Clara Bounces Back
Page 6
Sitting bolt upright, Oliver’s eyes widen as he clocks Noah’s appearance. ‘What the hell happened?’
‘Get out!’ I demand, ushering him out of the water. ‘Noah’s having a reaction to this paint. I need to get it off!’
Hastily climbing out of the tub, Oliver splashes the bathroom in soapy suds as he grabs a towel to conceal his modesty. ‘Jeez, Clara! Can’t you bathe him in the other bathroom?’
‘He’s having a bloody reaction!’ I hiss, stripping Noah down to his birthday suit and dropping him into the water. ‘There’s no time to run another bath! You’ve seen the newspaper articles! He could blow up like a balloon at any second!’
Clearly mistaking the chaos for playtime, Pumpkin picks up one of Noah’s socks and tosses it into the air joyfully.
‘Don’t you think you’re overreacting?’ Oliver grumbles, throwing the sock into the bedroom for Pumpkin to chase. ‘It’s just a little paint…’
Choosing to ignore him, I use a variety of different products to tackle the splashes of colour.
‘I’m so itchy!’ Noah wails, throwing back his head and kicking his legs in frustration. ‘Get it off me!’
‘I’m trying my best, Noah.’ Reaching for another cleanser, I apply it to a sponge haphazardly.
My hand aches from rubbing as I try and fail to free my son from his scratchy spots.
Realising that I’ve used every product in the bathroom, I turn to Oliver for help.
‘It’s not budging.’ I whisper, not wanting Noah to overhear. ‘What are we going to do?’
Scratching his beard thoughtfully, Oliver wanders into the bedroom and returns with his toiletry bag. ‘Try this.’
Carefully taking the bottle from him, I squint at the label before loading up the sponge. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s… Organic Natural Body Balm.’ Leaning over the tub for a closer look at the paint, Oliver brushes Noah’s hair back. ‘They were giving them away at the gym last week.’
Making small circles with the edge of the sponge, I breathe a sigh of relief when I notice the paint slowly breaking away.
‘It’s working!’ I say happily, rinsing away the paint.
‘I told you there was nothing to worry about!’ Oliver laughs and rubs my back reassuringly.
Splashing more of the product onto Noah’s arm, I rub at the spots gently. The multi-coloured splodges melt into the bubbles, causing the water to glisten like a rainbow.
Batting Noah’s hands away as he tries to scratch the back of his neck, I focus on a yellow blob on his shoulder. The paint slowly dissolves under my touch, revealing a random red dot. Frowning at the sore-looking blister, I’m surprised when I notice another one at the base of his spine.
‘Clara…’ Oliver mutters uncertainly, nudging my elbow. ‘Don’t panic, but I think you may have been right about the reaction thing.’
Following his gaze, I let out a gasp as he points to a cluster of tiny dots on Noah’s tummy. The small sores look strangely familiar as I wash them with clean water and scrutinise their appearance.
‘Yeah, that’s definitely a reaction.’ Oliver swaps his towel for a dressing gown and grabs his phone. ‘Alright, buddy. Let’s get you to the doctor…’
‘Wait a minute.’ I whisper, taking the phone from him and jabbing at the screen. ‘I don’t think that’s a reaction.’
Oliver frowns and leans down to read the web page I’m viewing. ‘If it’s not a reaction, what is it?’
Looking at the image on the screen and then at Noah’s back, I groan loudly as my suspicions are confirmed. ‘Oh, no! He’s got chickenpox!’
‘Chickenpox?’ Oliver repeats sceptically, taking back his phone. ‘Should I get him some Calpol or something?’
Holding my head in my hands, I accidentally transfer paint into my hair. ‘You can’t cure the chickenpox with Calpol!’
Staring at me blankly, Oliver reads the web page as I wash the remainder of the paint off Noah and wrap him in a towel. ‘If Noah has chickenpox, the chances are that the other kids have them, too.’
As I carry him into his bedroom, I grab a pair of pyjamas from his wardrobe and pass them to Oliver. ‘Change him into these while I go and speak to Gina and whatever you do, don’t let him scratch!’
Giving them both the sternest look I can muster, I sprint through the apartment and push my way out into the lobby. Taking the steps two at a time, I’m surprised to bump into Gina, who is approaching me from the opposite direction.
