Baby Blue

by Julia Green

  Just leave him. He’ll get used to it. Dad’s words echoed in her head. But they competed with Vicky’s: When your baby cries, he’s telling you something. He needs something. He needs to know you’re listening.

  Mia went to run a bath. His cries got louder, but the sound of the running water drowned him out. She went back to check. His face looked red and hot. He was still crying. He couldn’t really need anything, could he? She’d fed him and changed him, and he’d been cuddled almost all day. To have one uninterrupted bath, that wasn’t much to ask.

  Mia went back into the bathroom and turned on the radio. She left the door open, so he could hear the music, know that she was still there. She found a small bottle of lavender oil on the shelf and dripped it into the running water. That was better; she could already feel herself starting to unwind. She undressed and stepped into the bath.

  She lay in the water for ages. When it cooled down too much, she added more, till the tank was empty and it began to run cold. There would be hardly any hot water left for Dad. Good. Served him right. She lay right back and let her head slip under, felt the water lap the sides of her face. Her hair floated out, a small dark halo. She ran her fingers through the soft fringes. Like seaweed.

  She thought of Colleen, standing on the edge of the sea on Wednesday afternoon, twirling round in her turquoise dress, her long hair like a dark wave as she spun round without even getting dizzy.

  ‘How do you do that? Without falling over?’

  ‘You have to fix your eyes on a single point. Keep your focus. Whip your head round, like this. You learn it as a dancer.’

  She whirled faster, arms stretched out wide, until her foot slipped on the wet pebbles and she lost her balance, toppled, laughing, sprawled out in the shallow water. Mia watched the turquoise silk dress soak up the wet, turn dark as blood, and Colleen’s hair swirled out like weed. She lay there, a stranded mermaid, still laughing, letting the waves wash over her.

  ‘Aren’t you freezing?’

  ‘Yes. But only cos I was so hot before.’

  ‘You’re crazy! Look at you!’

  Mia wished Colleen was here now, staying over. Or Becky, or Tasha, or almost anyone. She closed her eyes, dipped deeper, let the water close right over her face. She held her breath for as long as she could. She used to do that with her sister Laura, years ago. Mia could hold her breath longer than anyone she knew. But she was out of practice. She surfaced, spluttering, gulping for air.

  Mia reached out a hand for a towel and got out of the bath, dripping all over the floor. She turned the radio off. Silence. Kai must have gone to sleep, then. Dad might have been right after all.

  She paused to listen again at the bedroom door. She didn’t want to go in, in case she woke him. It was quiet, just the dozy sound of a fly butting against the window. It was warm upstairs; the sun had moved round to the back of the house. Mia pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and went downstairs to get a drink.

  There was a bottle of white wine open in the fridge, left over from Dad’s evening with Julie. The thin gold liquid in the clear bottle looked cool and inviting. Mia poured herself some, smiled as the wine glug-glugged into the glass. Delicious. She took it outside with her and lay on the grass in the sun. Above her, the swifts dipped and dived and screeched against the pale sky.

  They’d had over two weeks of proper summery weather now. Exam weather, Dad called it. It’s always hot when the kids have exams. Will and Becky and Tasha and everyone had the last one next week. Then they’d all be celebrating. Parties. Becky said she had to come. Her mum might babysit. Mia let her thoughts ramble as she sipped the wine.

  She went back to get the bottle. Might as well top up her glass. Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself? Everyone else was.

  She looked at her watch. Nearly nine. She had an uneasy feeling somewhere in her stomach. Better check Kai. Then she’d have another glass. And cook herself something to eat, later. Dad and Julie would be settling down to salmon in filo pastry, baby potatoes, green beans. She could well imagine it. Dad would raise his full glass (Julie was driving): ‘Cheers. Here’s to us. And the end of term. Four weeks to go!’

  Mia tiptoed into the bedroom. Kai had tried to kick his blanket off, but had merely wound himself tighter in it. His face was crimson, his cheeks tear-stained. She hadn’t heard him. And the evening sun had been shining full on the back of the house, flooding the room with warmth and light. Through the gap she’d left in the drawn curtains, a strip of sun shone directly on to the Moses basket. Carefully, Mia loosened the blanket and folded it back, checked him. He was still fast asleep. Thank goodness. She pulled the curtains tighter together, to shade him. She thought of opening the window, but then the cat might get in. He could jump from the ash tree on to the windowsill if he was feeling energetic enough. He loved to sleep on Kai’s basket.

