Out of Control

Chapter 34

The next couple of days went by in a claustrophobic blur of tears — mostly Natalie’s but a fair few from Adele and a lot blinked and swallowed away by Fiona, plus one lot that she had to rush to the bathroom and let out with a towel stuffed in her mouth. The latter wasn’t just caused by her coming to terms with the life choices she’d made, but also the increasing hurt and confusion she was feeling around Joe’s continued comments about Rose.

“I know you’re doing what you think best, Fiona,” he’d said when Adele got upset over the difficulties of supporting a crying baby in a bath of warm water with one arm and trying to gently wash her with the other hand.

“I can’t do it without drowning her,” Adele was wailing.

Fiona had stood in the doorway of the small bathroom. There wasn’t room for two of them to kneel over the baby bath, which Adele had placed in the middle of the floor. Adele had requested that Fiona help with the procedure, but working as a double act wasn’t practical.

“Can you do it for me? I don’t want to kill her.”

“You won’t kill her. And I’m right here if anything does go wrong. But it won’t.”

Joe had been standing at the top of the stairs, from where he could whisper in Fiona’s ear. Adele was too wrapped up in her own difficulties to be aware of what was going on behind her. “If Rose was here, she wouldn’t be putting her daughter through this hell. She would be doing the bathing until Adele was over the birth, calmer and able to do it herself more objectively.”

Fiona had bristled. “How many times do I have to point out that I am not Rose. And my relationship with both you and your daughter is completely different to the relationship which the two of you had, or still have, with her.”

“I get that. But you’re the nearest thing to a Rose replacement we have.”

“I am not a Rose replacement.” There’d been a twitch across Adele’s back and Fiona hoped the girl hadn’t heard them. The last thing she needed was strife between her father and the woman who was giving both of them a roof over their heads. She lowered her voice. “And me doing the bathing instead of Adele is merely kicking the can down the road. It’s better that she is pushed to fly safely without stabilisers now, otherwise she will end up scared of handling Natalie and it will be me bonding with the baby rather than her mother.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Fiona had refused to argue any further, but she’d stuck to her guns of making Adele do as much of the baby-care as possible and only stepped in occasionally to allow Adele to rest.

These ongoing stresses meant New Year’s Eve didn’t have any special feel about it. Fiona couldn’t dredge up any optimism for the new start that would be heralded by the midnight chimes of Big Ben.

“Are we doing anything special this evening?” Joe asked her after lunch. “I could ring round and see if there’s anywhere with a table free.”

“Two problems with that. Is it fair to abandon your struggling daughter and her new baby on one of the most emotive nights of the year? Secondly, going out at New Year costs an arm and a leg.”

“But it’s our first New Year together as a proper couple. I want people to see us. To know we are together.”

Fiona let his shallow sentiment go. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Joe wasn’t the man she’d thought he was and that scared her. It was more fun to miss him for most of the week than to have him living in her house. And now she was cornered without an easy way to ask him to leave.

“I could invite Mum and Meeko over,” she offered. “To make it a bit different to the other nights.” Dorothea would jump at the chance but Meeko would probably say ‘no’. She’d sent him some light-hearted quips and a couple of photos of Natalie since Christmas Day but had had nothing back bar a few thumbs up emojis indicating he’d seen her messages.

“Not Meeko.”

Fiona sensed an edge to his voice. “Oh?” Did Joe know something about Meeko’s distancing himself from her?

“I don’t know him properly and it would be weird having him here. We’re a couple and he’d be the odd one out.”

“He probably saved your granddaughter’s life; he could never be the odd one out in this house. And he’s the nicest man you could imagine. In fact, it would be lovely to have him here tonight, and my mum—”

“Adele told me about the way he looks at you.”

Her heart missed a beat. “What do you mean?”

“Like he fancies you! His eyes follow you round the room. He stands a little bit too close when he’s speaking to you. He touches you more than a normal person would.”

Joe was talking rubbish, and Adele was stirring things up to pave the way for a reconciliation between her parents. “Meeko is warm, affectionate and touchy-feely. But he’s like that with everyone.”

“Adele says he’s different with you.”

Joe’s jealousy of Meeko’s close friendship with her was misplaced and, by voicing it, he was spoiling what might remain of her relationship with her best friend. “On second thoughts, with all this rubbish in your head, having him here tonight wouldn’t be a good idea. You’d read things into him giving me a new year kiss or us holding hands for Auld Lang Syne . And I don’t want Mum here either if there’s these horrible undercurrents of tension between us.”

