26. Molly
Chapter 26
Molly
I t is October already, the day of her own gender-reveal scan fast approaching, and, after six weeks, Molly has just had the plaster removed from her wrist. She wriggles her hand about, happy to have it back in full working order again, and thinks how lucky they are to still have nice enough weather for a picnic in the park, even if it means keeping coats on and bringing umbrellas just in case.
She has invested in a special two-tier carrying case, so she can safely transport the sample cupcakes and the tin containing Jo’s son’s rocket birthday cake on the bus, but it’s heavier than she had anticipated and her wrist, unused to doing the work lately, is aching, even though she has tried to take most of the weight in her other hand. She has had to stop for a few minutes to put everything down and catch her breath. Maybe she should have looked for something with wheels.
She spots Rosie ahead of her, pressing the button at the school gate, and rushes to catch up with her.
‘Hello,’ Rosie calls, waving a hand before returning it to the handle of the double buggy she is struggling to manoeuvre through the gate. She seems to manage it with a sideways shunt of her hip before Molly can help her, and holds the gate open for Molly to follow her through. ‘They should warn people that you need a special driving test before getting let loose with one of these buggers,’ she says with a laugh. ‘Oh, sorry. I meant buggies, obviously! Anyway, far more importantly, I can see that you’ve brought cake. Lovely!’
Molly nods towards the bag over her shoulder. ‘And a rug and sandwiches, fizzy water, some fresh fruit salad…’
‘You could do with a buggy yourself, just to carry stuff in. And you put me to shame. I’ve only grabbed a packet of biscuits and an apple. Oh, I’ve got plenty of milk with me, for these two. Didn’t have time to sort out a lot for myself. Somehow their needs always come first these days, but you’ll find that out soon enough.’
‘I’m happy to share. I’ve brought far too much.’
‘You can never have too much when it comes to food. Especially cake. See you after our sessions, okay? If yours finishes after ours, the park’s literally just round that corner. We’ll be under the biggest tree.’
Molly signs the register at the reception desk and goes into the room where the antenatal class is held. It’s a bit less daunting the second time around. There is a screen set up at the front, and the chairs have been laid out in a small horseshoe shape, so they are probably going to watch a video. Nothing too gory, she hopes. She recognises a few faces from last time and nods hello, then settles herself in a chair in the second row. This doesn’t quite seem the time to start touting for business, but she grips a small bundle of her new Secret Centres business cards in her pocket and decides to try broaching the subject when they stop for tea and biscuits and a chat at the end.
The film is about some of the changes they can all expect in their bodies over the coming months. About stretch marks and feeling tired and food cravings. She smiles to herself as some of the women mutter about fancying dried apricots or tinned pears or lumps of coal. One has started licking at ice cubes while she watches TV and another admits to sending her husband out at midnight in the rain to try and track down a Mars bar, because nothing else would do.
When the refreshments come out and Molly opens up her case and offers them some of her cakes, they all turn their noses up at the plate of custard creams provided and pounce on her as if they haven’t eaten for a week.
‘Mmm, pink and blue. What a brilliant idea.’
‘Ooh, they’re great. Sign me up for a dozen of those.’
‘I’ll be phoning you just as soon as I’ve had the scan.’
‘Yummy. I do hope I’m having a girl, cos the pink sponge is just so pretty.’
The compliments and the orders are flying in fast. Everyone is taking a card, or several so they can share with their friends. One girl works for the local newspaper and promises to be in touch about a feature and some free advertising. Molly gives them a sneak peek at Jo’s commissioned rocket cake too, and there’s another round of excited chatter and requests for a cake made to look like a garden shed and another like a pair of ballet shoes.
She notices the class leader, in her blue nurse’s uniform, listening in at the back of the crowd, and worries that she shouldn’t really be hijacking the class like this, until the woman steps forward and asks about a retirement cake for one of her midwife colleagues, and if it would be indelicate to ask for a cake with a model of a newborn baby on top, with umbilical cord still attached. She knows it will appeal to the woman’s sense of humour. Molly laughs along with her and assures her that with icing just about anything is possible, and that she will enjoy making something a bit different for a change. Another card changes hands.
Molly closes the case before everything gets devoured. She wants to make sure there are enough cupcakes left for the girls at the picnic. By the time they all start to collect coats and bags, she feels she has gained not only new clients but more new friends too.
