From Mum With Love

by Louise Emma Clarke

  Wendy Felicia Cooper writes the laugh-out-loud parenting blog Hiding in the Bathroom, where she documents the life of a stay-at-home mother of two in South East London. But despite being a great comic, you’ll read along with Wendy and think ‘ME TOO!’ – and we think that’s the measure of a fantastic blog!

  ‘Wow,’ Jessica said, as they came to the end of the text. ‘They hate me!’

  ‘Come on, Jess! It’s pretty cool to have your picture and name splashed in a national paper!’ Fran said.

  Jessica looked up at her sister and raised her eyebrows. ‘Seriously, Fran? Every other photo has a child in the shot – and I look like a total pisshead. And the words? Everyone else gets words like “fun”, “chic”, “laugh-out-loud’”, and “drips with cool’”,’ she said, trailing her finger under the words as she read. ‘And what do I get?’

  Fran shrugged.

  ‘Haemorrhoids, fat thighs, and maternity pads…’

  ‘Well, they say you’re brutally honest, which is true! Surely that’s a good thing?’ Fran said, struggling not to laugh. ‘Look, I don’t think it’s too bad, Jess! They obviously like your honesty’.

  Distracted by Jessica’s coffee arriving and Fran giving her order, they sat in silence for a few minutes staring at the paper lying open on the table.

  ‘How are you feeling about seeing Tiggy on Saturday?’ Fran asked, as they both turned their eyes to her picture on the left. ‘Honestly?’

  Jessica sighed and looked up at her sister. ‘I’ll give myself a pep talk on the night to get through it… It took me a good few days to calm down about that stupid interview, but honestly, everything that is happening with Mel has given me a huge wake-up call and it seems petty to be stressing over something another blogger said to a gossip website. She didn’t reveal my name, so it could’ve been a lot worse…’

  Fran didn’t take her eyes off her little sister, searching her face for clues. ‘Well if you’re sure,’ she said finally, ‘but I’m here if you want to sound things out.’

  ‘I know,’ Jessica replied. ‘But you’ve got enough to worry about, Franny! You don’t need to hear about blogger dramas!’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You were there whenever I bloody needed you over the last year!’

  ‘It’s hardly the same!’ Jessica said, shaking her head.

  Fran smiled at her sister. ‘All I’m going to say is that this blogging thing is going really well for you and nobody should be allowed to piss on your bonfire!’

  Jessica laughed. ‘I’ll make sure of it. To be honest, the blogging thing all feels a bit surreal now. A lady just recognised me on the street.’

  ‘What? You’re kidding?’ Fran shot back. ‘She reads your blog? And she stopped you?’

  ‘Yes, and she reads The Scoop too, so I have her to thank for informing me of this disaster…’ Jessica said, glancing down again at the paper.

  ‘Get you, Jessy!’ Fran said, raising her eyebrows. ‘My little sister is getting famous! Is it the first time you’ve been recognised?’.

  ‘Well yes, but… well…’ Jessica paused and picked up her coffee. ‘No, it’s silly.’

  ‘But what?’ Fran asked.

  ‘I’ve noticed a few people do a double-take when I’m in the park with Bella and whisper to their friends. I thought I was just being paranoid, but meeting that lady outside today… I mean, maybe I wasn’t imagining it?’

  ‘You probably weren’t, to be honest. Bloggers are like celebrities these days. I mean, think about the ones you follow – you’d recognise them if you walked past them on the street, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Well yes, of course, but… I guess you’re right. It just seems hard to believe when we’re talking about me,’ Jessica replied.

  ‘It’s not just you though, is it Jessy. You’re the writer behind “Letters to my Daughter”! I mean, how many followers do you have now?’

  ‘Nearly 40,000,’ Jessica said. ‘Last time I checked…’

  ‘OK so, I happen to know this, as the mother of a Chelsea FC fan. Do you know how many people fit inside Stamford Bridge Stadium?’

  ‘Oh God, I don’t know… I wouldn’t have any idea,’ Jessica replied.

  ‘It’s 41,000 people, Jess. Now imagine a football stadium in your mind, and imagine you are stood in the middle of the pitch. Everyone’s eyes in that stadium would be on you – and that’s what it’s like every time you write a blog post and every time you post a picture,’ Fran said, with wide eyes.