  Mia tiptoed out again. He’d be all right now. She’d check him again in a little while, just to make sure.

  It was hard to settle outside now. The wine tasted slightly sour. She tipped the last glass down the sink.

  Dad and Julie would be having dessert by now. Strawberry meringue with cream. Or a lemon sorbet, maybe, for Julie. Dad would be resisting the chocolate fudge cake to impress her. Two coffees.

  Mia still wasn’t hungry. She flipped the TV on, channel-hopped, switched off. Boring. She wandered outside again. The cat, Apple Pie, stalked over, tail high, and rubbed around her bare legs. Cupboard love. She gave him dry fish biscuits in his saucer near the back door. A slight breeze rattled the leaves of the ash tree. The bunches of seeds, keys, you called them, hung down like bright green party decorations. Colleen had made her look at them when she was here on Wednesday. Mia had told her how every autumn she and her sisters used to pick off sycamore keys on their way to school and pull open the little wings, balance them on their noses. They said they were unicorns. Colleen had laughed and tickled Kai and Zak’s baby noses with the soft tip of an ash leaf.

  She was full of it, Colleen. Of a sort of bubbling happiness. And of all the things they were going to do together. She talked as if Mia would always be here, in this house and garden; she couldn’t imagine why she would ever want to be anywhere else.

  Was that the cat miaowing? Mia listened. No, it was a baby’s cry. It took a second to register. Her baby. Kai. Only it didn’t sound like Kai’s crying usually did. Mia shot inside and upstairs.

  Kai lay with his eyes wide open, his face puce. He cried feebly, a bit like a newborn baby, or a kitten. She knew instantly that something was terribly wrong.

  She snatched him up out of the basket. His hair was damp, his body hot and limp. Mia scrabbled with the poppers on the Babygro, trying to unfasten them. His vest underneath was damp and hot too, his skin red. His eyes looked weird, staring as if she wasn’t there.

  Her first impulse was to shake him out of it, to make him see her. But she knew that wasn’t a good idea. What, then? He was much too hot. She must cool him down. She tried desperately to remember what Vicky had said about babies with temperatures. That was it. You sponged them down with a flannel. Warm water, not dead cold. She carried him into the bathroom.

  Just as she was running the water in the basin, Kai’s whole body started twitching horribly. Mia started to shake. He was going to die and it was her fault, and Dad’s, too, because he had said leave him to cry and then he’d just gone out and left them both. What on earth should she do?

  Stop panicking. Think. Cool him down. She sponged his face and body over and over, then she wrapped him in the towel and ran into Dad’s room to use the phone. Phone who? In a panic, she could only think about Vicky. She’d know what to do. Vicky’s number? Where was it? If she could find her mobile she had the number already programmed in. She ran downstairs, Kai bundled in her arms. He had gone quiet now. There. In her bag. She pressed the numbers.

  ‘Slow down, I can’t hear properly! Mia, is it?’ Vicky’s voice was calm: Mia instantly started to cry. She tried to explain what was happening
.

  ‘I’ll come straight over. It’ll take me ten minutes or so. If he has another fit, phone for an ambulance straight away. 999: emergency. Yes? Got that? He’s got too hot, probably. Got a high temperature. Run a shallow lukewarm bath and lay him in it in your arms till he’s cooled down a bit. Don’t leave him. I’m coming right over.’ She didn’t sound so calm now. She made it seem really serious.

  Mia rushed back into the bathroom with Kai and started to run the bath. If only she hadn’t used up so much hot water before, for her own bath. It was barely lukewarm. It took so long. She sponged Kai’s body with the flannel while she waited for the water to get deep enough. It felt much too cold. She knelt down beside the bath, laid Kai in the water, splashed the water over his tummy. He trembled. Why was he so quiet? Usually he’d kick his legs, splash with his hands, enjoy the water. Hurry up, Vicky. Please.

  Was he cooler now? Mia thought so. But might he not get too cold? That was dangerous, too. She lifted Kai out of the bath and wrapped him loosely in the towel again. Then she found him a new nappy and a short-sleeved vest. He had started to whimper now, but his eyes still looked strange: empty and unfocused. Perhaps if she took him outside? While they waited for Vicky?

