*
Jessica was walking back over the river before she let the tears fall. She was half-expecting somebody to chase after her, but it hadn’t happened – and while that would have gone some way towards soothing her bruised ego, she was thankful that she was alone. She had never felt more humiliated and as she pushed the buggy as fast as she could down the pavement, on a mission to get as far away from Borough Market as possible, she didn’t even try and hide the heavy, angry tears rolling down her cheeks.
Pausing to cross the road at the end of London Bridge, she reached into her bag to check her phone. A message was staring back at her.
Chris: How did launch go? Got meeting close to Cannon Street at 1pm. Want to meet for an early lunch in area? Let me know when done.
Jessica clicked on his name in seconds and two rings later, he was on the other end of the phone.
‘Hi honey. All OK?’ he said as he picked up.
‘Where are you?’ she asked, her voice breaking.
‘You OK?’ he asked. ‘What’s up?’
‘Yep. Well no. It was awful,’ she said. ‘Where are you?’
‘The launch was awful?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Well, no. Well, yes,’ she said, before adding: ‘Sorry, I’m a mess. Just tell me where and when to meet you.’
‘I’m at work, honey. I’ll leave now and be there in ten minutes. Meet you at Xanthe’s on Cannon Street? It’ll be good for Bella.’
‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘See you then.’
Just five minutes later, she was inside the café. They had beaten the lunchtime rush and she quickly found a table, parking the buggy in a space alongside and nodding when a waitress asked if she’d like a high chair.
Around her, two men in suits were sat chatting at a table, while a lady sat alone typing on a laptop on another. She’d usually worry about heading into a café with a child in this part of town in fear of disturbing business meetings, but today was different. Today, Bella could dance on the table, throw a plate of pasta across the room, and scream so loudly the wine glasses lined up on a shelf cracked one by one and Jessica still wouldn’t care. Today, if anyone even dared to tut or raise an eyebrow, she’d happily challenge them to a duel on the pavement outside.
As she gritted her teeth and tried to calm her breathing, she went through the motions of motherhood. She lifted Bella into the highchair, strapped her up, and delved into her bag for snacks that hadn’t yet been eaten. Her hand came out covered in something ominously sticky – usually she’d be revolted by that. But today, she couldn’t care less and simply pulled a wipe from the packet, cleaned off the goo, and ripped open the pack of rice cakes she’d discovered to keep Bella happy.
Once she’d handed them over, she sat at the table deep in thought, hearing Tiggy’s voice over and over again in her head.
‘Sorry. I don’t remember you.’
‘Sorry. I don’t remember you.’
‘Sorry. I don’t remember you.’
Now that she was sitting at that café table, different responses were playing on a loop in her mind.
‘Well, that’s strange Tiggy, because you sent me a message last weekend! Would you like me to show you on my phone to remind you?’
‘Oh, don’t be silly Tiggy, of course you remember me! I was the little sister of one of your best friends! You remember Fran, don’t you? Of course you do!’
‘Remember babysitting me when I was a child? Remember that, Tiggy? Surely you do? I only reminded you a few weeks ago!’
How she wished she’d had the presence of mind to challenge her! To remind her about the years they’d spent as next-door neighbours. To ask her if she’d had a chance to look at her blog, after the message she’d sent a few weeks beforehand. To introduce her to Bella, despite her clear disinterest.
Before long, Chris strode into the café. On a normal day, Jessica would’ve felt flutters of pride. Dressed in a perfectly cut, dark grey suit, clutching the tan leather laptop case she’d bought him for Christmas, he cut a very stylish figure.
In fact, Jessica would usually be the first person to turn when he walked into a room, especially when he was suited and booted. But as she sat biting her fingernails at the table, distracted by her own thoughts, it was Bella who spotted him first.
‘DADADADADA!’ she said, as she threw her rice cake across the café in excitement.
His lips curled into a smile as he spotted them, and reaching the table, he kissed Jessica on the back of the head.
‘My girls in the big city!’ he said, as she turned to him. And that’s when he spotted the tears.
