by Carmen Reid
But she washed her face, brushed her hair, put on lipstick and felt surprisingly better. OK, sod the housework, the most important item on the agenda was finding a nanny. In the sitting room, she found the phone book and began dialling.
Several phone calls later, she was totally disheartened again. Everyone she had spoken to had been appalled she’d left it so late. She basically wanted a nanny who could start in two weeks’ time. All said they would put her on their lists, but could promise nothing.
She punched in another number.
Instead of a deep sigh in response to her request, a slightly more human-sounding woman said, ‘Oh dear, has someone let you down?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ Bella fibbed.
‘You poor thing, it’s so awful when that happens. Luckily for you, we prefer to keep a waiting list of nannies rather than mummies. Do you need someone this week?’
‘Well, no, the start date would be in two weeks’ time. I go back in three weeks’ time, but obviously I want to find the right person.’
‘Of course. We’ve only got one girl experienced with babies ready to start at the moment, but let me tell you all about her and we’ll arrange a meeting.’
Bella felt a wave of relief and anxiety pass over her. OK, she might be able to solve the nanny problem after all but that meant she really could be going back to work in just three weeks.
She thought about her little son sucking contentedly at her breast and felt an overwhelming sadness at the thought of giving him up. Her eyes were pricking, Christ, she was not going to allow herself to cry again. Heading back down to the kitchen, she tried to keep Maddie’s words in her mind. She would go back with an open mind and see how it went. If she had to change her plans, so be it.
Chapter Thirty-one
BELLA WAS DIMLY aware of the alarm in her dream for a long time before she managed to drag herself back to the surface and open her eyes. Her sleep was so fractured now, every nap led to the deepest, most complicated dream sequence.
Don had taken Markie downstairs after his 6 a.m. feed to allow her to sleep in until eight. But now she had to get up and get ready. Today was nanny interview day.
After she’d washed and leaned over the top of the stairs to make sure she couldn’t hear frantic howling, she came back to the bedroom. The usual problem of what to wear loomed large today. It had only occurred to Bella this morning that this wasn’t just about her liking the nanny: the nanny had to like her too.
She opened her wardrobe but closed it in despair after a few moments and tried Don’s. There she found a white shirt, which did at least button up over her chest, and a pair of camel-coloured jeans. She pulled them on, rolled up the bottoms and looked at herself in the mirror. Frumpy but not hideous, it would have to do.
She added earrings, her diamond pendant, lipstick and even a squirt of perfume. It was a slight improvement.
‘Bella!’ said Don with a smile when she came into the kitchen. ‘You look nice.’
‘No, I don’t,’ she snapped.
‘OK, nicer,’ he said. ‘Christ, I’m just trying to be friendly.’
‘Nicer than what?’ She was so tired, she didn’t have the energy to be anything apart from irritable.
‘Well, nicer than in my old track suit. Look I’m not saying any more. Everything I say just seems to make things worse.’ He turned to Markie who was lying on his sheepskin rug on the floor gurgling.
‘I’m sure he smiled at me a minute ago,’ Don said, waving a rattle over his son.
‘Did he?’ Bella rushed over. If Markie was going to start smiling, he damn well better smile at her first. ‘Hello hon, how are you today?’ she cooed at him. Markie locked eyes with her and smiled.
‘See!!’ Bella and Don said in unison, then laughed.
‘Wow, he’s smiling at five weeks, I think that’s early,’ Bella said, gazing at her son.
‘Oh no,’ Don groaned. ‘He was supposed to have your looks and my IQ!’
Bella managed a laugh at this, then sat down and ate some cereal, her mind on all the things she wanted to do in the house before the nanny arrived at 10 a.m. She was glad Don had taken the morning off to help her make this decision.
Bella was still breastfeeding in the immaculately tidy sitting room when the doorbell rang at ten to ten.
Don jumped up to get the door and Bella could hear polite hellos before Don ushered the nanny into the room.
‘Hello, I’m Joanne,’ said the solidly built girl heading towards her with an outstretched hand.
