Walking out their front door and down their path, Jessica turned and blew a kiss back to Dan and Henny standing in the hallway.
And with that, she hiccupped towards home.
9
Followers – 5,201
Emails in inbox – 51
Event invitations – 7
Paid collaborations – 1
Award nominations – 1
Dear Bella,
It was a warm day in the middle of May, and you were just nine weeks old, sleeping in my arms after a feed. I was zoned out watching some nonsense on the TV, with the doors open to the garden and a lovely breeze wafting into the lounge to cool us. Suddenly my phone started ringing next to me, jumping and buzzing as it rang, threatening to fly off the sofa. I was annoyed with that phone call at first, fearing it would wake you, and I considered stuffing the phone down the side of the sofa and ignoring it. But instead I sighed, picked it up, and answered it.
And that phone call turned out to be the worst phone call of my life.
‘Is that you, Jess?’ Granny asked, as I answered. ‘Yes, Mum, of course it’s me, are you OK?’ It didn’t sound like Granny. Her voice was high and nasal and my first thought was that she had a really heavy cold. When my question was met with silence, I added: ‘Are you sick?’ When that was met with silence too, apart from a couple of sniffs, it suddenly dawned on me that something was wrong. My body froze and my blood turned completely cold. I held my breath and waited, with every muscle tensed to try and protect myself against what was about to come.
‘Mum? PLEASE TALK TO ME!’ I was shouting now; confused and panicked. In my arms, your eyes opened. You stared up at me and then shut them again, completely oblivious to the horror that was unfolding.
Suddenly Grandad’s voice was on the end of the phone. ‘Jessica?’ he said.
‘Yes, Dad!’ I said, relieved to hear his voice. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s Michael,’ he replied.
‘Michael? What’s wrong? He’s had an accident?’
‘No, Jess, he’s dead.’
And then silence.
Grandad went on to tell me about how Uncle Michael had been on a business trip to Paris and hadn’t turned up to his meeting that morning. A chambermaid had found him in bed in his room later that morning, unresponsive. An ambulance was called and he was taken to hospital, but he’d already been declared dead right there on the hotel bed, with a view of the Eiffel Tower from his window.
As he spoke, I could hear the sound of sobbing in the background.
‘Where’s Fran?’ I interrupted.
‘She’s here. I’m leaving to get Freddie from school now. I’ve no idea how to tell him, Jess. I don’t know what we’ll say…’
‘How is she?’ I asked, unable to concentrate on anything but the sound of her sobs.
Grandad paused and sighed. ‘Well…’ he began, but his voice broke. And I didn’t need to hear any more.
Life changed when we got that phone call, Bella.
For Auntie Fran, who has missed Michael every second of every day since.
For Freddie, who lost the man he’d always considered a father.
For Granny and Grandad, who gave up their home without hesitation and stumbled, unprepared, into grief.
For Daddy, who lost one of his closest friends.
For me, because I watched people I loved so dearly fall apart.
And for you, Bella – because you never got to know an amazing man who loved you. Who held you in the biggest cuddles, rocking you gently until you slept. Who was always smiling, bringing warmth to a room as soon as he walked into it. Who made your Auntie Fran so happy, so complete, and so loved. I have no doubt that he would have been such an important and appreciated influence in your life as you grew up. But suddenly, it was all taken away.
That phone call changed everything Bella, but it taught me something too. It taught me that life can take a different turn at any second.
And, from that day onwards, our cuddles were always a little tighter.
And we held onto each other, hoping that life would once again seem a little brighter.
Love from Mummy x
*
Jessica made it home from Henny’s five minutes later, stumbling in the dark to fit her key in the lock and open the door as quietly as she could. As she walked into the hallway, she could see the light in the lounge was off, which meant Chris had already gone to bed. She picked up a foot to take off her shoe but swayed into the wall and giggled. Realising sitting down was a better tactic, she slid down the wall to the floor – and that was when she noticed a note scrawled on a piece of paper at the bottom of the stairs.
SURPRISE! I’VE GOT THE DAY OFF WORK TOMORROW!
I took the day-in-lieu I was owed, so we could all spend the day together.
