The Undercover Mother_A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy about love, friendship and parenting

by Emma Robinson

  And wife. If Naomi and John were on the verge of splitting up and were still managing bedroom gymnastics, what did it say about Jenny and Dan’s relationship? She’d been neglecting him, too. Once, a friend of hers had said she and her husband hadn’t had sex in two years and Jenny had been shocked. Now she could see how easily that might happen.

  It was difficult to have sex in bed at night. Not only was she exhausted by then, but Henry was sleeping in their room and it just didn’t feel right. Morning sex was out because Dan left for work so early. In the whole work/life/baby juggling act, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d even sat down and had a cuddle.

  Time for some action.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When they gave me that ‘Post C-Section’ leaflet at the hospital, I didn’t even bother to read the paragraph entitled ‘Resuming your sex life’ because at that time I felt as interested in solo space travel as I did in horizontal jogging.

  Now it’s difficult to find the time to do it. There are no more lazy mornings in bed at the weekend, no more drunken nights out, for fear of the hellish combination of hangover and crying baby. Even quiet nights at home with a takeaway and a bottle of wine are interrupted by unscheduled wake ups or a dirty nappy. Nothing kills the romance like a packet of yellow poo.

  Maybe it’s because Sporty is younger than the rest of us that her sex life seems to have bounced back into action as quickly as her body. Posh maintains that having sex is like doing the ironing. You really can’t face it but, once you get the board out, it’s not as bad as you thought…

  From ‘The Undercover Mother’

  * * *

  The lounge floor was completely clear and there were no piles of washing to be seen on either of the sofas. Music played quietly in the background and Henry was asleep in his cot. After a long shower, Jenny had dressed in the only slinky nightdress she could find that still fit. When Dan came through the front door, she was standing in the hallway with two glasses of wine. Ready for action.

  ‘Get your clothes off.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Get your clothes off – I want to have sex.’

  Dan looked at her suspiciously. ‘What’s happened?’

  Jenny rolled her eyes. ‘Nothing has happened. Henry is asleep. We need to have sex now, before he wakes up.’ She narrowed her gaze. ‘Don’t you want to have sex with me?’

  Dan’s suspicion seemed to change to mild fear. ‘Of course I do, but I’ve just got in. Anyway, are you going to be okay, you know, after the Caesarean?’

  Jenny was starting to feel silly. ‘I’ll be fine. Come on, we need to do it now.’ She gestured impatiently towards the living room.

  Dan looked in confusion to where she was motioning. ‘In there?’

  ‘Yes, in there. Henry is asleep in our room.’ She sighed. ‘It’s our sofa. It’s not like I’m suggesting we do it on the front lawn.’ What had happened to the days when they would fall through the front door and have sex on the stairs because they couldn’t wait to make it to the bedroom?

  Dan followed her into the lounge, taking his shoes off as he walked. He sat down next to her and kissed her. Jenny wanted to laugh; it was almost like they’d never done this before.

  Now he was over the surprise, Dan seemed quite keen. ‘I remember you,’ he whispered.

  It did feel good to be together like this. Concentrating on each other, touching each other, not merely passing on updates about nappy changes and feed times. Weirdly, she felt a little emotional. Like she had returned home after a long trip away.

  Dan slipped his hand under her robe and onto her body. Sharply, he pulled his hand back. ‘You’re leaking!’

  She could feel the milk running down her chest and onto her stomach. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation. ‘Bugger! I’ll have to put my bra back on.’ She ran upstairs to get her nursing bra and a couple of breast pads. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way back, she wished she had been able to fit into her pretty underwear.

  By the time she got back to the lounge, Dan had switched on the TV. He reached for the remote to turn it off but, by then, the moment had passed. A wave of exhaustion hit her and she yawned. Dan kissed her on the cheek. ‘Are you sure you’re ready for this? We don’t have to rush it, you know.’

  Jenny closed her eyes and lay back on the sofa. ‘We do, though. We need to get back to normal. We used to have sex all the time.’

  Dan put his arm around her and pulled her close. ‘We weren’t enslaved by the mini-tyrant upstairs in those days.’

