CHAPTER THREE
Next morning, I went through the motions almost on auto pilot, getting Amelie ready for nursery school.
I’d had a restless night after my shock at the market, and when I’d finally fallen asleep, I’d dreamed that I was back at school and my two best friends had turned against me, leaving me alone and on the verge of tears in the playground.
When I woke with the alarm, I lay there feeling too groggy to move, as the youthful heartbreak I’d felt in my dream slowly receded. Throwing back the duvet took quite some effort.
But Amelie, possibly sensing my mood, was perfectly behaved for once. She ate a whole bowl of the healthy cereal (not once complaining that she liked the chocolate crispy one better) and then went off to clean her teeth without me having to prompt her.
Now, we stood at the open front door as I helped her into her summer cardigan, and I breathed in the calming scent of lavender from the pot nearby, thinking about my shift later at the café.
I didn’t have to be there until eleven, so after I’d dropped Amelie at nursery school, I could relax a little over a strong coffee and try to wake myself up.
Our lovely neighbours – Pauline and Nigel – came out of their house and we waved to each other as they headed down the drive to their car.
‘Mummy?’
‘Yes, love?’
‘That man has a baby in his tummy. Why does it never come out?’
Looking at Nigel’s admittedly rather rounded belly, I fought to hide a smile. Thankfully, they were too far away to have heard Amelie’s innocent question.
‘Um... Nigel isn’t pregnant, love. He... well, sometimes people get big tummies when they like their food too much.’ Or their beer, in Nigel’s case.
‘I like my food too much and I don’t have a big tummy,’ said Amelie with a perplexed frown.
‘No, you don’t, my love. You’re perfect in every way.
’ I smiled down at her, my heart swelling with love.
Thanks to my daughter, I was actually starting to feel human again.
Hopefully yesterday’s scare had been a one-off and it wouldn’t happen again.
I’d probably been mistaken, anyway. It was a distance away.
Just one face in a crowd. And the car I’d thought I recognised could have belonged to anyone.
After all, I saw my lovely Mark everywhere I went – even though of course I knew logically that it was impossible – so I was used to the sudden, heart-pounding reaction followed swiftly by a feeling of despair and embarrassment.
I’d catch a glimpse of red hair on a tall, athletic-looking man, and my heart would lurch with sudden hope – only for it to be dashed next second when he turned around.
I’d once run after someone, all the way along Risley Common High Street, convinced in a moment of madness that it was actually Mark.
Afterwards, I felt ridiculous and so shaken that I had to rush into the nearby park and find a lonely bench where I could break down and let the tears flow.
I never let Amelie see me cry, though. I’d save that for after she’d gone to bed. ..
‘Right, come on, love,’ I said briskly now. ‘Let’s get going. We don’t want to be late for nursery.’
*****
Later that afternoon, I walked out of the café kitchen with a plate of delicious freshly-baked sultana scones, still warm from the oven, to find Maisie, Ellie’s step-daughter, sitting at a table in the corner.
She had some reading and colouring books beside her but she looked as if she was playing a game on her phone.
I recalled the conversation we’d had a few days earlier on the village green, sitting on the bench by the duck pond.
Maisie had been staying with Jaz and Milo for a few days, to give Ellie time to concentrate on the new baby, and I’d kept her company on the bench while Jaz nipped back into the café to collect some muffins for their tea.
Among other things, we’d talked about what it was like for Maisie to finally have the little sister she’d longed for and she’d smiled and said it was great.
When I asked how school was going, she’d given me a fed-up look.
‘Not great, huh?’ I said with a sympathetic smile.
She shrugged. ‘School’s all right.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s just... well, life . It’s so complicated sometimes.’
‘You’re right there,’ I’d murmured in hearty agreement.
‘All these thoughts keep racing around inside my head and I can’t sort of pin them down. Do you know what I mean?’ She gave a dramatic shrug. ‘Honestly, Rosie, I’m a monumental disaster.’
‘Oh, dear. Is this just a recent thing, feeling like this?’
She sighed. ‘Yes. Lots of things are changing and I don’t know what I think about it all. I sometimes wish I could have my old life back.’
I nodded. ‘It can be tough when things change. But you know, sometimes what seems really bad at first can turn out to be okay in the end.’
‘Like what?’ she asked.
‘Well... I was really, really sad when I lost my husband, Mark. He was ill and then he died. And for a long time, I didn’t know what I was going to do without him.
I didn’t trust myself to look after Amelie properly on my own.
But then eventually, I found a strength inside me that I didn’t realise was there.