Bella juggled Markie for a moment, then managed to reach Joanne’s hand.
‘Hello, Bella Browning, pleased to meet you. Please sit down.’ She was surprised at how quickly her brisk, business tone had kicked in, even with a baby clamped onto her nipple.
‘And this must be Mark,’ said Joanne sitting down on the edge of the one armchair.
‘Markie, we call him Markie,’ said Bella, glancing down at the fuzzy little head nuzzling at her.
Looking up again, she took Joanne in. She was unredeemably plain, squarely built with pale, freckly skin, watery blue eyes and short mousy brown hair. She had a large nose and thin lips and was wearing no-nonsense navy blue trousers, a white blouse and a navy blazer with gold buttons.
Well, look on the bright side, Bella thought to herself. Don isn’t going to shag her.
They spoke about Joanne’s last job, which was perfect previous experience, two years looking after a little boy from babyhood until he went off to nursery.
Then Joanne asked Bella questions while Don made coffee.
‘Have you got him into any sort of routine yet?’ she asked.
‘Errrr, well, he wakes up at about 6 a.m. for a feed,’ Bella answered. ‘And he’s usually awake till about eightish, then we both go back to bed for a snack feed then a nap. From about 10 a.m. he feeds every two and a half to three hours and his naps in between feeds vary from none to the full three hours . . . umm . . . he has his last feed at 9 p.m. when I go to bed, then Don looks after him till he falls asleep about an hour later.’ She knew this was not a routine, just daily chaos.
‘He wakes up at about two and then six in the morning . . .’ she added, ‘and then off we go again. It’s not much of a routine yet, I know . . .’ Bella trailed off.
‘Well, it’s not bad for . . . five weeks he is now?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you’re managing to get enough sleep?’
‘Well, just about enough to keep sane,’ Bella smiled.
‘And does he take a bottle as well?’
‘Yup, he got a lot of top-up feeds from a bottle until a few days ago, then suddenly he didn’t seem so hungry.’
‘So we’ll have to get him really happy with the bottle before you go back. Are you giving up breastfeeding?’ Joanne asked.
‘I don’t want to just yet. I think I’ll try and do a morning and evening feed for as long as I can,’ Bella replied.
Joanne looked doubtful. ‘It makes it very hard for the baby to detach from you,’ she said matter-of-factly.
I should bloody well hope so, Bella thought, I don’t want him to detach.
‘Well, I’m not setting anything in stone, I’ll have to see how it goes,’ she said, suddenly anxious that Joanne was going to turn them down.
They covered some more ground. Joanne was slightly taken aback by the hours: 8 a.m. till 8 p.m. Monday to Friday.
‘That’s a 60 hour week,’ she pointed out.
‘Well, most nights I hope to be here at 7.30 p.m. but I want to make sure I’m covered if I’m later,’ said Bella.
‘I don’t mind doing those hours to start with until we’re all settled in, but then you’ll really have to think about giving me a three-day weekend and finding someone else for Monday or Friday,’ Joanne said, then added: ‘And I won’t be able to do any regular evening babysitting.
This was not the attitude Bella had expected at a first interview. She thought about her own first job and how she had
worked almost every waking hour.
‘It’s a very tiring, demanding job looking after a small baby,’ Joanne said by way of explanation.
Well yes, thought Bella, but not so bad if you’ve been able to sleep the night before.
Don returned with coffees and put Joanne more at ease with general chatty questions about where she was from and how she got into being a nanny.
He followed that up with: ‘Can you cook?’
‘Yes,’ Joanne answered. ‘But obviously that won’t be one of my duties here, will it?’
‘Well, it could be,’ Bella wobbled. ‘If you wanted it to be . . .’
‘I’d rather not,’ said Joanne with unarguable finality.
‘Will I have the use of a car?’ she asked.
‘Not immediately,’ Don answered, trying to imagine Bella letting someone else drive her Mercedes. ‘But we’ll look into it for the future.’
Bella was horrified. She didn’t want Markie to be driven anywhere without her.
It was time to wind this up, she decided.