  All the rushing around, tidying up and force-feeding Henry so that he’d stay asleep had been for nothing. Jenny wanted to cry. Were they never going to have sex again? Watching her writhe on the hospital bed with her bottom sticking out couldn’t have been the sexiest thing Dan had ever seen, but had it really turned him off her for ever?

  ‘You don’t seem bothered about this. Why aren’t you bothered?’

  Dan kissed the top of her head. ‘I just accept that things are different now – at least for a while. I expected things to change.’

  Jenny sat up. It was easy for him to talk about change. What had actually changed for him? ‘You don’t understand what it’s like. It’s different for me. I’m fighting to keep my job, my body feels ruined and I haven’t had a night out in weeks. You get to be a dad and keep your career. It’s easy for you.’

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jenny wanted to claw them back in. She had never seen her husband lose his temper. She had a feeling she might be about to.

  ‘And I don’t think that you understand that there are people who go to work every day and hardly ever see their child during the week. One of them even lives in this house. I go out at 7 a.m. and return at 7 p.m. If I’m lucky, I get to see Henry for twenty minutes a day. Other than that, I get picture messages showing me all the things I miss out on. No one gets to have everything, Jen. No one. I am trying to support you whether you go back to work, stay at home, write a column, write a blog – whatever you want to do. But you need to stop assuming that you’re the only one who has to make sacrifices.’

  He was right. She was being selfish. Something else to feel guilty about. ‘I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just liked our life the way it was.’

  Dan let out a long breath and then took her hand. ‘So did I, Jen. But our new life will be great, too. We just need to work it out.’

  Jenny wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  After dinner, Jenny found her laptop and started to look for local baby groups. There were hundreds. Baby Gym, Baby Sensory, Baby Algebra. Well, maybe not the last one but, seriously? Maybe she should start with something a bit more manageable. The local church hall had a mother and baby group. She would try that. How bad could it be?

  Dan turned one eye to her. ‘How’s the blog going?’

  ‘Good. When I get a chance to write it. I’m not sure how keen Eva is on it, though. It’s going to take a lot of persuading to get it into the magazine.’

  ‘Have you given her your black book yet?’

  Jenny had bought a new one and was transferring some of the names and numbers across. ‘Not yet.’ She tapped away at the keyboard for a few more moments. ‘I have a couple of weeks till I’m next in. I’ll get it done by then.’

  * * *

  Having never been known for her punctuality, Jenny wasn’t sure whether her colleagues were more surprised by the fact that she was at the editorial meeting or the fact that she was the first one to arrive.

  It was good to be back in the office, if a little strange. A bit like visiting an old school or a childhood holiday resort. The sounds and smells were familiar but she didn’t feel quite part of it. She couldn’t even sit at her old desk because it seemed to have been organised to within an inch of its life into a pink in-tray and coordinating box files. A nauseating framed photo of perfect people stuck to the top of the computer screen confirmed what she’d suspected: Lucy had her desk, too.

  A
t least Maureen didn’t change. ‘Jenny! How lovely to see you. Where’s that beautiful boy?’

  ‘At home with Daddy. Dan has the day off.’ Jenny kissed her. ‘Eva not in yet?’

  ‘She had a breakfast meeting with one of the advertisers, she’ll be in soon. I’m following your blog!’ Maureen announced proudly.

  Jenny grinned. ‘Are you? What do you think?’

  ‘I love it! Those women you’re writing about – they’re a mixed bag, aren’t they? I told Eva how good I think it is.’

  ‘Thanks!’ Jenny hugged her. ‘And thanks for telling Eva. I’m not sure she’s convinced it will work.’

  ‘Then you need to show her.’ Maureen patted her hand, then looked up. ‘Oh, my word, look who else is here early. I’d best get the kettle on. Morning, Brian. Coffee?’

  ‘Yes please, Mo.’ Brian turned to Jenny. ‘Hello, stranger. What are you doing here? I thought you’d left?’