No visitors were invited and an unhealthy, claustrophobic atmosphere hung over the three adults and one baby as the light faded and the last evening of the year began. Fiona felt it was her responsibility to elevate the mood — this was her house and Joe and Adele were guests rather than permanent residents. She suggested ordering a Chinese and a bottle of prosecco to open at midnight.

“Yes to the food,” said Adele, pacing the floor with a restless Natalie, “but, fingers crossed, I’ll be asleep by midnight. And it says in the book that fizz and alcohol don’t agree with babies.”

“Fiona wasn’t offering it to Natalie.” Joe’s voice was sharp following their earlier disagreement over Meeko.

“Duh! Put your brain in, Dad. I’m talking about Natalie getting it second-hand through my milk.”

“Food for three but maybe a bottle of red for two?” Fiona looked at Joe, willing his attitude to settle so that, once mother and baby had gone to bed, they could cosy up on the sofa and salvage something of their previous relationship, now lost or buried through too much domesticity.

Joe shrugged.

Why did men so rarely admit when they were wrong? He was still smarting over Adele’s comment about the milk and probably would do all evening.

Joe went to collect a set meal for three because nobody had the brain power to think about individual dishes. Fiona warmed plates and set the table. As a nod to the date on the calendar, she added a couple of candles and dimmed the lights just enough to make it feel like an occasion, but not enough to make Adele feel like an intruder at a dinner for two. Then, before she could overthink it, she sent a message to Meeko wishing him a pleasant evening whatever he was doing, and hoping they could arrange to breakfast together in the next few days because she’d timed it wrong and missed him every morning for ages. She hoped this wasn’t because the hotel had dispensed with his services completely but she didn’t articulate that in the message.

Adele had soothed Natalie to sleep in the cot ten minutes before Joe arrived back with the white plastic carriers of food. But she started wailing again before they’d finished the starter of Peking duck with pancakes. The coloured lights on the monitor flashed in synch with the noise. Adele groaned and pretended to bang her head on the table.

“I’ll go,” Fiona said.

Adele mouthed a silent thank you and Fiona caught the sigh of relief that Joe unconsciously released. Upstairs, Natalie calmed as soon as she was picked up.

“I think you like to be in company, don’t you? Like any other person,” Fiona crooned gently. “But my dinner’s going cold downstairs and I’m hungry.” Natalie’s eyes closed in response to Fiona’s gentle noises and the rocking movement of continuously taking the four steps between the spare room’s door and its window. “Now I’m going to lie you down again and you’re going to stay asleep, aren’t you?”

Fiona hadn’t even reached the landing before the infant started crying again. She sighed and returned to the cot. “I’m going to have to take you downstairs with me, aren’t I?” Natalie stared at her with wide, innocent eyes and Fiona thought she detected the slightest of nods. She grinned at the infant’s audacity. She held the baby closer and showered her downy head with kisses. Then she stopped suddenly — the usual sadness she felt when holding Natalie was gone. Fiona was falling in love and bonding with a baby that wasn’t hers, and who, depending on the longevity of the relationship between her and Joe, or on what happened when Rose returned, might be snatched away. Adele’s circumstances would change in the next few months. For the young woman’s own sake, Fiona wanted her to live independently, or at least somewhere with more space, and at that point their shaky relationship might crack and Natalie would no longer be in her life. Fiona couldn’t get close to this child and then lose her. Once in a lifetime was enough. She put Natalie in the car seat to carry her downstairs — close physical contact with the infant was dangerous.

She deliberately placed the seat on the floor next to Joe, who had finished his starter and was scrolling through his phone. Adele had finished as well. She’d pushed the plate to one side and had her head on the table with her eyes closed. The duck pancakes in front of Fiona were cold now. She pushed her plate away too. Joe put his phone down and looked at her and then across at Adele and then he rolled his eyes. Fiona got the message — he was trying to tell her they could’ve gone out for the evening after all. Fiona shook her head and indicated the carry-seat. As if on cue, Natalie started crying. Adele’s head immediately jolted upwards. Fiona passed the infant over to her mother. “Cuddle her for a few minutes while your dad clears the starters and gets the mains from the oven.” Joe grunted and groaned as he stood up. “I’ve got the warming tray heating up in the kitchen as well,” Fiona continued. “Bring that in first and then at least we can keep everything hot if Natalie slows down proceedings.”