‘Shit, honey, why are you crying? What happened?’ He was searching her face for clues, while Bella banged the tray of her highchair in excitement. Walking to her, he stroked her head and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Hello baby girl, what’s happened? Talk to me, Jess!’
‘I’ve just been through the most humiliating experience of my life,’ she said, as tears welled in her eyes again. She blinked quickly to clear them, determined not to dissolve into sobs in public.
‘What the hell happened?’ he asked, sitting down at the table. ‘Do you want a coffee? I’m going to get a coffee,’ he said, turning to the waitress stood behind him by the counter and signalling. After ordering two black coffees, he turned back to his wife. ‘So, talk me through it. What happened just now?’
Jessica ripped the top off two sachets of sugar and carefully stirred them into her mug with a teaspoon, inhaling the scent of the coffee as she took a deep breath. She slowly exhaled and began her story.
‘And she just looked at me, with no emotion whatsoever, and said “Sorry. I don’t remember you.”’
Jessica picked up her mug and drank, surprised by the heat of the coffee as it scalded her lips.
Chris pursed his lips and sighed. ‘Well, that’s pretty nasty.’
‘Nasty?’ Jessica quipped back, looking up at him.
‘Yes. Don’t you think so?’ Chris looked puzzled.
‘Well it’s a bit more than “nasty”, isn’t it, Chris? I mean, it’s humiliating, it’s rude, it’s actually pretty soul destroying when you’ve dragged your toddler to London on a packed train with everyone shoved in like bloody sardines, walked across the city, stood around looking at some shitty baby food pouches, and met another blogger that you actually really liked. And then this top blogger, who everyone respects – and who you happen to know from childhood – walks in and the whole room turns in her direction. And when you have the audacity to join her and, God forbid, even speak to her, she dismisses you like that. And why? Clearly for no other reason than to make me feel like shit. Maybe it’s because she wants me to stop blogging and back out of the awards. Maybe it’s because she’s scared I’ll reveal her humble roots to the world. Or maybe she just thinks I’m so unimportant and so insignificant that I needed to be brought down a peg or two. I don’t know Chris, but seriously, it’s a bit more than “nasty” isn’t it?’ she said, struggling to control the volume of her voice as it cracked with emotion.
‘Calm down, Jess,’ he said, ‘I didn’t mean…’
‘Calm down?’ she cut in.
‘Yes, Jess, it’s not my fault. I’m not Tiggy! Don’t take it out on me!’ Bella started to shriek, so Chris quickly reached for the packet of rice cakes and gave her another one. ‘Do you want to eat? We should order something for Bella.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ she said, turning her face away.
‘Oh, come on, Jess. Yes, I agree. She was a bitch. She embarrassed you. But this isn’t you!’ he said, picking up the menu from the middle of the table and scanning down as he spoke.
‘This isn’t me?’ she repeated slowly, spitting her words.
‘No! You’ve never cared what people like Tiggy think about you! You’re confident! You’ve got sass! You aren’t the girl that cries in a café over something a complete stranger has said to you!’
‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this! I thought you’d be the first one to stick u
p for me!’ she replied, her words broken with tears. ‘And she’s not a stranger! I knew her as a child!’
‘Jess, don’t cry!’ he said, cupping her head in his hands and trying to kiss her forehead.
‘Get the fuck off! Seriously! I’ve had enough. I’ve had the shittiest day…’ she said, trying her hardest to hide her tears, aware that the girl typing on her laptop was now staring in their direction.
‘Jessica, please! I love you! I have your back! I support you! But I’m worried that the blogging has made your confidence hit rock bottom, when really it should be doing the opposite! This isn’t like you!’ he said, as he signalled to the waitress again and quickly ordered Bella a plate of kids’ macaroni cheese and himself a chicken panini.
‘You encouraged me to start this blog, Chris! And I have done nothing wrong! I’ve tried my best. I’ve written blog posts that have done really well. I’ve been nominated for an award that I didn’t ask to be nominated for, and now I seem to be on the receiving end of a witch-hunt!’ she replied angrily.