  The butterflies in Jenny’s stomach went crazy. Why would he think she’d left? Hadn’t Eva told them what she was doing? ‘I’m pretty surprised to see you here at this time, too. Since when did you get in before Eva?’

  The photographer was his usual dishevelled self. He rubbed the top of his head and looked sheepish. ‘I didn’t stay at home last night.’

  It had been a long time since Jenny had done the walk of shame, but she remembered it well. ‘Lucky you. I won’t ask for details. How are things here?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Haven’t you been told about the new column I’m writing?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, the one about babies. I didn’t know if that was a joke.’

  A joke? But Brian was grinning. He was teasing her. Jenny smiled. ‘You should have a look at it. I know you like pictures, but you can read, right?

  Brian laughed. ‘Yeah. When I have to. Eva not here yet?’

  ‘Breakfast meeting, apparently.’ Jenny tried to sound nonchalant as she asked, ‘How’s Lucy getting on with my column?’

  ‘Lucy? She’s brilliant. And she has a ton of good-looking friends.’ Brian gave a thumbs-up sign. ‘She’s much better than you at hooking me up.’

  Jenny wasn’t going to bite a second time. ‘That’s because my friends have taste.’

  Brian looked up. ‘Speak of the devil.’

  ‘Jenny.’ Lucy stalked towards them. ‘I didn’t know you were coming in. Dare I hope you’re here to deliver the contacts book?’

  ‘I’ve come in for the editorial meeting, actually. But, yes, I have my contacts book for you.’ She neglected to mention that this was a censored version. She groped around in her bag and handed over the book, resisting the temptation to hold it just out of Lucy’s reach. ‘I’ll catch up with you both in a minute. I’m just going to help Maureen with the drinks.’

  * * *

  The rest of the staff writers arrived in dribs and drabs and were similarly surprised to see Jenny there, until Eva swept in and they followed her into her office.

  ‘Great to have you here, Jen,’ she said, before launching straight into business. ‘Going around the table. What have we got for next month’s issue?’

  Everyone gave in their story ideas, which were either accepted, rejected or tweaked to Eva’s satisfaction. Lucy gushed about a new bar opening in town that was going to run singles nights on a Thursday. Jenny resisted the urge to tell her that the guy opening the bar was a complete letch who already had a string of failed ventures behind him. His was one of the names she had copied into the book she was giving Lucy. Let her find out for herself.

  Finally, it was Jenny’s turn. ‘Okay. The Undercover Mother is going really well – I have about 6,000 followers now and it’s growing daily. I’m getting a good idea of which stories work well and which don’t. By the time I come back, we should be good to go.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Eva. ‘So, what exciting topics do you have in the pipeline?’

  In her peripheral vision, Jenny could see a smirk spreading across Lucy’s face.

  How she wanted to wipe it off. And she’d just thought how to do it.

  ‘Actually, I am going to dispel the myth that mums can’t have a social life.’ She turned to Lucy. ‘I can accompany Lucy to one of her events. Give her the benefit of my experience at the same time.’

  * * *

  Jenny was regretting her rash comment before she even got home and told Dan about it. What had she been thinking? The last thing she wanted was a night out in a bar; especially with Luscious Lucy.

  Predictably, Dan laughed when she told him. ‘How are you going to stay awake long enough to go out?’

  Despite her strict instructions that Henry was not quite ready for solid food, Dan had seated him in his Bumbo, where he was happily mashing a banana between his fingers. Jenny grabbed a wet wipe and started to clean Henry’s fingers, much to his annoyance.

  ‘Just because I have a baby, it doesn’t mean I can’t still go out and enjoy myself.’ She bent down to kiss Henry’s now-clean face and was rewarded with a chunk of banana wiped into her hair.

  ‘In theory, you have every right to a night on the town,’ Dan agreed. ‘In reality, you’re snoring on the sofa before the nine o’clock film is through the opening credits. What time are you planning on meeting her?’

  ‘Ten o’clock,’ Jenny mumbled.

  Dan snorted. ‘And were you planning on going in your pyjamas?’