Proceedings didn’t just slow down, they ground to a halt. Leisurely eating and a bit of fun with the chopsticks Fiona had found at the back of her cutlery drawer were abandoned. Natalie was the most unsettled she’d been since they’d brought her home two days earlier. Joe kept his head focused on his plate, but the whites of his knuckles could be seen in the grip on his cutlery. Adele and Fiona switched the baby between them at regular intervals, Adele shovelling food into her mouth in between turns while constantly glancing at her daughter. When it was Fiona’s turn to eat, she tried to force her knotted stomach to relax and take food. She ate small mouthfuls so she might remember something of what she ate. And all the time in the background were Natalie’s wails.

“For heaven’s sake! Can’t one of you shut her up!” For a few seconds Joe got silence as all three female heads swivelled towards his outburst. “I can’t sit in this uproar all night.” He levered himself up to standing.

It was like discovering that Santa Claus is a myth, that the tooth fairy is a lie and that there never was such a thing as the Easter Bunny — all in the same split second. In small doses, and without the baggage of his domestic needs, whims and foibles, Joe had been the perfect occasional companion — the significant other who made her feel good about herself and her life choices, and who didn’t need to undergo the public scrutiny of others or live up to anyone else’s expectations. Now she saw his true colours and how he reacted when the chips were down. And it wasn’t good. It was unforgivably awful. Maybe his attitude to Natalie seemed worse because she still carried Amber in her heart. But Joe had raised two of his own children, he had a wealth of experience that neither she nor Adele had, but, apart from his absolute besottedness and photography session on first meeting his granddaughter, he had kept well back from the front line. “If Rose was here, we wouldn’t be trying to enjoy a nice meal and a bottle of wine—” he gestured at the bottle of red, which so far had only made its way into his glass — “with this cacophony in the background.”

Adele joined in with Natalie’s sobs.

“And what exactly would Rose have done in this situation?” If humans had hackles, Fiona’s were raised.

He shrugged. “Don’t ask me the details. I’m not a woman. But she always advocated that if the parent is relaxed then the baby will be too. Put Natalie down and take ten minutes to have a drink and finish your food. Both of you.” He had calmed his voice a little but the last sentence came out like an order. Fiona expected him to step forward and take his granddaughter, but he sat back down, topped up his wine and then poured some for both Fiona and his daughter.

Adele looked close to tears as she strapped Natalie back into the car seat. She ignored the wine her father pushed towards her — Well done you, Adele. Stick to your guns — and concentrated on her food. Joe handed a glass filled too full to Fiona. To avoid a messy accident on her virgin white tablecloth she was forced to take it and start sipping before it slopped over the edges. She closed her eyes and tried to savour the richness trickling down her throat. She drank some more. Maybe it was psychological but the tight band of tension across her shoulders and the ball that had been in her stomach since the meal began eased. Maybe there was something in Rose’s philosophy. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find only a centimetre of liquid left in the glass. Joe was smiling at her.

“What did I tell you? Even from a distance, Rose knows best.”

“Please stop mentioning Rose.” Fiona spoke sharply.

“Fiona’s right, Dad. It’s not helpful to praise your ex-wife in front of your current girlfriend.”

Wow! Thank you, Adele. She shot her daughter-by-proxy a grateful glance.

Natalie was still crying but it didn’t seem to penetrate Fiona’s brain quite so much. She put a hand over the sudden growl of her empty stomach and understood the sudden effect of the wine.

“Now eat.” Joe spoke without acknowledging the remarks of either Fiona or Adele.

Fiona obeyed. She spooned egg-fried rice, lemon chicken, garlic vegetables and beef in black bean sauce onto her plate. Joe refilled her glass and then brandished the bottle. “I’ll fetch another — it is New Year’s Eve after all.”

“Dad . . .” Adele was frowning and blowing her nose. “I might need some help, and if you’re both—”

“Nonsense. You’re doing brilliantly.”

Another realisation hit Fiona. Joe said whatever suited him at that moment in time. When Adele had been struggling to bathe Natalie it had suited his needs to ask Fiona to take over and thus silence the anguished cries of his daughter. Now he didn’t want to drink alone, plus he wanted some built-in insulation from the baby’s cries, and so he told Adele that she was more than capable, thus encouraging Fiona to let herself go on the alcohol front.

