Chapter 16
Completion date on the house finally arrived – a minor London miracle. As she and Don went to pick up the keys and make the journey up town to their new home, Bella felt very nervous. They’d just spent an absolute fortune buying property in an area they’d only driven through.
But, to her relief, Don looked relaxed, breezy almost.
She was wearing the most glamorous maternity clothes she could muster, black leather trousers and soft white tunic underneath a new grey fur-collared coat. But a seven-month bulge was no longer elegant. She was starting to feel heavy on her feet and it was some effort to clamber up into the Jeep.
They were visiting the house in the morning, then she was meeting the doula for the first time this afternoon to discuss hiring her. She’d ummed and ahhed about having Don at the meeting, then decided no, she’d make this decision herself.
They drove through the grey February weather, cold and raining slightly. Her pet hate weather. When they got to the street, it looked greyer and gloomier than it had done on the day they’d looked round.
Don parked up and got out of the car first. Bella took a few moments to clamber out and lumber up the street after him.
They unlocked their front door and went inside. Don flicked on the hall light and the walls looked unrelentingly orange now that the place was empty and stripped bare. In the sombre navy sitting room there were patches on the walls and the floorboards where pictures and furniture had been.
Bella looked out of the back window at the rain-sodden garden. ‘Oh boy,’ she said. ‘It needs some cheering up, doesn’t it?’ She was trying to sound upbeat, while silently thinking, what have we done?
Upstairs looked no better, especially the pink bedroom, savagely pink now that it was empty.
‘It feels empty and lonely,’ she said to Don, with a slight wobble in her voice.
‘It’ll be fine,’ he assured her. ‘We need to decorate and put in our things. Empty houses always feel like this.’
‘Have we done the right thing?’ She needed to hear him say yes.
‘Yes! It’s a great choice. It’s a fantastic house. It’s going to be gorgeous.’ He put his arms around her. ‘You’re going to feel a lot better once we’ve christened the place,’ he smiled and kissed her nose.
‘Now I know you’re kidding!’ She laughed and pushed him away. ‘The only thing I’m going to christen right now is the loo.’
The bathroom was shabbier than she remembered and cold too.
Back in the kitchen, Don leaned against the kitchen units as she outlined her decorating plans.
‘I want to keep it simple because we’ve not got long.’ She stroked over the bump. ‘I think rewire, replaster, paint everything white, strip down and revarnish all the floors, put in a new bathroom and new kitchen.’
He looked at her incredulously. ‘That’s simple? Bella! That sounds like eight months of work!’
‘No! The estate agent has put me in touch with a building firm who say they can do it in about six weeks,’ she answered.
‘And can we afford all that on top of the mortgage and an extra month or two renting?’ he asked.
Not to mention the deposit, the solicitor’s fee, stamp duty… she couldn’t help adding it all up in her head and the honest answer was ‘No, not really’, but she couldn’t stand the thought of bringing the baby into a messy, unfinished house. She wanted it all sorted out. So, she had decided to quietly arrange a personal loan to cover some of the renovation work. She’d make sure she got a promotion to partner when she went back to work and then everything would be OK. But she knew Don wouldn’t want her to borrow this extra money, so not telling him seemed to be the best solution.
‘We’ll be fine,’ she answered. ‘I’m going to be a partner by the end of the year,’ she assured him.
‘This is making me feel strange,’ he said, folding his arms across his chest.
‘Don’ – she was beginning to feel exasperated now – ‘you’re paying half of the mortgage and we’re a couple now. What’s mine is yours. Don’t say that I can’t spend money on our home, please.’
‘Well, if you’re sure it’s what you want to do…’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Just don’t spend every last penny, Bella, or you’ll end up a sad old git like me who has to rely on his wealthy wife.’
At the prearranged time, the doorbell to their flat rang and Bella told doula, Suzy Mellor, to come up to the third floor. She opened the door to a pleasant-looking, thirty-something woman with hair gathered into a long waist-length ponytail in baggy trousers and a knee-length anorak with a straw basket over one shoulder.
‘Hello, I’m Suzy.’
‘Come in,’ Bella said and led Suzy inside.
‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ asked Bella.
‘Have you got anything herbal?’ Suzy asked.
‘Ummm… I don’t think so.’
‘Just water then, please.’
Bella returned with a tall glass of water and a cafetière of coffee for herself.