‘Well, it’s not a witch-hunt, is it! She clearly needs work on her manners, but she’s hardly started a witch-hunt!’ Chris was smiling, which Jessica found infuriating.
‘Oh, so you’re on Team Tiggy now? Well why don’t you just run off into the sunset with her and her seventeen children? You’d look great together,’ she spat back. She knew she was being ridiculous now, but she couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. Chris was the one person she expected to be on her side, always, and hearing him defend Tiggy was too much.
Chris smirked. ‘Let’s forget it. Can we forget it? I’m not on Team Tiggy. I’m obviously on Team Jessica. And if I ever come face to face with her, I will tell her what I think. But in the meantime, can we not let her ruin our day?’
Jessica sighed and sipped her coffee. ‘Fuck. Why is this coffee so hot? I’m going to need a skin graft on my lips at the end of this.’
Chris laughed and passed her a napkin to wipe her tears. ‘Honestly honey, I’m sorry about what happened this morning. I’m sorry it was such a waste of time and she embarrassed you like that, but don’t let her words upset you like this. She obviously just feels threatened – and that has to be a good thing. I bet you beat her to that award.’
‘Well, that’s doubtful,’ Jessica said, blowing her nose. ‘But I would enjoy every second if I did.’
‘Will you have half of my panini?’ he asked, spotting the waitress carrying over their two plates. ‘Come on, eat something.’
Jessica watched as Chris cut the sandwich in half and passed half to her on a napkin. She ate it slowly, pushing the food around in her mouth for a while before swallowing. She knew she needed to eat, because she felt weak and shaky, but she’d left her appetite in Borough Market, somewhere near to her dignity.
After Bella had eaten some of her lunch and smeared the other half over her highchair and the floor, Chris looked at his watch and announced it was time to get off to his meeting. Jessica kissed him, still not having totally forgiven him, and asked for the bill. And within a few minutes, they were back on the platform at Cannon Street waiting for their train.
Thankfully, they had a whole carriage to themselves on the return leg and that was lucky, as the risk of head-butting a stranger’s crotch would have definitely thrown Jessica over the edge that lunchtime.
She had made no plans for the afternoon, but Bella was happy toddling around at home, delighted to be released from the clutches of her buggy. Jessica, on the other hand, spent most of her afternoon tapping away on her phone, filling in the girls and her sister on the events of the morning. She didn’t have the energy or emotional stability to talk to anyone, but she must have broken the one-hundred-message mark by the end of the day (most of them filled with expletives), as her friends and sister surrounded her in the hug (albeit virtual) that she’d been hoping for when she met her husband just hours earlier.
Henny: There’s more to this. Something is going on here. Why would she say that? Something must’ve happened in the past. It doesn’t make any sense!
Mel: I don’t think so, I just think she hates the fact Jessica started a blog and was nominated for the same award as her within months! She’s threatened by you. You should be flattered.
Jessica: Flattered? I’m struggling with that one…
Deena: What can we do? I vote we track her down and make her apologise?
Jess: That’s the very last thing I want to do. I want to run in the opposite direction, if I’m honest.
And then there was Fran.
Fran: She was always pretty confident and ballsy, but she wasn’t rude.
Jessica: Well, she was today.
Fran: Do you want me to message or call her? We haven’t spoken for years, but I’d like to think she’d answer the phone.
Jessica: No. Fran, please. Let’s just leave it.
Throwing her phone onto the sofa, she made her way into the kitchen to switch the oven on and start Bella’s dinner.
So, when her phone beeped with a message, she didn’t see it. She was too busy throwing fish fingers and smiley-faced potatoes on a tray (freezer tapas was all she was capable of today). If she had seen that message as it pinged through, however, she’d have seen that it was from her fellow blogger Wendy and that it read:
Hi Jessica, I wanted to send you this picture of Addie and Bella from earlier. How cute do they look as tigers! Sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. Tell me it’s none of my business if you like, but I have a feeling I know why Tiggy was so rude to you. Do you fancy meeting soon for a chat so I can share my thoughts? And good luck with the shortlist next week. I reckon you’ve got it! Wendy &cepha_unknown_entity_wingdings_F04A; (PS - I grabbed your goody bag when I left, so you can thank me for the 10 pouches of baby food when we meet. There’s a shopping voucher in there too, so I’ll try my best not to spend it!)