‘So, how is everything? Bump growing? Skin glowing?’ Her mum is on the phone later that afternoon, trying so hard to be a part of a pregnancy she is missing out on seeing develop in the flesh.
‘All fine, Mum.’
‘And London? Are you settling in yet? I hate to think of you all alone when the baby comes.’
‘I won’t be alone. I have Jack.’
‘Of course you do, but he’ll be at work, won’t he? And it can be lonely, being at home all day with just a baby for company. I remember it well. Still, at least I had my mother close by, and my sisters.’
‘I wish we were nearer, Mum, and that you could pop in whenever you want to, but that’s not going to be easy, is it? I have made some friends though. Other mums, and mums-to-be. We had a picnic at lunchtime today. Lots of babies for me to practise on! It was a bit chilly, but I really enjoyed it.’
‘Oh, that’s nice.’
‘And the wrist is better, the plaster came off yesterday, so that makes everything a bit easier. Maybe I could come up there for a few days soon, before I get too huge to travel! I’ve been busy building up the cake business and it’s early days, I know, but I think I can make it work. I’ve got quite a few birthday cakes to make, and lots of people want to order the gender-reveal ones once they’ve been scanned, but I’m sure I can find a few days to slot you in!’
‘That would be lovely, Molly. We do miss you, you know. Me and your dad, all your friends. And the dog.’
‘And I miss all of you. Let me check with Jack when he gets home. And if he can’t get a few days off, I can always come by myself. The beauty of not having a boss to have to please! And I promise not to break any bones this time.’
‘You’d better not. You keep that little grandson of mine safe now, you hear?’
‘I will, Mum. But it could be a girl, you know. I keep telling you that.’
‘Nonsense. I’m never wrong, you’ll see. So, I won’t be needing any of your special gender thingies. Not to tell me something I already know.’
Molly puts the phone down and sits for a while with a cup of tea. Is it a boy? Her mum will be having her believing it too, if she’s not careful, but with a fifty–fifty chance either way, it won’t be that big a miracle if she’s right. Before long, Molly’s eyes are starting to close. Despite being in London, their street is surprisingly quiet. Unless she opens a window, she can’t hear the traffic. It should make it easier when she’s trying to get a baby to sleep, or catching up with her own sleep between feeds. She has watched the twin mums and seen how manic everything can get. At least she’s only having one.
Her dreams, in which she is being chased by a giant rabbit wearing ballet shoes and a nappy, are interrupted, thankfully, by the door slamming shut as Jack comes in from work.
‘Busy day?’ she asks, yawning.
He nods, and comes over to peck her on the cheek. She notices that he smells faintly of beer but chooses not to mention it. So, he’s had a quick drink on his way home. Alcohol is the last thing she fancies nowadays, not that it would be allowed if she did.
‘You too, by the look of it. What’s tired you out? I don’t smell any baking.’
‘No, I had my antenatal class today, and then a picnic with some of the women I’ve met. I did tell you this morning.’
‘Did you? Sorry. Let me get changed and then you can tell me all about it. The class, especially, and anything you think I should know.’
‘There’s so much to know you wouldn’t believe! This whole pregnancy thing is a revelation, Jack. Stretch marks and constipation and chomping on lumps of coal in the middle of the night, and we haven’t even started talking about the actual birth yet. Pain relief and pushing and piles! I’m just glad it’s us women having to cope with the pregnancy and not you men, or it would never happen.’
‘You’re right there.’ She sees Jack shudder as he disappears into the bedroom.
She glances at the clock and is surprised to see it’s already nearly seven. Jack’s home later than usual and she’s been asleep for ages. She’s done nothing about dinner. She can’t keep using being pregnant as an excuse to put her feet up and live on takeaways. There’s a chicken pie in the freezer, and some frozen chips, and the fridge is bursting with far more carrots than feels anywhere near normal. When she comes to think about it, she has been nibbling on them quite a bit lately, just washed under the tap and eaten raw. It occurs to her that she may have found her own pregnancy craving. Still, at least it’s a healthy one, and, if the tales her mother used to spin her can be believed, it could just help her to see better in the dark, which will come in handy for night-time nappy changes. No wonder she was dreaming about rabbits!