  ‘That’s insane…’ Jessica said, shaking her head.

  ‘And that’s also why we have to find the perfect dress,’ Fran added. ‘There’s going to be a lot of eyes on you when you accept the award on Saturday!’

  ‘That. Is. Not. Going. To. Happen,’ Jess said, tutting and laughing. ‘But I get your point. And I haven’t shopped for myself for a long time, so I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Too right,’ Fran replied. ‘And once we’ve found the dress, we’ll head to a pub garden to celebrate. That’s still the plan, right?’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Jessica said, nodding in agreement. ‘Mum said she might pop in to say hello quickly. They’re planning on heading to the village to have a wander this afternoon and let Bella play on the heath.’

  ‘Ah, I’d love to see her,’ Fran replied, smiling. ‘But you haven’t forgotten that this is supposed to be your day off? You’ll let Mum and Dad take her home again afterwards?’

  ‘Hell yeah,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks!’

  ‘Me, too. So let’s finish these coffees and find that dress, little sister!’ Fran replied.

  And that was exactly what they did. Once they’d drained their mugs, stashed the newspaper in Jessica’s bag, and made their way back out onto the street, they started hunting for the dress she would wear to the awards ceremony.

  Jessica already had a vision in her mind for the kind of thing that she wanted to wear. The thought of anything too short or too clingy gave her shivers of horror. It had to be knee-length, it couldn’t cling to her curves, and ideally it would cover at least the top of her arms. She didn’t really want to wear black, but she definitely didn’t want anything too bright either. She didn’t think it was going to be easy to find, which was why she’d asked Fran to help her. Naturally more confident, fashionable, and daring about what she wore, Fran would lend Jessica a shot of confidence.

  But when Fran pulled a dress entirely covered in silver sequins from the rail and held it up to Jessica, she laughed and shook her head. ‘No way!’ Jessica said. ‘I’d turn every head in the room and that is the opposite of what I want to happen!’

  ‘Fuck that! You’re the star of the show,’ Fran replied, forcing the hanger into her hand. ‘Just try it on. Just for fun. Go on, Jessy, you’ll look amazing in it.’

  ‘OK,’ Jessica said, taking the hanger. ‘But it’s just for fun! There is no way I am wearing this dress to the ball!’

  And she meant it too. She wasn’t going to wear it.

  But just seconds later, standing in front of the changing room mirror, she realised she quite liked it.

  Possibly even loved it.

  Heavy enough for the fabric to fall beautifully and flatter her figure, long enough to cover her knees, and with slightly fluted sleeves to her wrists to cover the bits of her arms she didn’t feel confident to show off, the shape was perfect. And even though the sequins naturally caught the light, the effect was far more muted than she imagined. If she paired it with black heels and a clutch bag, she’d still be in her comfort zone.

  Suddenly the changing room curtain was pulled open, and from behind it, Fran gasped.

  ‘Jesus! You look bloody amazing!’ she said, looking her sister up and down. ‘It’s the one!’

  ‘I like it,’ Jess said quietly.

  ‘You what?’ Fran replied.

  ‘I like it’ Jess repeated.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Fran shouted. ‘She bloody likes it!’

  ‘Shut up!’ Jes
s said, embarrassed by the commotion. ‘I’ll get it, OK? Just keep your voice down and clear a route to the till.’

  Just five minutes later, they were strolling in the sunshine, with Jessica clutching a paper bag containing a dress that shimmered and shined in the sunlight.

  And just forty-eight hours later, it would be her turn.

  18

  Blog subscribers – 44,031

  Emails in inbox – 146

  Event invitations – 53

  Award nominations – 1

  Award shortlists – 1

  Blogger enemies – 1

  Blogger friends – 1

  Newspaper features – 1

  Spotted by followers – 1

  Dear Bella,

  We weren’t planning on having a party at first but as the weeks ticked closer to your first birthday, I started to realise how important it was that we marked it in some way. I wanted your friends and family to make a fuss of you, to sing ‘happy birthday’ as I carried a homemade birthday cake to the table, and to see your shy smile when you realised the whole day was about you. So a decision was made to organise a small gathering at home with our closest friends and family – and it would all happen on the Saturday that fell just after your birthday. I chose a theme of rainbows, designed colourful invitations on my phone, and researched cakes and decoration ideas endlessly in the weeks beforehand. I was so excited, Bella – for you and for me.

