by Aimee Horton
The fu…
Before I can even think about getting angry, the letterbox clatters, and a small padded envelope and a couple of letters have dropped to the floor.
What’s this?
I rush to the front door and scoop up the mail. Ignoring the letters, I tear the package open. I’m disappointed to see it’s a pack of pink dummies I’d ordered off eBay the day I’d gone into labour with George. I toss it onto the pile of pink clothes in the corner of the room, ready to be listed on eBay.
I’ll deal with all that tomorrow.
I leaf through the rest of the post.
Bill, bill, my subscription to Heat! Magazine, and what’s this?
A letter addressed to Penny from number 28. Before I have a chance to decide what to do with it, the kids have finished, and hoping to buy their silence about me being late collecting Mabel, I give them massive bowls of ice cream.
“Right… who wants more sprinkles?” I ask, holding up the pot. They squeal, and just as I’m about to tip more over their bowls, I whip it away again. “And what do we not tell Daddy?” I question, the sprinkles dancing in front of them.
“That you weren’t late for picking Mabel up!” Arthur sing-songs, and Mabel follows his lead. I tip more sprinkles onto their ice cream and feel smug.
I have awesome parenting skills.
6.
Why do I even bother trusting anybody who can be bribed by sprinkles?
“You fell asleep and didn’t pick Mabel up?” asks Henry, walking to the bedroom where I’m rolling up his work shirts and packing them into his suitcase.
“Which of the little sods sold me out?” I ask as I pair up socks, ignoring the holes in them.
“Both of them,” he replies, creeping in for a hug.
I push him away. “You’re kidding. That’s the last time I give them extra sprinkles,” I grumble. “And before you say it, yes, that’s why they’re both still bouncing off the ceiling. I thought it was worth it, but obviously I was wrong.”
“Did you get a chance to chat to the neighbours yet?”
I rummage in the wardrobe for a couple of ties, hoping to buy some time and avoid the conversation. No such luck. I can feel him looking at me.
“Er, no… too tired, obviously.” My cheeks feel hot.
I am an awful liar.
“I noticed there’s a letter on the counter for number twenty-eight.” He lets it hang in the air for a second before saying, “You could go and nip it over now.”
“What?” Horror tingles in the pit of my stomach.
I’m not ready to meet them, not looking like this.
“You heard me. Go on, run it over now. I’ll finish packing and get dinner going.”
“I can’t! Not looking like this!” I back away from him, knowing he’s not going to drop this. Once Henry is on one, he never gets off it until he has what he wants. He’s standing with his arms folded across his chest, waiting. I don’t stand a chance.
Why is he never on a cleaning or decorating “one”?
“Fine,” I pout. “Give me a minute.” I grab some clothes and march into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I sort my hair out and apply some make-up. I tug on skinny jeans and a baggy vest top.
Thank God baggy is “in” this year.
Stomping back into the bedroom, I throw him a look—one that shows just how miffed I am. Then I slip on my Kurt Geiger sandals—the ones I save for best—and admire my toenails, which luckily I’d painted the other day.
At least my feet always look good.
Standing up, I look in the mirror and ruffle my hair a bit more. Then I wipe some of my lipstick off so I look a little less polished.
“Well? What do you think?” I stare at him, daring him to answer.
“I have no idea what just happened, but you look gorgeous as always.”
“Oh come on, Henry, you of all people understand business and what first impressions mean. I made a shit first impression. They think I’m the ‘crazy lady’ of the street. I have a lot of work to do to make up for that.” I’m frustrated at his complete lack of knowledge of how this sort of thing works.
“How do you know they think you’re the crazy lady? Have they said something?” Henry looks concerned.
Shit.
“No, not exactly,” I lie, trying to think fast. Bending down, I scratch a non-existent itch on my foot so I can avoid his gaze. “No, but I mean come on. I turned my children green!” I count to three in my head before looking up and meeting his eye.
Henry laughs and shakes his head.