  Flip. What to wear was another problem. The shopping trip with Antonia hadn’t included ‘going out’ clothes, and Jenny had no idea which pre-pregnancy outfits still fitted her. Or even if they were still in fashion.

  ‘You think I’m not up to it any more, don’t you?’ she challenged Dan, not about to admit that she herself was uncertain she was still up to it.

  Dan kissed her on the cheek before picking Henry up and walking into the other room with him. ‘Of course you are, my sweet. You might want to have an afternoon nap, though.’

  Jenny pulled out another couple of wet wipes and gave the Bumbo a cursory once-over. The banana gave up easily so she turned her attention to the more stubborn baked bean juice welded to the corner of the hob. Rubbing harder and harder, she imagined it was Lucy’s face.

  She’d show them she could still have a night out on the town and be able to look after a baby. It was three hours in a bar, for goodness’ sake; not reporting from a war-torn country. She’d been doing it for years.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When I told Mr Baby that I am concerned about our complete lack of a social life, he guffawed rudely and reminded me that I’d fallen asleep at twenty past nine last night.

  Posh and Mr Posh already go out all the time; she even complains that it’s too often. Since their ‘post-birth bonding period’, Sporty hasn’t mentioned a romantic night out with Mr Sporty, and I assume that’s because it would entail her actually putting Baby Sporty down. And who knows what goes on with Scary and the Secret Dad.

  I’ve toyed with the idea of a girl’s night out with the Spice Mums. But would we actually have anything to say to one another if the babies weren’t there?...

  From ‘The Undercover Mother’

  * * *

  Choosing what to wear had been a mission. Antonia had come over to help her and had even loaned her a pair of sparkly shoes; Jenny was hoping they would distract people from her large backside. The only part of her outfit she was happy with was her bag; it was small and contained nothing but money, keys and mobile. If she could only shake off this feeling that she had forgotten something.

  As the cab drew up outside Chequers, her butterflies got worse. This was madness. She had spent half her life in this place for the last five years. What was she worried about? She paid the cab driver, sucked in her stomach and walked inside.

  ‘Jenny. You came.’ Lucy made no effort to hide her disappointment, which helped to cheer Jenny a little. Lucy led the way to a small table at the back of the bar where three blonde women were sitting drinking cocktails. ‘This is Mia, Tia and Pia.’ Okay, so those aren’t their names, but they
might as well be. They look like backing singers from the Barbie Band. ‘They’re my “crew”.’ Lucy made inverted commas signs with her fingers.

  Jenny didn’t appreciate her mocking tone.

  ‘It’s so great to meet you!’ said Tia. Or was that Mia? ‘How is your baby? I think babies are so cute!’ The others murmured agreement.

  ‘Er, yes. He’s great, thanks. He just turned four months.’

  ‘It must be lovely being at home all week,’ said Pia (Mia?) wistfully. ‘I’d love not having to get up to an alarm clock every morning.’

  ‘Yeah, would be good, wouldn’t it?’ Jenny was bored of this already. ‘Unfortunately, though, babies are very similar to alarm clocks. Except you don’t choose what time to set them and they don’t have a snooze button.’

  ‘Still, all that time to do what you want. You could start a hobby. Like…’ Lucy waved her hand around, pretending to try to think of something. ‘Like writing a blog.’

  Jenny narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t going to give Lucy the benefit of a scathing comment. Even if she could think of one. ‘No time for hobbies. Babies take up a lot of time.’

  ‘Really?’ Lucy looked as if she didn’t believe her. ‘But doesn’t it… sorry, I mean “he”, just lie there most of the time?’

  The other three women looked at Jenny expectantly. Suddenly, she had a yearning for the couch at home. ‘Sorry. I just need to go to the toilet. I’ll be right back.’

  * * *

  The toilet door deadened the noise from the bar. When did they decide to make the music in this place so loud? Jenny checked her mobile for messages from Dan and sent an ‘Everything okay?’ text. Being here felt wrong. Why had she come? Was she going to challenge Lucy to an arm wrestle for her job? Maybe she should just have a couple of drinks, show her face around a bit and then slink off early. Leave them wanting more.