  Because here is the thing. Before you arrived, I thought mothers made an effort for birthdays just for their child. To spoil them, I guess. To show them how much they loved them. But as we started nearing the end of your first year, I suddenly realised that it was a celebration for me too. I knew I couldn’t let that day pass without marking it in some way, even if you were too young to commit those rainbows, or that cake, or the sound of those voices singing ‘happy birthday’ to your memory forever. I realised it didn’t matter. We still had to celebrate, because it was too special. It was too big. Your birthday, yes. But my birth day too. It was the day that we met. The day that life changed forever. The day the world stopped spinning as you were placed on my chest.

  So you had a party – and despite the weather being overcast and a bit chilly (which I fear will always probably be the way with a birthday in March), it was a beautiful day. Daddy popped open bottles of prosecco, I displayed a cake that hadn’t gone remotely to plan but was still enthusiastically admired, and you were showered with kisses and love by your family and all of your friends.

  And at the end of the day, as you slept peacefully in my arms with the remnants of rainbow crumbs around your mouth, Daddy leaned towards me, kissed my forehead, and whispered ‘bloody hell, we made it!’ And as I turned towards him and smiled, not entirely sure whether he meant the day or the year, I realised that I’ve never felt more thankful that we did.

  We made it.

  And it was amazing.

  Love from Mummy x

  *

  ‘I assume we’re heading to the Princess?’ Fran asked, as the two sisters strolled together in the sunshine. It was mid-afternoon now, but the sun still felt warm on their skin.

  ‘I think it’s a good idea, don’t you?’ replied Jess. ‘It feels like the perfect afternoon for a pub garden.’

  A few minutes later, they arrived at the Princess of Wales and walked through the side gate to the garden. It was the most popular pub in Blackheath and, unsurprisingly on such a beautiful afternoon, every table was already filled. And it wasn’t just the tables, with crowds of people standing on the patio and chatting noisily, pouring glasses from large jugs, and tucking into sausages in buns from the barbecue, with sweet-smelling onions and dollops of tomato sauce.

  ‘Oh crap. Do we have a Plan B?’ Fran asked, as Jessica stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to see whether there was anything free at the back.

  ’We’re just leaving if you want to take our table?’ a smartly-dressed young man said, pointing to a picnic bench in the far corner.

  ‘Ah, thank you!’ Fran replied, not quite believing their luck. ‘That’s perfect!’

  ‘No problem,’ he said. ‘Follow me!’

  ‘We really appreciate it,’ Jessica said loudly, over the noise of the crowd as they wound their way through.

  His friends were already standing up and getting ready to leave, their table filled with four empty jugs of Pimms and glasses of discarded apple chunks and cucumber slices. ‘Wow, you’ve been busy!’ Fran said, as she glanced down at her watch and saw that it was just past 4 p.m.

  ‘We graduated this morning,’ their new friend replied, to which both the girls cheered and congratulated them. And with a couple of dramatic bows and dons of imaginary hats, they had vacated the table and were heading out of the garden, leaving the two sisters with one of the best tables in the house.

  ‘So, what do you fancy?’ Fran asked, as they sat down.

  ‘Shall we share a jug of Pimms?’ Jessica asked. ‘It seems appropriate when the sun is shining!’

  ‘Great idea. And it’s my shout, as a celebration of finding the perfect dress! Hopefully the bar won’t be too busy,’ Fran said, as she stood up and made her way inside.

  Watching her sister make her way across the garden, Jessica’s thoughts turned to Bella. It wasn’t often that she got to spend time on her own and she had to admit it felt amazing to only have to think about herself for an afternoon. She didn’t need to worry about pushing the buggy through crowds on the pavement, through narrow gaps between the rails in shops, or finding child-friendly places to eat with enough highchairs and spaces to park the buggy. She didn’t need to stash snacks in her bag, or bottles of water that were likely to leak – and there was no looming deadline of cooking Bella her dinner, running her bath, or contorting herself through the bars of the cot at bedtime. Part of her missed her daughter, of course, but most of her was enjoying every second.