“Go on, Mrs. You look beautiful. You’re more than making up for the green kids. I’ll have finished up in here and poured the wine by the time you’re back.” Conveniently, he appears to have forgotten about dinner.
I head downstairs and retrieve the letter. At the front door, I take a few deep breaths.
Come on, Dottie, you can do this. Just don’t put your foot in it.
Outside, the cool evening air hits my bare arms. Not giving myself a chance to change my mind, I walk purposefully down the street towards number 28.
When I knock, a dog starts barking behind the door.
Great! No one’s home but the dog so I can leave.
Just then, Penny opens the front door.
“Yes?” she says, head tilted to one side, a confused look on her face.
Don’t stuff this up Dottie. It’s your chance, your opening.
Silence. I need to say something, but my lips can’t move.
“Letter,” I eventually manage to blurt out.
That’s just one word! Come on, Dottie!
I clear my throat a couple of times and try again.
“I have a letter for you. It came through our door earlier. I thought I’d drop it off.” My voice sounds a bit high-pitched this time.
“Thanks.” Penny takes the letter and starts to shut the door.
I have to say something fast if I’m going to engage her.
“When are you due?” The words fall out of my mouth, and Penny pauses for a second, as if I’ve stopped her shutting the door with my foot. She goes to shut it again, but then her face changes.
“In two weeks,” she replies, fully opening the door. That’s when I know I’m in.
“Wow! You look amazing!” I say, smiling, and I mean it. She is heavily pregnant but glowing.
Yes!
“Thanks, I don’t feel it. I feel like an elephant!”
“Well, you don’t look like it, but I know what you mean. Do you know if you’re having a girl or a boy?” The questions come easily. I love babies. I even miss being pregnant. A little.
“No, Phillip—that’s my husband—he wants a surprise.” Her face is full of light and happiness.
She’s so having a girl. Tina was right; she’s all over, not up front.
“Well, look, if you have a girl, let me know. I have a ton of girl’s stuff. They told me George was going to be a girl, you see.” The prospect of free baby clothes is enough to buy any friendship.
“Oh, thank you! But oh God. You thought you were having a girl?” She looks sad for me, and I can tell she’s desperate for her baby to be a girl.
“Yup, convinced. We didn’t believe it even when he came along. It was only when the midwife showed us. Look… anyway… I don’t want to keep you, but you know, if you need anything, just yell. Er, well, maybe only call during school time; the other two aren’t as lovely as George!” I see her smile falter a little bit.
Shit. Of course, she doesn’t know what kids are like yet.
“I mean… they’re not as relaxing and don’t make it as easy to chat, the little rascals!” I force out a fake laugh.
Her shoulders relax again, and we smile at each other.
“I’m Dottie, by the way… by name and probably by nature.” I laugh a bit too loudly, holding out my hand.
She hesitates for a second, glancing down the street towards Tina’s house. But something changes in her face, and she smiles an
d shakes my hand.
“I’m Penny, welcome to the street.”
I say goodbye and wander back to my house. I smile at Tina as she drops a bag of rubbish into her wheelie bin. But even when she doesn’t smile back, it doesn’t bother me.
~~~~
Henry left early this morning and won’t be back for days, but for once it doesn’t matter. I’m feeling positive and have a spring in my step.
The children got up happily, and after no arguments, nearly skipped to school. I should be suspicious, but I heard Henry whisper he’d buy presents if they were good for Mummy.
Let’s hope it lasts.
The sun is shining, and George is cooing at me in his pram. As I pass by Penny’s house, I am not even faking enjoying motherhood. I’m actually feeling like things are starting to fall into place.
At home, I place George in his bouncy chair, fling open the conservatory doors and drum my fingers on the kitchen counter.
I’m desperate for a coffee, but the caffeine gives George colic, and I’m not sure either of us can deal with that while Henry is away. So I settle for a fruit tea instead.
George has drifted off in his chair already, so I sink onto the sofa and close my eyes, beginning to drift off myself. I slip into a dream of people talking around me. Until I realize I’m not actually asleep or dreaming.
I can hear voices.