And now we’re doing just fine, Amelie and me. ’
‘That’s good.’
‘Writing in a diary really helped me when I was sad.’
‘A diary? Like Anne Frank? We were learning about her at school.’
‘Yes, exactly. A diary helped Anne Frank when her whole world was turned upside down. Maybe you could write about how you’re feeling just now? It might help you to make sense of your up-and-down emotions?’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘That’s a good idea. Thank you.’
I’d smiled at her. ‘You’re very welcome.’
Jaz had rushed over at that moment, waving a bag of muffins from the café. ‘You two seem deep in conversation,’ she laughed. ‘I hate to interrupt.’
‘We were just talking about keeping a diary,’ I’d explained. ‘How it can really help to pour out your feelings on paper.’
‘Oh, it can.’ A sentimental look had settled on Jaz’s face. ‘I owned a lovely pink diary with a golden lock on it when I was your age, Maisie.’
‘There, you see.’ I’d smiled encouragingly at Maisie and when she went off with Jaz, she turned and grinned and stuck up her thumb at me.
Now, as I put the plate of scones under a glass dome on the countertop, I smiled across at her when she looked up from whatever she was doing – her homework, maybe.
‘Is Ellie here?’ I asked Maddy, who was busy clearing tables in the café.
‘Not yet. Jaz just dropped Maisie here and Ellie’s collecting her.
’ She glanced over at Maisie, who was frowning over her workbook, concentrating hard.
‘She should have been here a while ago... oh, here she comes now.’ She moved across to the window and peered out and I saw Ellie’s car drive up. ‘She’s bringing baby Isla.’
‘Oh, lovely! I haven’t met the new arrival yet.’
We lingered by the door, waiting for them to emerge.
The café was relatively quiet. The customers who were in were regulars who knew Ellie well, so they would no doubt be happy to join the eager little welcome party!
Ellie was leaning into the back seat for quite a while, obviously seeing to Isla. Then she looked back and waved at us standing in the doorway. Straightening, she carefully lifted out the baby carrier, slipping the handle over one arm and closing the car door.
‘Doesn’t she look amazing?’ Maddy murmured in awe. ‘I love her sunglasses and that pale blue trouser suit she’s wearing.’
‘Incredible.’ Katja grinned. ‘And very daring, considering babies tend to throw up at all the wrong moments. Practical trainers on her feet, though. Very good,’ she noted.
I chuckled. ‘I doubt she’ll be wearing heels again until Isla has left for uni,’ I joked.
‘Yeah.’ Maddy grinned. ‘Too much chasing around after her until then.’
‘Absolutely. I lived in the same comfy stuff for years after Amelie was born. In fact, nothing much changes. As soon as I get home, the bra’s coming off and it’s casual all the way.’
They both laughed, and Maddy ushered in Ellie and the baby. ‘We’re just saying you seem to be bucking the trend,’ she said. ‘Because you do not look like a woman who gave birth so recently.’
‘Well... thanks.’ Ellie smiled. ‘I thought I’d make the effort. It’s not every day you introduce your new daughter into café society.’
Chuckling, we gathered around as Ellie placed the sleeping baby in her carrier on a table in the window and sank down in a chair with a sigh. She drew a deep breath in and looked around the café. ‘She fell asleep on the way over so I’m afraid she’s not being very sociable at the moment.’
‘Oh, she’s absolutely gorgeous,’ breathed Katja.
I nodded. ‘She really is. Look at those perfectly formed, tiny little hands, and that rosebud mouth of hers is just adorable.’
‘I don’t want to wake her but I’d love to have a hold of her,’ whispered Maddy.
‘Oh. No, no. Another time?’ Despite the sunglasses, I could feel Ellie’s alarm and I smiled to myself. I knew from experience that babies’ sleep times could be a little erratic and you certainly didn’t want them disturbed once perfect peace had briefly fallen!
‘Absolutely.’ Maddy nodded. ‘Anyway, what can I get you? Your usual cappuccino with lots of chocolate flakes on top?’
‘Er . . . no. Just a double espresso please.’
‘I relied on caffeine to help me through,’ I admitted ruefully, sitting down briefly to chat.
‘I found it all really tough at first, being a first-time mum, and eventually I was diagnosed with postnatal depression.’ I smiled.
‘Things got better after that. How are you finding it, Ellie? The new routine?’
‘Oh, fine, thanks.’ She waved her hand airily. ‘No problems at all, really. A bit tired, of course, but nothing to complain about.’
‘That’s good.’ I nodded, thinking back to my own experience. ‘You look as if you’re coping much better than I did.’