We come to a stop in front of one another, identical looks of dismay on our faces as we pant for breath.
‘Chickenpox!’
Chapter 9
Slowly sliding onto the steps, I reach up and pull Gina down next to me. ‘Have all the kids got them?’
‘All three of them.’ Gina whimpers, pulling a thread on her ripped jeans. ‘It seems that MJ has had them for a couple of days…’
‘A couple of days?’ I repeat in shock. ‘How is that even possible? You would have noticed them.’
Gina shakes her black bob and scowls. ‘While I was dunking the three of them in the tub, Madison let slip that she had been covering MJ’s spots with prettier spots since Tuesday.’
‘Tuesday?’ Taking my phone from my pocket, I bring up the website I was reading in the apartment. ‘In that case, he’s been contagious for days!’
Both reading the information on the site, we sit in silence and process every word carefully.
‘I need to call my clients and check their kids haven’t been infected, too.’ Gina groans, moving aside as the grumpy old man from the apartment next door walks down the staircase.
‘Let’s face it, they’ll probably all have them.’ I mumble regrettably. ‘Just think about how many kids were at Melrose’s party last week…’
Covering her eyes with her hands, Gina shakes her head in dismay.
‘It says here that chickenpox spreads like fire.’ Turning the screen to her, I point to the tiny text. ‘Both children and adults can be infected.’
‘This just gets better and better.’ She whispers. ‘Marc hasn’t had chickenpox and I’ve heard they’re pretty awful if you catch them as an adult. This is all he needs with everything that’s going on with Suave right now.’
Biting my lip, I raise my eyebrows and try to think of something to say to make her feel better. ‘Maybe he won’t catch them…’
‘Clara, he lives in an apartment with three infected children.’ She exclaims, laughing ironically. ‘The odds aren’t exactly in his favour.’
Not being able to argue with her, I slip my phone back into my pocket and sigh.
‘What about Oliver?’ Gina asks tiredly. ‘Has he had chickenpox before?’
‘I think so.’ I screw up my nose and try to recall a time where Oliver has mentioned the dreaded pox. ‘He must have. I mean, everyone’s had them, haven’t they?’
‘Marc hasn’t.’ She scoffs, pursing her lips knowingly.
My stomach flips with doubt and I push myself to my feet. ‘I better go and check on Noah. Are you coming?’
‘No. I’m going to head to the pharmacy for calamine lotion.’ Pulling up her jeans, she tucks her hair behind her ears. ‘Do you want me to grab you a bottle?’
‘Yes, please.’ Quickly slipping her a fiver, I say my goodbyes and race back down the steps.
Pushing my way into the apartment, I smile to myself as I hear Noah giggling from his bedroom. Following the sound of his voice, I fold my arms and watch the pair of them wrestling animatedly. All signs of his ordeal have vanished as he dives onto Oliver and joyfully squeals with delight.
‘Did you speak to Gina?’ Oliver asks, batting away Noah with a pillow.
‘I did. Madison, MJ and Melrose all have them, too.’ Taking a seat on the bed, I prop a cushion behind my back as Noah pins Oliver to the mattress. ‘Gina’s panicking because Marc hasn’t had chickenpox before.’
‘Why is she panicking?’ Fighting off Noah and an excited Pumpkin, Oliver pulls me b
ack onto the bed. ‘They’re not that bad, are they? From what I can gather, it’s just a few spots.’
‘For now…’ I reply, glancing at Noah’s skin dubiously. ‘Give it a couple of days and he will be covered in them.’
‘Really?’ Oliver asks cynically, giving me a doubtful look.
‘Yes and they’re super contagious.’ Remembering the information on the website, I lick my lips and turn to face him. ‘You have had chickenpox before, haven’t you?’
‘Not that I know of…’ He says coolly, laughing as Pumpkin tugs on one of his socks.
My heart sinks and I cover my face with the duvet. ‘Oh, no!’
‘What’s the big deal? If Noah can handle it, I’m sure I’ll be fine.’ Pulling the sheets back down, Oliver tickles me under the chin. ‘Like I said, it’s just a few spots.’