It’s not long before I recognise Penny’s voice and what I think is Izzy’s. They sound really close, and then they move farther away.
They’re heading to Tina’s for coffee.
I close the conservatory doors and switch on the monitor, making sure it’s on Channel B.
Tina is laughing loudly as she ushers the other two into whatever room the baby monitor is in, and I can’t help wondering why she has a baby monitor. Arthur told me that her son, Declan, is in his class at school.
Setting an alarm on my phone so I don’t miss nursery pick up again, I kick off my shoes and curl up on the sofa to listen. George opens one eye lazily and looks at me. I’m beginning to think he’s judging me far more than a baby of his age should.
I stay there for half an hour, and then when George starts to grizzle for his feed, I keep listening. It’s only when I place him back in his bouncy chair and watch him drift off to sleep that I think perhaps I should do something else.
Tina has gone to make more tea. I take the opportunity and gently turn George’s chair so it’s facing the kitchen. I set the monitor on the breakfast bar before nipping off to grab the ironing board. By the time Tina is back with the drinks, I’ve set myself up with a pile of laundry.
“Anybody tried those new Zero Noodles?” asks Izzy during a slight lull in the conversation. “I’ve read they’re good for losing a bit of weight and not starving yourself.”
I have some of those in my cupboard. They’re vile.
I listen for the others’ replies. Penny murmurs something about not tried them but would be interested once the baby is here, and that’s when Tina pipes up.
“Ha ha ha, no not yet! Not needed them really, but you’ve got the right idea. Don’t want to leave it too long.” There’s an awkward pause. “How much do you weigh if you don’t mind me asking?” Without giving Izzy a chance to answer, she continues. “I have a bit to lose, am thinking about Weight Watchers but not sure if it works. Have you tried that yet, Izzy?”
“No, not yet,” is Izzy’s quiet reply, before going back to the noodles. “Anyway, I thought it would be a nice change to pasta and stuff.”
“I’ll keep my eye out for you,” says Penny, and the subject moves on to TV. I continue ironing as they discuss what they’re going to watch once Breaking Bad is finished.
I don’t want to think about it. I know it’s a bit pathetic, but the end of an American drama is not something I deal with very well. I mean, what else am I meant to watch every night? Not that I can watch it until Henry gets back. He’s made that clear.
I hear my name, and my ears prick up.
“Hey, Dottie from opposite popped over last night,” begins Penny. “A letter for us had gone through her door,” she justifies, and I hold my breath waiting for more. “She seems nice, offered me a load of baby clothes if I end up having a girl.”
“Girl’s clothes?” Tina interrupts. “I thought she has a boy? At least I hope it’s a boy.”
Hey!
I glance at my sleeping squishy baby and am pleased to see he’s not heard the comment. Not that it’s wrong he looks like a boy, but still.
“Or does she mean second-hand stuff from the other? She’s got three of them, you know. Three kids. No wonder they’re out of control.” Tina almost sounds bitchy.
I’ll have you know, they were out of control before the third came along thank you very much.
“Yeah, they told her she was having a girl, and she didn’t find out until she had him, so she offered me the stuff she’d bought before ‘she’ turned out to be ‘he,’” Penny says.
Then Tina jumps in. “That’s nice. Did I tell you I’m thinking of getting a new car?” Without missing a beat, she tries to change the subject, but Penny doesn’t let the subject drop straight away.
“She seems sweet. Maybe we should invite her over one time?” Penny’s voice is almost tentative, and I get the impression she’s nervous around Tina.
“Maybe. Anyway, this car I fancy…” Tina continues.
That seems to be that then.
I continue to listen and learn that Tina is considering getting a Range Rover. In fact, it sounds like the exact one I wanted, before I caved and got the “bus” as I call it. Tina starts to reel off the pros just as I had to Henry, and as my phone buzzes letting me know it’s time to get Mabel, I’m quite relieved. I’m not sure I want to hear somebody else getting the car that was meant for me.