And when she finally saw it at 7.30 p.m. that evening, she didn’t hesitate to bash back a reply:
Thank you so much for your message Wendy. It was very strange with Tiggy and I’d love to chat. Yes to wine. You can keep the baby food (you’re welcome) but I’ll reserve judgement on the shopping voucher until I see it. When are we meeting? Jessica x
And as she sent it, she felt her spirits lift. Maybe she did have a friend in blogging, after all. And on that note, she grabbed her laptop and notebook from the dining room table and settled down on the sofa. She had a letter to type up and publish, and not even a disastrous first foray into the world of blogging events was going to put her off.
12
Followers – 15,794
Emails in inbox – 21
Event invitations – 33
Paid collaborations – 1
Award nominations – 1
Blogger enemies – 1
Blogger friends – 1
Dear Bella,
I knew that I needed to find a new group of friends.
I knew that it would make my days easier and more enjoyable.
I knew that I needed to find a better support network, so that I didn’t keep pulling Daddy away from his desk whenever I was worried about the strange colour of your poo.
I knew that you needed friends your own age.
I knew all of this – but the thought of getting out there and making it happen was so much harder than I expected.
It felt like dating all over again, and as the weeks and months ticked on, it played on my mind more than ever.
But one Wednesday morning in July, with the sun shining and a decent night’s sleep spurring me on, I finally plucked up the courage to try, and by 9.30 a.m., I was on my way to a coffee morning arranged by the local baby clinic. It was the same place I went to strip you off and listen to you scream as you were plonked on a scale to be weighed (not the highlight of my fortnight, it has to be said). The coffee morning was in a different room from the torture room, I was assured, and there would be soft mats to lie you on and sensory lights, bubbles, and music to keep yo
u entertained. And given that you were still only four months old and unable to escape my clutches, you’d hopefully allow me to get to the bottom of my cup of coffee, so I could make some small talk with the other mothers and possibly, if I was lucky, bag myself a friend.
But as I strolled into the room – late, which was true to form, but admittedly pretty unhelpful in scenarios like this – I immediately wished I could turn and run back out of it again. There were about six or seven other mothers there that day, with children of varying ages. Most were very little babies, curled in arms as they fed from a boob or bottle, with a few older children toddling around the room. Every single one of them was already involved in a conversation, and while a few turned and smiled kindly as I walked in the room (‘good start,’ I thought), nobody invited me to join them (‘what the hell do I do now?’).
With you in my arms, I stood, for a moment, like a lemon by the door, frozen to the spot. Glancing around in desperation, I noticed a lady pouring mugs of coffee on the other side of the room. Coffee had been my saviour for a while, so I trotted over to her smiling. ‘Ah, can I take one of those?’ I said, as I smiled at her (my lip twitching with the nerves). ‘Of course you can! Is it your first time here?’ she asked. ‘Yes!’ I said, giving her a grimace-smile. ‘Do you work here?’ ‘Yes’, she said ‘I’m one of the health visitors.’ So, for the next 45 minutes, I threw question after question her way to avoid the awkwardness of trying to butt into a conversation with the other mothers. We started with a discussion about breastfeeding (I knew that would keep her talking for a while), before moving onto a very thorough discussion about weaning (which she was extremely passionate about, giving me the chance to sit back and swig my coffee for a bit).
Time ticked on, and the other mothers in the room stood up one by one, strapping babies into carriers on their front and wandering over to say goodbye to my new buddy. And as each of them walked out of the room, I watched my chances to find a friend disappear with them. ‘I’d better go too, I guess,’ I said, as I knocked back the now-cold dregs of my mug and scooped you into my arms from your spot on the floor where you were happily studying your toes.
From Mum With Love Page 14