I’m in the spare room so Bella and I don’t disturb you in the morning.
HAVE A LIE IN – WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU! xxx
‘Jesus,’ she said out loud, letting the words sink in. ‘But I have music class! I’ll still have to go to music class! He’s forgotten, but we can’t miss that.’
But when the hallway started to spin around the note, she decided it was time for bed. She poured herself a large glass of water in the kitchen and climbed the stairs slowly, determined not to trip and wake Bella. And after throwing her clothes into a heap on the floor and climbing under the duvet, she fell into a deep sleep in seconds, with her lashes still coated in mascara, the curtains still wide open, and the light still shining brightly on the ceiling.
She didn’t open her eyes again until 7 a.m. the next morning, and she immediately regretted it. ‘Oh fuck!’ she groaned, as light streamed through the open curtains and burnt her eyeballs. ‘That second bottle was such a bad idea.’ She lay still for a while, expecting to feel a rush of nausea or pain flood to her head. When it didn’t come, she decided to stay that way for a few minutes, lying as still as possible and hoping to fall back to sleep. But after hearing Bella chatting in her cot in the room next door, there was no way she was going to be able to drift off.
Bella’s chattering quickly turned to loud protests and she eventually heard Chris’ footsteps across the hallway to collect her, saying ‘Shh, don’t wake Mummy,’ as they made their way down the stairs.
Giving up on sleep, she opened her eyes slowly, letting them get used to the light. Heaving herself out of bed, she pulled the curtains shut and turned off the light above her head quickly, exhaling with the relief that came with darkness. Once back in bed, she picked up her phone from her bedside table and clicked onto social media. And there was the post, complete with a cheesy grin and flushed cheeks from a bit too much champagne.
Jessica cringed as she studied the picture and read the accompanying words. ‘Why didn’t I wait until I was sober?’ she thought, continuing to scroll down the page. But her embarrassment turned to shock as she clapped eyes on ‘1.5K Likes’ written underneath the post.
‘OH. MY. GOD!’ she said out loud, scanning her eyes on the hundreds of comments underneath:
Katie Feltmore: I don’t think it’s any exaggeration to say that I have fallen in love with your blog posts, Jessica. I have a five-month old baby and hearing your story through these beautiful letters to Bella has made it all seem a bit less scary.
Rosie Baker: VOTED! Best blog ever and very well deserved! So happy to hear they chose you as the newcomer - and I hope you go on to win it!
Janice Brown-Turner: This is the best news! I love your blog and you have my vote! Good luck!
Wendy Pullen: I have just voted for you dear. I am a grandmother now to three little pickles and your letters to Bella have bought everything back.
Caroline Louise Taylor: I never write comments on here but I had to write to say congratulations and that I’ve already clicked through to vote. I have just had my second baby and reading your letters to your daughter over the past few weeks have become the highlight of my day. Keep going and well done!
&nbs
p; Jessica read every comment, sprawled out in bed like a starfish. Self-promotion didn’t come easily to her, and as she read, she swung between blushing and smiling. Have they all clicked through to vote for me? she wondered, as her mind turned for a moment to the possibility of being invited to the awards ceremony. But as quickly as she thought about it, she forced herself to stop. She knew she had very little chance of beating the likes of Tiggy and her equally-popular fellow nominees.
Oh, Tiggy Blenheim. As much as she tried not to think about her, she found it impossible – and as soon as she popped into Jessica’s mind, her fingers worked on autopilot to click through to the other blogger’s social media page and see how her own ‘VOTE FOR ME!’ post was doing.
And there it was, pinned to the top of her page. A photo of Tiggy and her kids sitting on a white sofa, with a bottle of champagne in one hand and in the other, a sign written by a child that read: PLEASE VOTE FOR MUMMY!
Jessica continued scrolling, with the words underneath the photograph reading:
We’re celebrating in the Blenheim house today! ‘Tiggy Does Motherhood’ has been nominated to be the ‘Best Parenting Blog’ in the ‘Blog Network Awards’ for the third year in a row! And this year, we’re hoping Mummy will take the crown! We’d love your vote at this link: http://www.blognetworkawards.com.