~~~~
“Wotcha doin’ Mumma?” Mabel’s squeaky little voice makes me jump and bang my head on the roof of the cupboard I’m rummaging in.
“Just looking for something, Mabs. What are you doing?” I ask, suspicious that she’s crept up on me like that.
Ah ha! There they are.
I grab the packet of Zero Noodles and carefully ease myself out of the cupboard, ignoring the fact that it’s already in complete disarray, even after only two months of living here.
“So what have you been up… ohhhh!” I bite my lip, trying hard not to react because there, standing with her hands on her hips, is my daughter in her latest outfit creation. Her swimming costume, a pair of Arthur’s snow boots and a plastic tiara.
Classy.
“Gosh, don’t you look amazing!” I say, glancing discreetly at my watch and noticing we need to leave to get Arthur soon. “Sooo, shall we get changed so we can pick up your brother? Maybe we can stop at the park on the way home?”
“No change,” says my daughter with that look in her eyes. The look that means I’m probably not going to have time to drop the Zero Noodles off at Izzy’s house before we get Arthur.
“You can keep the tiara on,” I propose.
“No change,” she says again, folding her arms across the Peppa Pig on the front of her costume.
“We can have chocolate…”
“NO. CHANGE. MUMMAH.”
And there goes the foot stomp.
“What about if we put your clothes on top?” I half-heartedly offer, knowing I’ve lost.
There is no way on earth I’m going to convince her to leave the house in anything but that.
We look at each other, neither blinking, hoping to stare the other out, and eventually I break. I look around the room, and my eyes rest on a plastic bag tucked behind the sofa in the conservatory. It contains a Belle costume from Beauty and the Beast. It was in the sale, and I’d intended to save it for her birthday… but I really want to drop those Zero Noodles off at Izzy’s house, and I can’t do it with Mabel looking like a mess.
People whose kids are still cute babies just don’t get it.
“OK, fair enough,”
I say, playing it cool. I can’t show I’m bothered or she’ll dig her heels in more. “Mabel, will you grab Mummy that bag from behind the sofa please?” I don’t even look at her as I say this, and instead reach down to scoop up George and walk to the hall and place him gently in his pram.
“What’s in it, Mummy?” my predictable daughter asks.
“What, darling?” I pretend to be distracted. “Oh the bag? I don’t know. Why don’t you take a look?”
She squeals, waking up George. I rock the pram furiously until he closes his eyes again. By the time he does, Mabel is already in her costume.
“I WEAR THIS!” she says, looking like a little angel.
“Oh go on then!” I say, smiling.
Mummy One. Mabel Zero.
Before either of us changes our mind, I quickly usher her out of the house. Then, with Zero Noodles tucked under my arm, we skip the few meters to next door.
Izzy’s drive is shorter than ours. It’s also paved, so no stones. Meaning I can push the pram gently to the front door and ring the bell. The door opens almost instantly, and Izzy’s face visibly drops when she sees me.
“Hi!” I say before I can chicken out. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m Dottie from next door. Look, I have these in my cupboard. I bought them for my mum, but got the wrong thing. She wanted the rice apparently… Anyway, I don’t suppose you know anyone who wants them? I’m awful right now. I know I should be dieting but am totally riding this newborn ‘need to eat loads while I’m breastfeeding’ wave while I have the chance!” I’m gabbling, not wanting to stop. But I’m aware I need to before I sound stupid.
Izzy looks at the packet in my hands and smiles a bit.
“How funny! I was just talking about these the other day!” She looks nervously over my shoulder, and I turn to see Tina. She’s leaning into the passenger seat of her car, looking for something. She finds it, then slams the door shut. She doesn’t bother to look in our direction.
She’s always about, isn’t she?
“Really?” I say, ignoring the look on Izzy’s face. “Do you want them? It seems a shame, them going to waste, and I can’t see me getting Henry to eat them anytime soon.” Just then, as I’m struggling to look like the generous neighbour rather than the scary stalker, George starts to whimper. I’m about to rock the pram again when Mabel leans in and strokes his face. He stops crying instantly.