In the meantime, Natalie had fallen silent and was staring directly at Joe as he raised the new bottle over Fiona’s glass. As soon as he started pouring, she screamed as though she’d been stabbed. Adele was on her feet immediately, unbuckling and taking the infant in her arms. Pacing backwards and forwards reduced the ferocity of the noise but it was still constant, in the background, like tinnitus.

“I’ll try feeding and changing her again.” The anguished girl and baby disappeared upstairs.

“Thank goodness for that.” She hoped Joe’s words emanated from the bottle and not his heart. He headed for the sofa.

“We should clear up.” Fiona gestured at the table with its litter of plates and cartons.

“It’ll go straight in the bin.” He was fiddling with the remote now.

“It may have escaped your notice but we didn’t use disposable plates, cutlery or glasses.” Despite all her wonderful maternal and domestic skills, Rose had been a complete failure at housetraining her husband. Or maybe she’d wanted to keep him dependent on her? No. No woman would want to wait on her man like this.

Joe failed to respond to the sarcasm in her voice. Maybe he didn’t even notice it. Fiona was past caring. She cleared the table and washed up.

Thirty minutes later Adele was back downstairs with Natalie just as noisy as when they’d left. “She’s had a feed and I’ve changed her nappy but still she won’t settle. And I’m soooo tired.”

Fiona wanted to offer to take the infant while Adele caught a couple of hours sleep but, after her realisation that the Joe she’d previously enjoyed in small doses was slipping between the cracks, she was afraid to get too close to his granddaughter. A granddaughter who may be out of bounds very soon.

“Dad! I don’t know what to do with her.”

Joe looked surprised at this direct appeal for help. “We could take her for a drive — that makes babies nod off, doesn’t it?”

“And who would drive? You’ve had far too much, plus you encouraged Fiona.”

Fiona thought guiltily about her second glass, which she’d finished without thinking. Now she had to make the offer. “Let me take her and you get your head down for a couple of hours. We’ll manage this if we take it in shifts.” Adele looked at her with relief. Joe shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the drama they were making out of caring for this tiny being.

After the departure of her mother, Natalie grew even more vocal and restless. Pacing up and down the room had no effect. Swinging her gently in the car seat didn’t quieten her. After a while Joe put his hands over his ears. Fiona ignored him.

Finally, he spoke. “OK, let me take her.” His tone implied that he’d given Fiona her opportunity to prove herself and she’d failed so now he’d show her how it was done.

He cradled Natalie’s head in one hand and held her upright against his shoulder in the other. To start with, he swayed from side to side, then he walked, then he tried jiggling, attempted some gentle crooning and, finally, after a whole five minutes, handed her back to Fiona. “She must be ill,” he said confidently. “There’s no other explanation.”

“Ill! No, please no!” Adele was back in the room and rushing towards Fiona and her daughter.

“He’s probably wrong.” Fiona glared at Joe and then back to Adele. “And you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“I can’t sleep while I can hear her crying.”

“That means you are definitely a good mum,” Fiona whispered to the increasingly distraught young woman. Then she spoke more normally. “I don’t think she’s ill. There’s no sign of a temperature or floppiness or anything else the books tell you about.”

“You’ve read books about babies?” Adele’s eyes were wide.

It would be so easy to share Amber with Adele. After the girl’s support of Fiona over Joe’s mentions of Rose, it felt possible even. But she couldn’t do it now, with Joe there. His behaviour tonight had removed the last scales from her eyes. He wouldn’t understand. “Friends had babies. I did the odd spot of babysitting for them and tried to keep abreast of things.”

“I can’t take this stress for much longer. We need someone who knows about babies.” Joe’s voice was impatient.

You’ve supposedly brought up two yourself.

“What about Dorothea?” Adele’s face brightened a little as she spoke. “We could phone her. It’s not too late.”

Fiona put the old lady on speakerphone. Her mother was delighted to be approached for expert advice but could offer no suggestions other than what they’d already tried. “Sometimes it needs a person to hold her who’s not so emotionally invested,” she said finally. “You three are stressed and at your wits’ end. Little Natalie might have sensed that. If you could fetch me over, it might make a difference. No guarantees, but it could be worth a try.”

“That would be great, Dorothea.” The younger woman’s shoulders were visibly dropping back a little from their hunched position.

“But neither Joe nor I are fit to drive.”

“I’m sorting an Uber right now.” Adele’s fingers moved fast over the screen of her smartphone. “We’re in luck! Everyone who’s going out has gone, but there’s still a couple of hours until midnight and the massive rush.”