Should I congratulate her? Jessica thought, as she read to the end of the post. It seemed unfair to carry on scrolling without saying something. Tiggy had done well to be nominated three years in a row, and Jessica could only imagine how demoralising it was to walk away without winning it.
She made a snap decision and started typing in the comment box underneath Tiggy’s post.
Congratulations Tiggy! So well-deserved and best of luck with the shortlist. Jessica (Letters from my Daughter) xx
Reading her comment back and then posting it, she threw her phone down next to her on the pillow and sighed. Her head was starting to pound, but she knew she needed to ward off the hangover by eating some breakfast. Taking a deep breath, she heaved herself out of bed, grabbed her pyjama bottoms from the back of the chair, and made her way downstairs.
‘Anyone home?’ she called, as she got to the bottom of the stairs.
‘MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA’ came a little voice, as Bella toddled towards her and threw herself with force at Jessica’s legs. She picked her up and cuddled her close, kissing hair that smelt like baby shampoo.
Chris quickly appeared from the kitchen. ‘You’re supposed to be in bed! How’s the head?’
‘Umm, not sure yet,’ Jessica said, as Bella writhed in her arms to get down. Allowing her to toddle off, she walked towards Chris and kissed him on the lips. ‘This was a nice surprise, thank you babe!’
Chris smiled, as Jessica leaned into him for a cuddle. ‘Nothing I’d rather do than spend the day with my girls,’ he said. ‘And Bella has been teaching me all about Teletubbies this morning. It’s been fun.’
‘Oh, lucky you,’ Jessica laughed, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. ‘You know I’m supposed to be at class with the girls today, don’t you?’
‘Oh shit,’ Chris said, pulling away and looking at her. ‘Do you want to go? We can always just hang out as a family this afternoon.’
‘No, I think I’ll wallow here in my pyjamas instead. I’ll message the girls and say I’m out today,’ Jessica replied. ‘Is there anything for breakfast?’
‘You’re in luck,’ Chris said, smiling. ‘Bella has just enjoyed the finest scrambled eggs and bacon – and there’s a portion left for you.’
‘My bacon is going into a sandwich,’ Jessica said cheerily, strolling into the kitchen to get started.
‘OK, honey,’ Chris said, walking into the lounge to find Bella. ‘And no need to hurry, because Bella and I are planning to head to the park soon and leave you in peace to shower and type the next award-winning blog post. So if you are sure about skipping class, you can just hang out on the sofa.’
He kept his promise, and twenty minutes later, with the crumbs from one demolished sandwich on her plate, they had left. Jessica wasn’t sure he’d taken anything for Bella to eat or drink, or wipes and nappies, but she hadn’t had the energy to get involved in the getting-ready process, soaking up the rare opportunity to relax on the sofa and watch Bella play as her daddy did all the running around.
And now it was quiet. Jessica couldn’t remember the last time she’d been left alone at home. The silence roared in her ears as she sat on the sofa and tried to muster up the enthusiasm to head upstairs to shower. When she finally managed it, she climbed the stairs slowly and grabbed her phone from the bed to check for messages.
Two stared at her from the home screen:
Fran: UMMM HELLO! 1.6K LIKES! You are so winning that award Jessy! Talk later?
Henny: How’s the head, babe? Can’t say mine feels great. School run wasn’t fun this morning! See you at class. May vomit. xx
She typed back quickly:
Hey sister. Head thumping from too much champagne last night. STOP TALKING ABOUT THE AWARD. I AM NOT GOING TO WIN. Need to chat to you about something shortly. I’ll call when I’m out the shower.
Hey Henny. Don’t hate me but I got home to discover a note from Chris saying he was taking the day off and am now home alone… I’m skipping class today and spending the day on the sofa. Say hi to the girls from me and sorry we won’t be there xx
Once she was back downstairs, showered and feeling much more human (with a hot coffee in her hand that she’d actually get to drink), she picked up her phone. Fran answered after two rings.
‘Hello, this is Fran speaking. Any top mummy bloggers on the other line?’
‘Ha, ha,’ Jessica said. ‘Enough of that. Although it’s kind of why I’m calling.’
