CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I spotted Ellie immediately I arrived in Sunnybrook. And very quickly after that, as I scanned the area for a parking space, the plaintive cries of baby Isla reached me.
My heart plummeted, aware of what a distressed Ellie must be feeling.
I remembered that sound so clearly and the despair it induced in me at the time.
The constant crying meant I was a bad mother because I couldn’t comfort my own daughter or work out what she needed.
I was wrong, of course. But that’s what I’d believed at the time and no one – not even Mark – could convince me otherwise.
I parked alongside the village green and crossed over the road to the bench, where Ellie was desperately trying to soothe Isla, holding her against her shoulder and gently rubbing her back. But the baby still cried and Ellie looked distraught.
Her smart pale blue trouser suit looked rather out of place, as if she was on her way to a wedding. Although when I got closer, I could see that she seemed to be wearing a pyjama top – pink with black stars on it – underneath the jacket.
‘Hi!’ Breathless, I sat down on the bench, turning to face her. ‘I came as soon as I could. Are you okay?’
The look she gave me was so full of despair, I felt tears of sympathetic recognition springing to my eyes. ‘It’s so hard at times, isn’t it?’ I murmured, giving her knee a gentle squeeze. ‘When they cry and you have absolutely no idea why.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve done everything I can think of.
I was up five times during the night to her and she’s been crying almost non-stop since she woke at nine.
In the end I thought I’d bring her out in the pram because then maybe she’d fall asleep.
So I drove over here, but I forgot to bring the changing gear and the expressed milk from the fridge.
I just didn’t think.’ She was jiggling Isla rather desperately now.
‘And I’ll have to go back to the house now because I think she might need her nappy changed.
And oh, Rosie, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. ’
‘Hey, there’s nothing at all to be sorry about.’
‘I just suddenly remembered how hard you said you’d found it after Amelie was born, that day I brought Isla to the café, and I called you without thinking. I didn’t even ask if you were busy when I phoned.’
‘Well, I wasn’t busy, okay? And I’m really glad you called me.
When you’re a new mother it can seem horribly bewildering at first because you feel a bit helpless.
But the thing to realise is that almost all new mums feel that way so you’re definitely not alone.
’ Gently, I took Isla from her, lifted the baby up and smiled at her.
Then I bounced her gently on my knee, and suddenly, the crying stopped.
‘See?’ Far from being relieved, Ellie looked even more desperate. ‘ You know what to do for her. Look, she’s stopped crying already.’
‘I can assure you it was just pure luck,’ I told her with a smile, feeling ridiculously guilty at the same time. ‘Passing her to me was probably what broke the cycle.’
As if she knew what I was saying, Isla’s little face crumpled and she started wailing again.
‘There, you see. You’re not the only one who doesn’t have the magic touch.’ I glanced at the pram. ‘How about we pop her in the pram and rock her and maybe wheel her up and down a bit? She might be tired. You never know, she might drop off.’
Ellie looked unconvinced and too fatigued to even get up from the bench.
‘Come on. It’s worth a try,’ I murmured encouragingly. ‘We’ll get you both home and then you can have a nice rest while I see to Isla. How about that?’
She nodded, looking at me tearfully and allowing me to take control.
And thankfully, by the time we arrived at Ellie’s car, after a little promenade up and down the high street, an exhausted Isla – her little arms stretched up by her head in true baby pose – had fallen fast asleep in the pram.
As we carefully transferred her to the back seat of Ellie’s car, she didn’t stir.
I told Ellie I’d follow her back to Bogg House, although when she got back behind the wheel, I had a moment’s hesitation wondering if I should do the driving.
But she seemed calmer now. And in fact, when I gave her a cheery thumbs up through the window, she smiled for the first time since I got there.
It seemed like the genuinely grateful smile of someone so relieved to have been rescued – and my heart clenched, wondering what Ellie had been going through these past few months, trying to pretend that everything was all right and she was in control, when underneath she’d been panicking, thinking she was making a total pig’s ear of being a new mother.
I’d felt all those emotions myself.
Why on earth hadn’t I thought to peer beneath the facade? Then I might have realised that beneath the brave show, Ellie really wasn’t coping and needed help?
*****
Back at Bogg House, I took control again to take the pressure off Ellie, taking little Isla inside and laying her in her Moses basket in the nursery.
