read the email from beginning to end for a second, and then a third, and then a fourth time, her mouth fell open in shock.
7
Followers – 2,770
Emails in inbox – 23
Event invitations – 1
Paid collaborations – 1
Dear Bella,
I was scared to take you out on my own at the beginning. Really scared. You didn’t cry very often but when you did, you demanded milk that very second. The thought of us being in the middle of a park or wandering down a street when you started screaming, filled me with dread. So, we stayed at home for the first few weeks, comforted by the proximity of the sofa, my giant breastfeeding cushion, and a vast supply of spare babygrows folded neatly in a drawer. I lived in my maternity pyjama bottoms and baggy T-shirts that skimmed my still-deflating tummy. I was mostly covered in baby
sick and usually walked around with a soggy muslin over my shoulder, which meant that I exuded a strong whiff of vomit too. In hindsight, I know my unkempt appearance, baggy clothes, and suspicious aroma was totally normal for the early days of motherhood, but I felt like a mess. Looking back now, I realise my confidence was at an all-time low.
So, we only ventured outside our front door in the early weeks when I had back-up in the form of Daddy or your grandparents – and even then, I made every effort to persuade them that staying at home was a better option. Sometimes visions of the pre-baby me crossed my mind, kissing Daddy at the station in the morning, skipping down the high street to get a coffee, and catching the reflection of my growing baby bump in shop windows as I strolled past. How could so much have changed in so little time? Why was I suddenly so scared to leave the safety of our little world at home?
Everybody encouraged me to put you in your pram and go for a little stroll, even if it was just to the end of our road and back, but the more they pushed, the more I feared doing it.
‘It’ll clear your head,’ Granny said, as she stood over me while I was feeding you on the sofa.
‘Come on, Jess, you can’t stay at home forever’, Grandad said, as he watched me make myself another coffee in the kitchen.
‘You’ll feel so much better for it,’ Daddy said on loudspeaker, as I changed yet another nappy and shook my head silently in reply.
He didn’t understand. None of them did.
But in the end, I didn’t have any choice. It was a Wednesday afternoon when my phone rang, and Auntie Fran was on the other end. ‘Can you pick up Freddie?’ she asked breathlessly – and I felt my breath catch in my throat.
‘Pick him up?’ I finally managed to get out, stuttering as I spoke.
‘Yep, please, Jessy. He’s in Greenwich Park with his football team and my client was running late so I lost track of time. Can you grab him and I’ll pick him up from yours? I’ve left it too late now. I’m panicking.’
‘Can’t Mum or Dad do it?’ I shot back. ‘I mean Fran, I’m really busy. Bella is due a feed soon. I’m not sure… I don’t know…’
‘I can’t get through to Mum and Dad – and I’m not going to make it in time now.’ She paused for a second, leaving me to desperately try and think up a better excuse, before adding: ‘He’ll be on his own, Jess… Please.’
I couldn’t leave your big cousin in the park on his own. A few seconds later, a message arrived with a pin to his location. I felt beyond panicked. In fact, I felt so dizzy with adrenaline that I stumbled a bit as I lowered you into your pram bassinet fast asleep, angry with myself that I could have woken you. You didn’t stir, so I bundled a couple of blankets on top of you and tried to gather my thoughts for a moment, making a mental checklist of what I might need over the next hour or so. Throwing a nappy, big muslin blanket, and some baby wipes under the pram, I took a deep breath and opened the door. A gust of wind hit me in the face as I negotiated our way down the path.
And just like that, we had left the house.
Together.
Just you and me, Bella.
For the very first time.
And do you know what?
It wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared.
Love Mummy x
*
‘The thing is,’ Maria explained, as Jessica held the phone to her ear, ‘Mama & Me is a young, fashionable brand – and for that to be communicated, we need a few new faces on the campaign.’
‘OK,’ Jessica replied, trying to sound professional as Bella and Tallulah scattered building blocks around her feet.
‘One of the girls in the office is an avid reader of your blog, so passed on your details,’ Maria continued, ‘and I really, really like it. And I think it’s amazing how quickly your following has grown!’
‘Oh, thank you’, Jessica said, following with a nervous laugh.
‘It’s impressive! And this is totally off the record,’ Maria continued, dropping the volume of her voice, ‘but we would like to make our campaign a bit younger and fresher this year, with younger mums and younger babies!’
Jessica laughed again, wondering just how young Maria thought she was.
‘So now the big question!’ Maria said, raising her voice to its regular volume again. ‘Would you like to be on our team?’
‘Oh, well yes, I think, I’d love to be. What would it involve?’ Jessica asked, reaching down to pick up a brick from behind her heel and realising her hand was shaking with nerves.
‘That is brilliant news!’ Maria replied. ‘We are so pleased to have you on board! So we’ll start with a post today on our social feeds announcing the new team, and then we’ll send you over the details for the shoot, which will be towards the end of August at our head office.’
