Chapter 19
The afternoon at the museum passed quickly. Mum was practically buzzing when we got home. She was animated and even made us dinner, something that she’d been struggling to do. I was on hand to help but it was like muscle memory had kicked in and she cooked us a shepherd’s pie.
It felt like a normal day, until the adrenaline started to wear off and she tired quickly.
‘Why don’t you go and sit in the living room? I’ll do the washing up,’ I said, after we’d eaten.
‘I’m alright.’
‘No, I insist. Go and see what’s on telly.’
She nodded and I soon heard the sound of the TV flicking between the channels.
I ran the tap, starting to fill the washing-up bowl when the doorbell rang. We didn’t get a lot of visitors.
‘Maybe it’s Martin, forgotten his key,’ said Mum, coming out of the living room. She didn’t often talk about Dad; maybe the museum had brought him back into her mind.
‘It’s probably a delivery. You stay in the warm, I’ll get it.’
‘OK, good idea.’
She turned back into the lounge, and I opened the front door. I peered through the spyhole and thought my mind was playing tricks on me.
‘Surprise,’ said Amy as I opened the door. ‘I couldn’t not see you on your birthday, it’s tradition.’
Baby Oscar was in a car seat slung on her arm, fast asleep.
‘Hey, you, come on in, it’s freezing outside. Is it just you two?’
‘Yes, Paul’s putting Patrick to bed. I couldn’t face bringing him out in the evening, he’d be far too overtired.’
‘Paul or Patrick?’
‘Ha!’ She laughed out loud, startling Oscar. She winced and, when he didn’t stir, she leaned over and gave me a quick hug.
‘This is for you.’ She handed me a present.
‘What is it?’
‘Open and see.’
‘Who is it, love?’ said Mum coming out of the hall. Her eyes flitted between Amy and Oscar.
‘Hello, Mrs Adams, I’m Amy, one of Lucy’s university friends.’
‘Yes, I know, Amy. But this one I haven’t met before though.’
‘No,’ she said, relaxing. ‘This is Oscar, he’s nine weeks old.’
‘And fast asleep.’ She put her hand to her mouth in a sshing noise. ‘Do you want me to make some tea?’
‘I’ll do it, Mum.’
‘It’s fine. You’ve got your friend. Go and sit down.’
Amy shrugged her shoulders and I shrugged mine back. ‘OK, thanks, Mum.’
She went off into the kitchen and we headed to the lounge.
‘Just to check is it decaf? It’s just I’m still feeding Oscar and he doesn’t sleep as it is.’
‘Yes, don’t worry. All decaf.’
‘Perfect,’ she said, relieved. ‘Your mum seems great. Like you wouldn’t know that anything was wrong at all.’
‘That’s the tricky thing.’ I switched off the TV and sat down on the sofa. I tucked my legs under me and Amy did the same. ‘Today’s been a great day with her, actually. It felt like things were normal, even though they’re not.’
I scrunched up my face, willing the tears not to fall as I told her about our trip to the museum.
‘Oh, Lucy. That sounds really nice.’
‘It was. I just wish it was like that all the time.’
‘I know.’ Amy reached over and squeezed my hand.
I let out a deep breath. ‘I knew this was going to be hard, and weirdly today was so nice that it’s made it seem even harder, because it feels like it’s reminded me of what I’m missing. She’s so young and it’s not fair.’
Amy’s eyes were welling up too. ‘Baby hormones,’ she said, fanning her face. ‘It’s not fair, not fair at all.’
‘I just want to do more, but I know it’s only going to get worse.’
I stared at the gas fire, watching the flames dance.
‘Look, you’re doing a great job; don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re here, aren’t you? You’ve given up so much to look after her.’
I nodded and wiped under my eyes, grateful that I hadn’t bothered to put any mascara on this morning.
‘Anyway, that’s enough about me; what are you even doing here? I barely let you in the door without bombarding you with my crap.’
Amy tutted.
‘That’s exactly why I’m here. I figured that this was going to be a hard birthday for you and I know you said that you didn’t want to do anything or see anyone, but I thought you might have changed your mind.’
I nodded, and finally let a tear fall.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. And on a purely selfish note, Oscar is a terrible misery guts in the early evening, but he’s great in the car seat so I figured a sleep on the way here, a sleep on the way back, it beats listening to him scream his lungs out for two hours.’
‘Oh, that sounds rough.’
I took in the black circles under her eyes and her ashen skin. I had no idea how she looked after one child, let alone two.