‘You don’t understand, Oliver. This is a complete disaster!’ Kicking off my shoes, I resist the urge to crawl under the duvet. ‘Chickenpox is far worse in adults. It can be really nasty.’
We hold eye contact for a few moments, until Oliver breaks into nervous laughter. ‘You’re yanking my chain.’
‘I’m not.’ Yawning into my hand, I stand up as Pumpkin dives off the bed and runs over to the balcony. ‘We’re just going to have to hope and pray that you don’t catch them.’
Following Pumpkin across the living room, I unlock the patio doors and usher her fluffy butt outside.
‘Maybe I should go into solitary confinement.’ Oliver jokes, positioning Noah in front of the television.
‘You can make all the jokes you want, but it won’t be so funny when you look like a scabby potato.’ Watching Pumpkin pad along the enormous balcony, I hold open the door as she comes tearing back inside.
Rolling his eyes, Oliver flicks on the coffee maker and glances up at the clock on the wall. ‘This might not be the best time to tell you this, given the discovery of the rooster things and all, but my mom is on her way over here.’
Not being able to hide my annoyance, I let out a whimper and shoot him daggers.
‘In my defence, I called her before the egg pox came to light.’ He protests, grabbing a few menus from the kitchen drawer.
‘Chickenpox!’ I correct miserably, wondering how this day could get any worse…
* * *
Pulling up her face mask until it’s just millimetres from her eyes, Janie pushes her salad around the plate miserably. Her hands are smothered in antibacterial gel as she desperately tries to avoid being infected with Noah’s germs. Rolling my eyes, I pick up my cutlery and return to my meal.
The second that Janie was informed about the chickenpox debacle, she raced straight down to the pharmacy and armed herself with face masks, immunity-boosting vitamins and more antibacterial gel than you would find in a hospital.
‘Do you want some of my bread, Gee-Gee?’ Noah asks, biting a chunk off his baguette and holding it towards a petrified Janie.
With her words being stifled by the frankly ridiculous mask, she muffles loudly and shoos him away.
‘Janie, you’ve already had chickenpox! You can’t catch them twice!’ I grumble, reaching for my glass of water. ‘Is the mask really necessary?’
Fumbling with her phone, she slides the handset across the table and points at the words on the screen. Giving it a sideways glance, I feel my smile falter as I discover that it is possible to catch them twice.
‘It says here that it’s extremely rare to catch chickenpox more than once, so I think you will be okay.’ Pushing the phone back to her, I discreetly kick Oliver beneath the table.
Immediately clearing his throat, he puts down his fork and takes a sip of water. ‘While we’re on the subject, Clara and I wanted to talk to you about something.’
Raising her eyebrows, Janie looks down at my stomach and tears off her mask. ‘You’ve not been storked, have you?’
‘What has chickenpox got to do with babies?’ I retort, tugging my napkin over my muffin top self-consciously. ‘Why do you always assume that I’m bloody pregnant?’
Again, Janie motions to my stomach and I shoot Oliver a glare.
‘There shall be no more babies… yet.’ Oliver confirms, leaning back in his seat. ‘We wanted to ask if you could care for this baby right here.’ Pointing at Noah, Oliver offers his mum a huge grin.
Janie remains silent, but I notice her acrylic nails dig into the table.
‘With Gina’s kids also having chickenpox, she’s had to cancel her clients for the next couple of weeks, meaning that we don’t have anyone to watch Noah while we’re at work.’ He explains, matter-of-factly. ‘It would be a great help if you could have Noah until he’s no longer contagious.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’ Looking at Noah out of the corner of her eye, Janie shakes her head firmly. ‘If Gina’s kids also have it, why can’t they all be infected together?’
‘I’m not sure throwing a bunch of sick kids together is going to earn us a Parent of the Year award.’ I say quietly, wiping a blob of ketchup from Noah’s chin. ‘Besides, I’m sure Noah would love to spend a week with his grandma. Wouldn’t you, Noah?’
Dropping his fork to scratch his arm, Noah nods enthusiastically as Janie grimaces back at him.
‘That’s settled then.’ Oliver smiles at his mum to seal the deal and returns to his dinner. ‘Thanks, Mom. We really appreciate it.’