‘It’s been lovely meeting you Joanne,’ she said with a slightly forced smile. ‘We’re going to talk this over together, call your references if we may and I will get back to you on Monday, if that suits.’
‘Yes, no problem at all,’ said Joanne, picking up a bulging navy handbag and standing up. She shook hands with them both and bent over to gently stroke Markie’s head before leaving the house.
As soon as the door had shut, Bella and Don turned to each other.
‘Well, what did you think?’ Don asked first.
‘No way. Just no way,’ Bella answered.
‘You’re joking?’ Don asked, exasperated. ‘I thought she seemed really nice.’
‘What!? She wasn’t going to stick her finger out one little bit. I can’t have someone who works to rule looking after my baby. What if he’s awake for an hour longer in the day than she’d estimated, would she just ignore him?’
‘Bella, what are you talking about? She wanted to clarify her hours, which are bloody long, and make sure she doesn’t get lumbered with all our housework and cooking. I think that’s fair enough.’
There was a pause as the two looked at each other.
‘She seemed like a nice, caring person and she certainly knows what she’s letting herself in for, she’s done this before,’ Don said. ‘Anyway, have you got any alternative?’ he added. ‘Your start date is less than three weeks away and this is your only candidate.’
Oh no, Bella was looking tearful again.
‘Look,’ he said putting an arm round her. ‘Why don’t you phone the family she was with before and ask them before you make a decision? Then, if you like, you can put her on trial for a month. If it’s not working out, look for someone else when you’re back at work.’
Bella sniffed hard.
‘You should be enjoying this time,’ Don hugged her against him, ‘not filling it with anxieties about nannies and going back. I’m sure it’s going to work out fine,’ he added. ‘You kept telling me when you were pregnant that this was what you wanted. It’ll be fine.’
‘I don’t want to leave him,’ Bella heard herself wail against Don’s chest. ‘He’s so small and he needs me and I just haven’t figured this whole thing out yet.’
Don held her tightly and didn’t say anything for a while. Then in his most soothing voice, he said, ‘Bella, just suck it and see, hon. Go back and see how it works out. You loved your job, I just don’t believe you’d be happy without it. You’ve got to start thinking about how you’re going to make this work, not blow every hurdle up out of all proportion.’
She knew he was right, but she was still crying.
Chapter Thirty-two
JOANNE WAS HIRED on the basis of the absolutely glowing report from her last employer and Bella now had one last week on her own with Markie. Next week, Joanne would start and the week after, she would be back. Back at Prentice, starting on the Danson’s project. It seemed unreal.
This morning, Bella had woken up with an agenda. This was be nice to Don day. She was going to do the supermarket run, very superficially clean round the house, cook him dinner and who knows, they might even have sex. It had been six weeks, after all.
She packed Markie into his car seat and left him rocking in the hall while she to-ed and fro-ed to her tiny car with all the equipment: one bottle of warmed milk in a thermos, one bottle of cooled, boiled water in case he got thirsty, a change of clothes, sunhat, parasol, nappies, wipes, muslin cloths for wiping up vomit, the changing bag, her handbag, buggy, sunscreens for the car windows . . . this was a nightmare, how was she going to fit all this in?
She crammed the buggy into the boot, squashed the changing bag into the space under the passenger seat and piled the extra nappies, bottles and dummies into the glove compartment and squeezed it shut.
When she went back for Markie, she smelled the unmistakable smell of dirty nappy and with a groan felt her determination to go out draining away. But she changed him, put him back in the car seat, fumbled the seat into the car and finally they were off, Bella, like every half-demented brand new mother, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other shading her howling little son’s eyes from the sunshine.
When Don came home that evening, he found his wife and his son out in the garden, enjoying the last of the day’s sun, Bella in a deckchair, Markie lying on his sheepskin rug. They were both freshly bathed and changed. Bella’s hair was still wet, but she looked nice, in a clean white T-shirt (his) and a sarong and sandals.
The kitchen was unusually tidy and it actually smelled as if something was cooking.