  It seemed much longer than ten minutes. Finally Mia heard the sound of a car coming up Church Lane, the gear change as it came up the hill, and then the familiar red car drew up outside the gate. Vicky, in a short sundress instead of her usual grey uniform, ran into the garden.

  ‘How is he? I came as quick as I could. Had to drop Sam off at my mum’s on the way.’ She fished her bag out of the car, got her thermometer out.

  She took Kai from Mia, put her hand on his neck, on his head. ‘He’s still a bit hot, but not too bad now. We’ll take his temperature and give him a proper check.’

  Mia waited anxiously while Vicky put the thermometer under Kai’s arm and felt his pulse.

  ‘We might have to take him to Accident and Emergency in Ashton. Where’s your dad?’

  ‘Out. With his girlfriend.’

  ‘Can you phone him?’

  Oh, no, Mia thought. Please no.

  ‘What is it?’ Mia asked. ‘What does it say?’

  Vicky handed Kai back to her while she held the thermometer up. ‘It’s going down, by the look of things. But we’ll need to keep an eye on him. It’s really scary, I know, seeing your baby like that. It sounds like he had a fit –. febrile convulsion, that’s the proper name. And it’s not that uncommon. It’s when a baby gets too hot, and his temperature shoots up, and the fever sort of overwhelms him. So the main thing is to cool him down, quick. Which you did.’

  Mia held Kai in her arms, rocked him, kissed his hot damp head over and over.

  ‘We’ll watch him, in case the fever was the start of something else, but it may have been the hot room, like you said. I’ll ring the doctor, just in case, to put her on alert. See if there’s anything else she recommends.’ Vicky looked at Mia again. ‘Hard being by yourself, though. Anyone would feel that. Really scary. What time’s your dad back?’

  Mia shrugged. ‘He didn’t say. I know where he is, though. I could phone him there.’

  ‘Well, maybe we don’t need to. I’ll stay for a while, check Kai’s all right. We’ll phone him if we decide we need to go to the hospital. All right?’

  That felt better. Perhaps Dad need never know. She didn’t want him flapping around, fussing, finding fault.

  Kai had settled down. His temperature had dropped down to nearly normal. There wasn’t any danger of another fit now, Vicky said. They’d been lucky. But she’d stay a bit longer anyway.

  ‘What about your little boy?’ Mia asked.

  ‘Sam can stay the night with my mother. He’s used to it. I’ll phone her, to check, in a minute. She likes to have him.’

  ‘Sorry. To get you out.’

  ‘It’s all right, Mia. I’m pleased to help. But next time – well, hopefully there won’t be a next time, but if there was, if he had another convulsion, don’t take any risks. Not with a baby. Phone for an ambulance straight away.’

  Vicky wasn’t exactly cross, but Mia still felt told off.

  ‘We need our support systems, us single mothers,’ Vicky said. ‘Having my mother round the corner makes all the difference. I couldn’t manage without her.’

  Mia didn’t answer.

  ‘It’s too difficult otherwise.’ She looked hard at Mia. ‘How much are you on your own?’

  Mia shook her head. ‘It was just tonight. Please don’t tell Dad.’

  Vicky kept quiet. She looked thoughtful. Then, ‘Do you want to make us a coffee or something? Not wine, unfortunately, because I’m driving.’

  Had she noticed the glass and the empty bottle? Mia hoped not. She probably wouldn’t mind, but Mia wasn’t sure. Maybe she’d get totally the wrong idea about her. She might start thinking Mia wasn’t coping very well. That she drank wine every evening or something. People did. It would be easy enough, alone all day. A cupboard full of bottles.

  While Mia made coffee, Vicky carried Kai into the lounge and laid him in his Moses basket, lightly covered with a sheet.

  ‘He’s sleeping it off. That’s normal. He’ll probably sleep really well tonight.’

  They left the French windows wide open, so they could listen out for him, and sat down on the lawn together.

  ‘It’s still beautifully warm. Perfect night for a party.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘When I was driving here, I passed a whole crowd of young people. On their way to the beach, I imagine. Party time.’

  Mia could feel her spine knotting, bone by bone, till her whole back was rigid. Party time. She knew who that must be. And they hadn’t even invited her. Becky had promised! She’d made it sound like it would be later next week, after their last exam. Mia could have gone with Kai, couldn’t she? Even if it was only for a little while. Gradually, they were forgetting all about her. It was too much.