Not giving her the chance to respond, I refill her wine glass and silently cheer.
‘Thanks, Janie.’ Planting a kiss on her mahogany cheek, I ignore her scowl and squeeze her tightly. ‘You’re the best…’
Chapter 10
Come rain or shine, good week or bad week, the girls meet at Artemis every Friday without fail. Since the arrival of the twins, Eve hasn’t joined us and tonight, I am secretly grateful. Not because I don’t enjoy her being here, but because it allows us to talk about Suave without the uncomfortable subject of Owen’s investment hanging in the air.
Looking around the buzzing bar, I feel myself finally start to relax. An evening of gossip and bubbles with my friends is exactly what the doctor ordered. Or at least, it’s what the doctor ordered for us. Marc and Oliver have been instructed to stay at home and apply calamine lotion to the kids every thirty minutes.
‘This place is fabulous!’ Lily gushes, straining her neck to take in the stunning paintings of ancient Greek gods and goddesses on the walls. ‘I can’t believe I’ve never been in here before. Thank you so much for inviting me!’
‘I knew you would love it!’ Dawn grabs the bottle of fizz from the table and refills her glass. ‘You should come along every week.’
Lily smooths down her brunette waves and looks over at me for confirmation. ‘Really?’
‘Of course!’ I reply, twirling my bubbles around the glass. ‘Like I said to Dawn, the more the merrier.’
‘Yeah, it’s always nice to invite a new face into the group.’ Lianna adds, before refreshing her lipstick.
‘Does that go for me, too?’ Janie hoots, from her place by the bar. ‘Cause I’ve been over here for months and this is the first one I’ve been invited to!’
‘You’re always welcome, Janie.’ Feeling Dawn’s eyes burn into me, I pretend not to notice as she gives me a swift kick beneath the table.
Returning to showering the barman with unwanted attention, Janie tosses her hair over her shoulder and pouts like a hungry duck.
‘Aren’t you going to save him?’ Gina whispers into my ear. ‘The poor guy looks absolutely petrified!’
‘Listen, the second she stops being his problem she’s going to be our problem.’ Taking a gulp of wine, I laugh into my glass as Gina giggles loudly.
Hearing Janie move on to the subject of her latest breast enhancement, I make a stab at raising the tone. ‘How do you think Hugh is getting on?’
‘No news is good news!’ Gina replies, her hoop earrings jangling as she rocks her shoulders in time to the music.
Knowing that Hugh is with Stelios rig
ht now makes my stomach flip uncontrollably. The Ianthe collaboration could be being shot down as we speak.
‘Hugh has this in the bag. I just know it.’ Lianna says confidently. ‘If he would have crashed and burned, we would’ve heard something by now.’
‘Does that go for Marc and Oliver, too?’ I tease, placing my glass on the table in front of me.
Shaking her head, Gina gets comfortable in her seat. ‘Oliver, yes. No news from Marc probably means he’s cowering beneath the duvet and drinking antibacterial gel.’
I let out a snort and shuffle around to face her. ‘I did feel a little bad leaving the guys tonight. What are the chances of them both not having had chickenpox before?’
‘They’re big boys. I’m sure they’ll survive!’ Motioning to the empty wine bottle, Gina pulls a few notes out of her handbag. ‘Are we having another?’
‘I’ll go.’ Snatching the money out of her hand, I weave my way through the crowd and strategically position myself at the opposite end of the bar to Janie.
Her red dress is hiked up dangerously high as she drapes herself across the counter, in what she believes to be a seductive manner. Hoping that no one realises we’re together, I lean against the bar and watch the steady stream of people buzzing in and out of the building.
‘What can I get for you?’ The barmaid asks, leaning over the counter to hear my order above the music.
‘Can we get another bottle of…’ I come to an abrupt stop as I spot a face I recognise in the sea of partygoers.
‘I’m sorry?’ The pretty barmaid shouts, cupping her hands around her ears.
‘The prosecco!’ I yell, motioning to the empty bottle of fizz on our table.
Passing her the money, I wander closer to the door and feel my jaw drop open as I realise the familiar face belongs to Hugh. Watching him lead an extremely short man through the bar, I take the bottle of bubbles and race back to our table.