‘So,’ Bella began, setting her tray down. ‘As you know, I’m thinking about using your service, so I want you to tell me all about it.’
Suzy sipped her water and outlined the support she could provide before, during and after the birth.
‘And the hospital will be happy for you to be there along with Don?’ Bella asked.
‘Yes, two named birth partners is usual. You put us down in your birth plan.’
‘And after the birth, how do you help with the baby?’
‘I’ll be on hand to support you with advice, especially around breastfeeding, for as many hours in the week as you’d like. Not at night though, I’m afraid.’
‘And how much experience do you have?’ was Bella’s next question.
‘I’m a fully qualified senior midwife, and I’ve been doing doula work for about ten years now. If you look on my website, you’ll see lots of testimonials from mothers I’ve worked with.’
Then they talked about Bella’s planned move before delivery day.
‘All pregnant women are moving house or decorating. It’s the rule.’ Suzy smiled. ‘Just factor in that you will slow down and feel much more tired after month seven. So don’t take on too much. How’s your health?’ she asked.
‘Really good… would you like to see my maternity book?’
Suzy read her way carefully through Bella’s maternity notes.
‘Sounds like you’re doing everything you can to be healthy,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Have you thought about an antenatal yoga class?’
‘Sort of…’ Bella said and resisted the eyeroll. What was it with pregnancy and yoga?
‘And when do you stop work?’ was Suzy’s next question.
‘I was going to work right up to wire, but the project I’m on might wind up a week or two early, so I might have a bit of extra time off.’
‘Good,’ Suzy said. ‘I think you need it, because you’ve not had the time to really prepare for your baby, have you?’
This was said kindly, but Bella felt a little bit stung. She knew it was true and, in all honesty, she did feel ready to slow up a bit now, read the books, mooch round the nursery shops and think about names.
She decided that she was going to give Suzy a go. Plus, she would sign up for the bloody yoga classes and allow herself to lean on this woman for support – just a little.
Once Suzy had left, Bella called Tania for a second opinion.
‘You don’t think it’s just a bit alternative and hippie?’ Bella asked.
‘Having a doula?’ Tania answered. ‘No, it’s ultra-modern and cool. De rigueur in Notting Hill.’
‘Oh, well, that’s OK then,’ Bella said, heavy on the irony. ‘Tani, this is birth not a fashion statement!’
‘Bella, try to enjoy having some extra help and support. How’s your new house?’
‘We went there this morning. It looks empty and sad and depressing.’
‘Stop complaining and start decorating,’ Tania told her off. ‘When can I come and look round?’
They fixed up a time for the following weekend.
Bella and Don were eating out with her old work friends, Mel and Jasper, that night, so they planned to drive across town crammed cosily into Bella’s car.
‘I can’t believe you can still get into this thing,’ Don teased as they sat almost cheek by cheek in the low seats. ‘Isn’t driving a bit difficult now?’
‘No, it’s lovely. I can whizz around and duck and dive and forget that I’m a great huge pregnant whale when I’m on dry land.’
‘Any more metaphors you’d like to stir into that cocktail?’ he teased.
‘Oh, shut up.’ She fired up the engine and reversed out of the space. ‘I’m the mathematician, you’re the wordsmith. Can we leave it at that?’
‘So, who are we going to name our child after?’ he asked once they were on the road. ‘Wordsmiths or mathematicians?’
‘I don’t want to name him or her after anyone,’ she said. ‘I want something totally unique.’
‘Oh no, not Bellabel Ginseng Algebra Browning!’
She snorted with laughter.
‘And what’s Einstein’s first name again?’ was Don’s next question.
‘Frank,’ she answered. ‘Frank Einstein,’ then over his laughter, she asked, ‘Don’t tell me, you want Dylan, don’t you? After the great Bob?’
‘Yes!’ he answered. ‘Please, can we?’
‘No! Absolutely no way!’
‘Well, if we’re doing musical heroes, I suppose you’ll want Robbie or maybe Ronan or Kylie,’ he said, so she whacked him on the arm.
‘How about Karl… after Marx?’ was his next suggestion.
‘Mark…’ she said. ‘Markie Browning-McCarthy. Hey! I like that.’
‘Hmmm,’ he answered. ‘And girls?’
‘It won’t be a girl,’ she said with a grin.
‘No?’
‘No, I just know.’
‘You sneaked a peek at your last scan, didn’t you?’
‘I’m not saying. I just have a feeling.’