  The sobs just seemed to well up of their own accord. She’d thought Kai was going to die. Everyone was at a party and they hadn’t even told her. And in any case, she couldn’t have gone, because of Kai. It was all a huge horrible mess.

  Vicky didn’t say much. She let Mia cry for ages, and then she put her arm round her and hugged her tight. Eventually, they drank their cold coffees. It was beginning to get dark.

  ‘Do you want me to stay till your dad gets back?’

  ‘No!’ Mia said. ‘I mean, there’s no need. As long as you’re sure Kai’s going to be all right.’

  ‘We’ll have one last look. And I’ll take his temperature again. And you can always phone. I’ll leave my mobile on. Or there’s the hospital. Yes?’

  ‘You’re not even on duty,’ Mia said.

  ‘Well, I’d only do it for you!’ Vicky smiled.

  ‘And Colleen.’

  ‘Well, maybe Colleen, too. I’ve got time for you two. Like you both. And the babies. And I know what it’s like. Remember? I’ve been there, too.’

  Mia remembered. Vicky had had Sam when she was only seventeen. But she’d got on fine. Got herself together. It was possible, even for a teenage mum.

  ‘I’m glad you and Colleen are getting on,’ Vicky said. ‘I thought you’d like each other.’

  ‘She’s been over here loads of times now,’ Mia said. ‘She loves the garden. And the sea.’

  ‘Well, it must be wonderful compared to that flat she’s living in at the moment. It was all we could find, at short notice. It’s not for long, though. She’s used to being outside, what with travelling and the fair. And this is a lovely garden. You’re really lucky.’

  Mia didn’t answer. She was fed up with people telling her how lucky she was. She didn’t feel lucky at all.

  ‘Anyway,’ Vicky went on, ‘Colleen’s mum will be able to have her back soon, now she’s so much better. She’s got one more appointment to go, I think. And hopefully Isaac’s putting on weight now.’

  That was another thing. If C
olleen left, went back with the fair, where would that leave Mia? She’d have nobody soon.

  When Vicky had driven off, Mia carried Kai in his basket upstairs to the bedroom. He was getting heavier. She needed both hands and had to stop halfway up for a breather. She put the basket down by the bed, stroked his cheek. He was sleeping soundly now. She kissed his cheek tenderly. Her precious baby.

  ‘Night-night, sleep tight. Sweet dreams’ That was Mum’s voice, suddenly coming back to her over the years. What she used to say as she tiptoed out of Mia’s bedroom. Funny, the way it had just popped into her head.

  Mia pulled the curtains back, opened the window wide and looked out into the night. As if on cue, a huge full moon was rising, silver and mysterious. It would be so beautiful, watching that moon rise over the sea. Mia wasn’t sure whether she was imagining it, or whether she could actually hear laughter and voices drifting up the hill from the party on the shore.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mia woke up briefly in the night. She lay listening in the darkness, wondering what had woken her. Kai was sleeping soundly. She put her hand on his head: cool, no temperature. Thank God for that. She reached out for the clock: just after midnight. Strange, it felt like she’d been asleep for much longer than an hour or so. Then she heard voices, low, and the bathroom door creaked. Dad and Julie. She must be staying the night. That meant she’d be there first thing, having breakfast, and would probably be staying around all day, since it was Saturday. There was no way Mia was going to be around for that.

  She woke again with Kai at five thirty. She fed him in the bed, both of them still sleepy, and they dozed together like that till after six. It would be another beautiful day. The sun was already up, the sky a clear blue.

  A new day. A new start.

  Mia got dressed, leaving Kai on the bed, bolstered in with pillows so he couldn’t slip off. She went into her sister Kate’s room, opened the wardrobe doors and rifled through the dresses and skirts she’d left hanging there, all the clothes she couldn’t fit into her backpack. The dress Mia had borrowed last summer, the one she’d been wearing that first time she and Will made love in the field by the beach, was hanging there. On an impulse, Mia took it off the hanger and slipped it on. It still fitted, more or less. Just a bit tight at the top, where it had hung loose before. She smoothed the silky fabric over her thighs. If Colleen could wear a silk dress on the beach, why shouldn’t she?