‘Yeah, but we’ll get through it. The hardest bit is getting Patrick off to sleep when he’s kicking off. Once he’s asleep it’s no problem, we could throw a rave in his room and he wouldn’t wake, but when he’s in that trying to fall asleep state it’s a nightmare.’
I smiled weakly, wishing I had any advice to offer.
‘And how about you? I thought you said you were just going to stay here for a few months to get your mum sorted before you found somewhere nearby? Hasn’t it been almost a year?’
‘But that was before I moved in and saw how bad it was all the time. I don’t think she’d do anything dangerous or that she’d harm herself, but sometimes she’s so confused and I worry what she would do if she was on her own.
The thought of her being here alone and who she’d let in.
People to read the gas meter when she doesn’t have gas.
Anyone could tell her anything.’ I shuddered.
‘I don’t know how you do it.’
‘And I don’t know how you have kids.’
She laughed and tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling.
‘I guess we’re going through a similar thing. That feeling of being trapped by other people that are dependent on us. Unable to just drop everything and go out and get drunk and all those things we used to do without question.’
‘I would love nothing more than us hitting up the Red Bar right now,’ I said, thinking how we practically lived there when we were at uni.
‘Tell me about it. I’d even go on a night out in Clapham.’
‘You hate Clapham.’
‘I know; that’s how desperate I am.’ She sat back upright again. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t moan. Motherhood is a gift and I’m lucky that I have healthy children. It’s just sometimes I get tired.’
Now it was my turn to give her hand to squeeze.
In a funny way, it was comforting to know that Amy felt this way. It was so easy to click on her photos on Facebook and Instagram and see her beaming with pride as her children did weird and wonderful things and think that she had the perfect life.
‘You know there’s that really shit advice that people give mums. That it’s all a phase and this too shall pass.’ She put on a voice for the last bit, then she smiled. ‘It won’t be like this forever.’
There was a pang in my chest, because, unlike Amy whose children would grow up, I didn’t want to think about what it would mean for the next phase for Mum.
‘This is nice. We haven’t done this for ages,’ she said, and I snapped out of my dark thoughts.
‘I know.’ I nodded.
‘I should come out without Patrick more often. It means we actually get to have a conversation without me losing my train of thought every two minutes.’
‘Oh, but it’s nice to see him,’ I said, thinking the same as Amy but not wanting to suggest that he wasn’t welcome.
I glanced at the clock above the fireplace and it hit me that Mum had been a while. ‘I might just have to check on the tea situation. Mum has this habit of starting one thing and I’ll get in the kitchen and she’ll be defrosting the freezer.’
‘Oh, I do that all the time. Not defrosting the freezer. There are leftovers living in there that I think I’ve had longer than Patrick.
But do a completely unrelated job. I should probably check on Oscar too.
I’m sure he’s due a feed and he’s probably roasting in his fleecy onesie.
’ She tried to push herself up. ‘Do you remember the days that we’d be on the dancefloor doing slutdrops all over the place and now I can barely get off a sofa? ’
‘I know, what is that about? We’re only thirty-two.’
‘And it’s only going to get worse,’ she said, finally standing up and I followed suit. We headed into the hallway and froze as we saw Mum cradling Oscar in her arms.
She was rocking him and singing gently to him. Neither Amy nor I moved for a split second. I was so in shock that Mum had him. She’d broken that unwritten rule that there is about not picking up other people’s babies without asking.
‘That’s so cute,’ said Amy, in a whisper. ‘But I probably should take him for a feed.’
‘Of course. Um, Mum?’ She didn’t look up. She just kept rocking Oscar. ‘Mum.’
‘Sshh, you’ll disturb the baby. It’s taken me ages to get her off to sleep.’
Amy smiled at me but the look on her face had changed and fear was creeping into her eyes. She wasn’t the only one starting to panic. Mum hadn’t done anything like this before.
‘Actually, that’s a he; it’s Oscar,’ said Amy, taking a step forward.
Mum stepped back and seemed to tighten her grip around him.
‘OK.’ I held out my hand towards Amy to stop her walking forward.
Mum’s moods could change dramatically and quickly when she was confused or agitated, and the last thing I wanted was this to escalate any further.
I put my arm around Mum, trying to steer her back towards Amy.
‘Ah, she’s beautiful, what’s her name?’
‘Lucy.’
My heart started to crack a little more.
‘She’s gorgeous. Amy here’s come to see her, can we take her?’