  She was so deep in thought at the table that when her phone buzzed in her bag, it made her jump. She pulled it out and found a message from her Mum flashing on the home screen:

  IN BLACKHEATH. LOVELY TIME ON GRASS. BELLA IN FINE SPIRITS. ANY LUCK WITH THE DRESS. WHERE R U. WE WILL SAY HELLO.

  She typed back quickly:

  We’re in the Princess. It’s quite busy, so probably not ideal for Bella but you could pop in quickly to say hello?

  She threw her phone back in her bag – and with no sign of Fran emerging from inside the pub, she found herself with more time to think and her mind wandered back to being recognised on the street earlier in the day. She was still stunned that somebody had recognised her, and whilst it was flattering, it was unnerving too. She’d never considered that people might connect her and her blog in public before. She could be Jessica and Bella’s mummy when they were out of the house, and a blogger when she was at home, with her laptop on her knee and the front door shutting the rest of the world out. But with the lines blurred, did she need to be wary about who was watching?

  Was someone watching her now? Were they wondering who was looking after her daughter? Were they disappointed that she wasn’t taller, skinnier, or more stylish? Should she ask a member of staff to clear up the empty glasses on the table in case somebody thought she had drunk them all?

  She suddenly felt very self-conscious and as a waitress walked past with an empty tray in her hand, she caught her eye and smiled.

  ‘Would you mind clearing a few of the empties away?’ Jessica asked. ‘It wasn’t us, I promise! We just sat down.’

  ‘No worries at all,’ she replied laughing, piling the empty glasses onto her tray. ‘I’d be impressed if it was you! I’ll be back for the jugs in a moment!’

  ‘Thank you!’ Jessica replied laughing, glancing around the garden and realising that nearly everybody else was student age. None of these people had babies! None of them would be interested in her blog! She relaxed and turned her face to the sunshine, enjoying the feeling on her skin. Moments later, Fran arrived back at the table with the jug and two glass
es.

  ‘You took a while,’ Jessica said, as she picked up the jug to pour.

  ‘Yes, I got chatting to an old friend at the bar. Do you remember Kerry Matthews? You were probably too young actually, but I used to play netball with her and have bumped into her every now and again through the years. She’s lovely, you should meet her! We were chatting about your blog. It turns out she’s a reader!’

  Jessica swallowed and blushed. ‘OK, that’s enough publicity for one day,’ she said, raising her hands in the air. ‘It’s all too weird! Let’s drink while we can. I’ve already had word that the parents may be in the area!’

  Fran laughed and picked up her glass. ‘To the dress!’ she said, clinking her glass against Jessica’s.

  ‘To the dress!’ Jessica replied smiling.

  But they’d barely got to the bottom of that first glass before her parents appeared at the entrance to the garden with Bella strapped into her buggy.

  ‘COOOOO-EEEEE,’ her mother called over, waving wildly to get their attention.

  ‘Oh God, here we go,’ Fran said, laughing. ‘How the hell is she going to push that buggy through those people!’

  ‘I don’t think I can even watch,’ Jessica replied, putting her head in her hands.’

  ‘COOOOOO-EEEEEEE,’ her mum called again, starting her mission to head over. ‘Excuse me! Sorry! Excuse me? So sorry! So sorry, could you move slightly? Oh, terribly sorry! I’m trying to get through to my daughters in the corner! Sorry! Oops sorry! Terribly sorry! Could you move to the right slightly? So sorry! You’ll have to move your chair for me to get through! So sorry! My fault! Very sorry!’

  As Fran and Jessica watched with horror, their dad trailed behind looking embarrassed and apologising profusely to everyone that moved out of the way – and thanks to her mother’s effective technique of steaming ahead regardless, they arrived at the table within about a minute.

  ‘MA-MA-MA-MA!’ Bella called, as they approached.

  ‘Oh, hi baby girl! Have you been good?’ Jessica said, unclipping her straps and scooping her out of the buggy.