‘Why, what’s up?’ Fran asked.
‘I’ve written a blog post about Michael,’ Jessica said, hearing Fran swallow loudly on the other end of the phone. ‘It’s a really important part of Bella’s story, but I need to make sure you’re happy with me posting it.’
‘OK,’ Fran said quietly. ‘Send it to me.’
‘Are you angry?’ Jessica asked, aware of the change in tone.
‘No, I’m touched, Jessy. Really touched.’ Fran replied.
Jessica paused. ‘I’m going to email it to you now. Let me know, OK?’
‘I’ll pour myself a large whiskey and read it,’ Fran said, laughing.
‘Make it a large coffee. And if you want me to change anything, let me know. I’ll change anything you want.’
‘Deal. Speak soon. And Jessy?’
‘Yep?’ she answered.
‘Thank you. For remembering him,’
‘How could I ever forget?’ Jessica replied, with a lump in her throat. ‘Speak later. Love you.’
‘Love you, too,’ Fran said, hanging up.
Jessica grabbed her laptop and emailed the blog post to Fran. She was worried that it would stir up feelings that Fran didn’t want to revisit, but she knew she couldn’t write the story of Bella’s first year without it.
*
It had been the morning of Tuesday 16th May 2017 when life had changed forever. Fran had just dropped twelve-year-old Freddie at school and was busying herself in the kitchen before her first client arrived (Rebecca Stirling, 10 a.m., Bikini Wax; details she’d never been able to scratch from her mind). As the kettle boiled, she had heard a knock at the front door and assumed she’d arrived early, but when she swung it open, two female police officers had been standing the other side.
‘Mrs Henderson?’ the police officer on the left had asked.
Fran would never forget the sympathy in her eyes as she searched them for clues.
She nodded, her tongue suddenly unable to move.
‘I’m sorry, but I have some bad news for you. Is anybody with you at home?’
Fran stopped breathing right there on the doorstep, as every member of her family flashed through her mind in quick succession and nausea rose quickly from th
e pit of her stomach into her mouth.
‘Can I come inside?’ the police officer had asked, taking her hand.
Fran must have nodded again, as the police officers lead her to a sofa and asked her to sit down. She didn’t know how she heard any more of the conversation, because blood roared loudly in her ears.
But she did hear it.
‘I’m so sorry to tell you that your husband, Mr Michael Henderson, was found today in his hotel room in Paris. I’m very sorry Mrs Henderson, but he didn’t have a pulse and was pronounced dead at hospital shortly afterwards. He had a heart attack. Is there anybody we can call for you? We really are very, very sorry.’
Fran couldn’t remember much more about that afternoon, but Jessica knew that she hastily packed a suitcase of clothes for herself and Freddie that same afternoon and moved back to her parents’ home, sharing a bed with Freddie until her dad cleared out his office to create a room for him a few weeks into their stay.
They hadn’t been back to that home in Dulwich ever since – so on that fateful morning, Fran had lost her partner, her home, and her business in one fell swoop. Michael was gone forever, which was catastrophic. But Jessica couldn’t help feeling that Fran was lost that morning too.
As Jessica allowed her mind to wander back to the man that Michael had been before that morning, flicking through photographs on her laptop to illustrate the blog post. And after half an hour of reminiscing, she found the perfect shot.
In the photo, Michael sat on the very same sofa she was sitting on now, holding a tiny Bella when she was only a few days old. He was smiling down at her, with Fran beside him, beaming into the camera. As Jessica studied that photo, her heart pricked and ached. The size of Bella in his arms, the look of adoration on his face, and the happiness of Fran’s smile. At the time, it was just another photo of Bella being held by a family member in a long stream of first-meetings – but in the space of one two-minute phone call, it had become so much more.
Michael had been a big man. Not chubby, but big. He was very tactile and would wrap you in the biggest bear hugs with giant arms that seemed to envelop your whole body. You could get lost in those hugs. Jessica could still shut her eyes and remember exactly how they felt. But despite his size, he was not imposing. He was warm, caring, and softly-spoken, and children especially seemed to love him.
From Mum With Love Page 11