She looked up at Amy with an air of suspicion. Amy was still doing her best to smile but her hand was starting to shake.
‘Just for a second,’ said Mum. I held my breath as I leaned across and took hold of Oscar. ‘Make sure you cradle her head,’ Mum fussed.
I did as I was told, terrified that she’d snatch him back, but she didn’t.
Oscar looked up at me with his bright-blue eyes and then he started to wrinkle his nose like he was going to cry. I swiftly handed him to Amy who kissed him on the top of his head.
‘Did you want help making the tea, Mum?’
She was staring at them, transfixed.
‘Mum, Amy’s going to feed Oscar, her baby and you were making tea. Shall I help you?’
She looked between Oscar and Amy again. ‘No, I don’t need help. I’m perfectly capable of making tea,’ she snapped and walked off.
I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.
Since my mum was diagnosed with dementia, I’d done a lot of research on the topic, scouring websites, reading books, even taking a few deep dives into medical papers that I could barely understand.
One of the things they talked about was the mood swings and aggression.
So far, Mum had got cross, but she’d never been aggressive.
Seeing her standing with Oscar in her arms, I seemed to have imagined the myriad of different ways that scene could have played out.
If she’d left the house with Oscar. If she’d rocked him too hard.
The more I thought, the worse the possibilities became, and I felt sick.
‘Are you OK?’ I said, turning to Amy. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ But her voice gave her away that it wasn’t fine. I knew that she was lying, and I didn’t blame her. I barely felt OK.
Oscar was getting unsettled and starting to whimper.
‘I wonder if it’s time I should be getting back. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It’s after eight and it’ll take a while to get home and—’
I knew that no matter what I said, she wasn’t going to stay. If I was her I wouldn’t want to either.
‘I understand. It was lovely of you to come.’
She bit her lip as she bent down to the car seat. I noticed her hands were still shaking as she buckled Oscar in.
‘She wouldn’t have done anything, you know, to hurt him.’ The words were out before I could stop them. They sounded so quiet and pathetic.
She stopped fastening and turned to look at me, her face softening.
‘I know. It’s just … it’s this thing, with all the hormones. I don’t even like Paul taking him out for a walk in the pram. It’s a mum thing.’
‘Right.’
The closeness that we’d shared before started to drift apart. We were no longer the same in her eyes.
‘It was nice to see you. Happy birthday again.’
‘Yeah, thanks for coming.’
She gave me the quickest hug, like she was going through the motions rather than with any genuine affection.
‘Are you sure you’re OK to drive?’
‘Yeah, I’ll be fine.’
‘Text me when you get home. And take care in case there’s any ice.’
Amy nodded, but I knew she wasn’t really listening. I’d never seen her so keen to leave anywhere before.
‘Bye,’ she said. I watched her clip Oscar’s seat in and get in the car. I waved and she gave me a brisk smile before she drove off.
I shut the front door and rested my back against it, not entirely sure what had happened.
‘Right, I’ve made the tea and I managed to find some KitKats, your favourite. It’s cold, have you had the door open?’
I took the tray from Mum.
‘Yes, Amy had to leave.’
‘Oh, I didn’t say goodbye.’
‘She needed to get back, Oscar needed a feed.’
‘Right,’ she said, nodding. ‘But her tea.’
‘It’s fine. We can leave it.’
I carried the tray through to the lounge and popped it on the coffee table.
‘But I’ve made it for her.’
‘It’s fine,’ I snapped. ‘It’s just a cup of tea.’
Mum looked wounded and I felt awful for losing my temper. It was all her fault that Amy had left so suddenly and yet I knew I couldn’t blame her for it. She didn’t realise that what she’d done had scared Amy, or she might not even remember what she’d done at all.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. It’s just, this birthday hasn’t really turned out like I planned.’
‘Whose birthday?’
‘Mine,’ I said. ‘It’s the twenty-ninth today.’
‘It is?’
‘Leap day.’
‘Did you know there’s a one in a thousand chance of being born on a leap day.’
‘I nodded. One in one thousand four hundred actually.’
‘My daughter was born on a leap day,’ she said, smiling. She had that look on her face like she’d had in the museum. Lost in another time and place.
I wanted desperately to correct her, to remind her that I was her daughter, but with the smile on her face, I wondered if in her mind she was somewhere better. Somewhere less focused on finding my favourite biscuit in the cupboard.
My chest ached. Amy’s words echoed in my mind, that this too will pass, and I knew it would, and that thought was enough to break my heart.