When I came back downstairs, Ellie was still standing in the hallway, wearing the glazed look of someone who’s been sleep-deprived for weeks, so I guided her into the living room and plumped cushions so she could flake out on the sofa.
‘Nice cup of tea?’ I suggested and she nodded gratefully. But as I walked to the door, she sat up, looking at me in alarm.
‘No! The kitchen . . .’
‘What about it?’
‘It’s a tip. I haven’t had time to clean up.’
‘Which is perfectly natural. I think I’d be really worried about you if everything was spick and span, given the fact that you just had a baby! It just wouldn’t be normal.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I’ve been clearing up only when I knew someone was coming to see me. I wasn’t expecting you to be here today.’
‘Well, unless I get felled by a falling stack of dirty mugs, I think I’ll be all right,’ I joked.
She smiled. ‘More likely to be a pile of dirty washing,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve been shoving it away out of sight in a cupboard so I could pretend to Zak I had things under control.’
‘Right, well, it’s time to stop that and just start admitting you’re human!’ I grinned at her. ‘Now, if I’m not back in five minutes you’ll know I’m still hunting for the kettle,’ I joked.
She laughed at that. ‘The kitchen’s not that messy. Honestly.’
I made tea for us both, clearing the worktops and stacking the dishwasher while I waited for the kettle to boil. Then I found the wash basket and sorted it into whites and coloureds.
‘I’ve put towels and bibs and baby-gros in the washing-machine but you’ll have to set it off because I’m rubbish at working things,’ I told her with a smile, handing her a mug.
‘Thanks, Rosie.’ She made to get up but I gently stopped her.
‘Drink your tea first or it’ll get cold. I don’t know how many cups of lukewarm tea I poured down the sink in my baby days! You have to put yourself first sometimes – especially when Isla is sleeping.’
Ellie settled back with a sigh. ‘Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come to my rescue. I’ve been in such a bad space, trying to pretend to everyone – even to my own husband – that I was coping fine when I really wasn’t.’
She looked at me sadly. ‘I’m floundering, Rosie.
I’m on the ground and I don’t know how to get up again.
It just seems so... pathetic ... after everything we went through.
.. all the tests and injections and the highs and the lows of IVF.
I honestly thought I’d be bouncing around with joy, taking it all in my stride, once Isla arrived.
I mean, she’s healthy and perfect... beyond my wildest dreams. But somehow. ..’ She shrugged helplessly.
‘I know,’ I said softly. ‘It’s all so bewildering, isn’t it?
When it happened to me, I hated myself for not being able to cope.
After I was diagnosed with postnatal depression, Mark had to take over most days, bless him, even though he was ill at the time – coping with the horrible condition that eventually took him from us. ’
Tears sprang to Ellie’s eyes as she reached for my hand. ‘Oh, Rosie, I’m so sorry. You must have felt as if your whole world was caving in on you.’
I nodded, thinking back to that terrible time.
I sometimes found myself wondering if what I went through back then – the depression and Mark dying – was a contributing factor in what came next. But wasn’t that just an excuse for bad behaviour? I still couldn’t forgive myself...
‘I’m so lucky, really,’ said Ellie softly. ‘I’ve got Zak to share the high and the lows, haven’t I? He’s a brilliant dad. He’s working so hard on his latest book, hoping it’s a success so he can shoulder the financial burden and let me have as much time off as possible with Isla.’
‘You should talk to Zak. Tell him the truth about how you feel,’ I urged.
‘But I need to be able to handle Isla myself while he works, don’t I? I don’t want him distracted by nappies and housework and all that stuff. I was determined to prove I could do all that myself. Even if it was just a facade.’
‘You certainly had us all fooled.’
‘Really?’
I smiled. ‘Yeah, we all had you down as some kind of weird Supermum. “Weird” in the sense that it really wasn’t normal! I should have realised some of it was an act.’
‘ All of it!’ she corrected me.
‘So are you going to talk to Zak? Tell him how you’re really feeling?’
She nodded. ‘I need help. There. I’ve admitted it.’
‘That’s a great start. Admitting it. And you’ve got a brilliant husband and loads of friends who’ll be delighted to help with Isla. She’s so gorgeous.’
Ellie smiled weakly. ‘I guess I need to let go of this desperation to be... well, Supermum.’
‘You do. And may I be the first to welcome you into the club.’
‘The club?’
I grinned at her. ‘The club for New-Mums-Who-Haven’t-Got-A-Bloody-Clue-What’s-Just-Hit-Them!’