‘Wow, OK,’ Jessica said, swallowing with nerves and excitement.
‘And then when those pictures are ready, we’ll just ask you to share one or two on your social feed. We’ll pay your invoice within thirty days,’ Maria added cheerfully.
So it was official: Jess was joining the Mama & Me blogger team. As she walked back to the kitchen, where Henny was busying herself washing up coffee mugs, she couldn’t help smiling.
‘All go OK, babe?’ Henny asked, as she turned off the tap and looked up at her friend.
‘Yes,’ Jessica replied. ‘Oh, you didn’t have to wash up Hen, I was going to do that later.’
‘Oh, it’s no bother! So what did she say?’ Henny asked, as she scooped Tallulah into her arms.
‘Well, I think it’s all sorted,’ Jessica replied, glancing back into the lounge to check that Bella was still playing happily. ‘I’m going to be on the new team and they’re going to announce it later today. Everyone is going to be like “Who the hell is that?!”’
‘I think you’ll be surprised,’ Henny replied. ‘All the mums at school are reading now and were quite starstruck when they found out we were friends!’
‘Really?’ Jessica asked, taken aback. ‘I can’t quite get my head around that.’
‘Get used to it, babe,’ Henny said. ‘You’ll probably start being recognised on the street after doing this campaign!’
‘Oh, I doubt it,’ Jessica replied, laughing. ‘But guess what, Hen? I’m getting paid too.’
‘No way!’ Henny said, smiling at her friend proudly. ‘How much are we talking? Do you mind me asking, babe? Or is that rude?’
‘No, don’t be silly! It’s going to be £200 for each of the posts. Do you think that’s good?’ Jessica asked.
‘£200 for posting a picture?’ Henny asked. ‘I think that’s bloody amazing babe!’
‘Probably a lot less than other bloggers get offered, but it’ll be nice to have a bit of my own money again,’ Jessica replied.
‘How much do you think they charge, then?’ Henny asked, as Tallulah struggled to get back down again. ‘I know it’s really uncouth to talk about money, but I’m really interested in it all.’
‘Oh God I don’t know? Hundreds more? Thousands more?’ Jessica said. ‘I really don’t know.’
‘Wow, fair play to them. Did you hear back from the blogger lady you contacted, by the way? The one you knew when you were growing up?’ Henny asked.
‘Tiggy?’ Jessica asked, pretending she wasn’t painfully embarrassed by the lack of reply. ‘Oh no… I’m sure she’s got enough on her plate with the blog and her kids…’
‘Oh yeah, probably, I’m sure you’ll hear back soon.’ Henny replied, with a kind smile.
And Henny was right – but it didn’t happen for another three weeks. The message finally came on a Friday night while Jessica was bathing Bella and sending a silent prayer that her husband might be joining her at some point on the sofa. In fact, when her phone had pinged, she had fully expected it to be a stream of excuses about why he was still at his desk – so seeing it was a message from Tiggy had been a relief of sorts.
Until she read it, that was.
Because even though Tiggy hadn’t been ru
de or deliberately unkind, Jessica knew it was a snub. She didn’t want to have coffee with her, or chat to her, or give her any advice. And right from the moment she read the words on the screen, she wished she could backtrack and un-send her message. She was painfully embarrassed.
*
That Sunday, while surrounded by her three best friends and their families at a barbecue hosted by Mel, she confided in the girls.
‘So, what did the message say?’ Mel asked, as they all stood around her in the kitchen.
Jessica pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans and scrolled to the message.
Jessica
I’ll check out the blog if I find the time.
Best of luck with it all.
‘And that’s it?’ asked Deena.
‘Yep, that’s it.’ Jessica replied.
‘And you reminded her about growing up on the same road? And asked if she fancied meeting for a coffee, so you could chat?’ Henny asked.
Jessica nodded.
The four friends were silent for a moment, replaying the message in their minds.
‘Well, I guess it’s better than nothing,’ Deena said, finally. ‘She does have five kids…’
‘I know,’ Jessica began. ‘To be honest, I didn’t expect to get a reply at all…’
‘What, because she’s got a billion followers on social media?’ interrupted Mel, as she dropped a slice of lemon into each glass. ‘Oh, come on, Jess! You know her from childhood! Surely she owed you more than a quick “Sorry I’m busy, see ya!”’
Jessica nibbled a fingernail.
‘You know what?’ Henny said. ‘She could just be busy! She might send another message when she has time. I mean that could happen? Give her the benefit of the doubt.’
Jessica nodded.
‘Do you know what, though?’ Mel said, unscrewing the lid from a bottle of gin. ‘I don’t even think you need her help any more. You’re doing pretty well on your own, aren’t you? Event invitations, paid jobs, loads of followers! You only started your blog a few months ago and look where you are already! Forget her! You can sound things out with us if you aren’t sure about something.’
From Mum With Love Page 8