‘Hello!’ he kissed them both, adding, ‘Have I walked through a time fault and come out in the 1950s? Baby on the lawn, the wife in a skirt, dinner in the oven.’
‘Ha, ha . . .’ Bella answered, ‘I’m being nice to you – for a change.’ She smiled at him and he kissed her again.
The evening was so warm, they ate the simple meal of baked potatoes, ham and salad out in the garden. Bella lit candles on the garden table and poured out ice cold white wine.
Markie astonished them both by falling fast asleep straight after his 9 p.m. feed, so Bella carried him upstairs then switched on the intercom so she could go back out to the garden. When she sat back down in her deckchair, Don moved his chair behind hers. He began to rub her neck and rumple her hair, which she loved.
‘How are you doing?’ he asked.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see you, I feel as if I haven’t seen you for ages. Are you OK?’
‘Yeah,’ he answered and as she felt his strong thumbs circle at the base of her neck, she let her head fall forward and closed her eyes.
After a few moments, Don said: ‘So . . . Markie is asleep . . . and you’re not. I don’t suppose you’d want to go inside and, you know . . . cuddle up?’
She turned round to look at him and gave a sly grin. ‘Don’t you mean go inside and hump like an animal?’
‘Hey, I’m trying to be sensitive and understanding here!’ He smiled back and couldn’t help running a finger down her nose and onto her lips.
‘Have we even snogged since he arrived?’ she asked.
Don shook his head sadly.
‘That’s disgraceful,’ she said and got out of the chair.
She blew out the candles, then took his hand and led him into the kitchen. She turned to him in the open doorway and pulled him close for a kiss. He tasted warm and wine-flavoured; she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth and moved her hands through his hair.
He kissed back for several long minutes but kept his hands anchored firmly round her waist. He wasn’t going up to her breasts or down to her pants without written permission. He held her tightly and concentrated on the kissing.
Then Bella took him by surprise by throwing her T-shirt off over her head. Quickly she unhooked the matronly white nursing bra underneath and tossed it to the side.
He cupped his hands round
breasts which felt heavy and solid. ‘Are you OK?’ he whispered.
‘I’m fine, I’ve missed you . . .’ this in a teasing voice as she pulled his shirt out of his trousers.
‘Where are we going to go?’ he asked in such a throaty I’m-so-ready-to-fuck-you voice that she suddenly flicked from ‘this could be fun’ to ‘take me now’.
Their kisses became long, hot and devouring.
‘Kitchen table?’ she broke off to say. ‘No, I’ll get squashed. Kitchen wall?’
‘Ah ha.’ He steered her until she was backed up against the wall then they kissed again. As she unzipped him, he moved his hands down to the fabric of her skirt.
He felt through the folds to her pants and pulled them aside. Their eyes were open and he watched her closely. ‘Just tell me what to do,’ he whispered, feeling how encouragingly wet she was.
‘Slide your finger into me,’ she whispered back. It felt OK, it felt good. She smiled at him and licked his mouth, feeling his stiff hard-on flicker in her hands.
‘You’re a lovely man,’ she said.
She pulled her pants down, unknotted her skirt so it fell on the floor, then guided him slowly inside. She felt a ring of pain at the opening and nothing but numbness beyond that.
He moved against her and they looked at each other. Where was he?
‘Are you really in?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘I can hardly feel you.’
‘Let me move a bit.’ He moved his cock almost all the way out and pushed back in again.
‘Ow!’ Bella’s head fell back against the wall.
‘Sorry.’
‘Oh God, is this it?’ Bella asked, sounding upset. ‘Is this what sex is going to be like now? It feels like a sharp pencil in a shoebox. No offence, Don,’ she added.
‘Ermm . . . none taken.’
‘Does it feel OK for you?’ she asked.
‘Well . . . it’s different, but it’s still good,’ he reassured her. ‘I take it you don’t want me to carry on here?’
‘No, no, I’m sorry. I’m totally depressed. It’s obviously something else no-one wants to tell you about, having a baby ruins your sex life for ever,’ she said.
