Chapter 36
Bella stood up very slowly and tried to move her sleeping baby from her arms into his bed. She put him down with tiny, careful movements, but as soon as his head touched the mattress, he woke up and began to cry.
She couldn’t help letting out a cry of frustration. For the third time, she was going to have to sit down, put him back on her breast until he fell asleep, then try to move him. This was so infuriating. Why couldn’t he sleep without her nipple in his mouth? Why wouldn’t he leave her alone for just half an hour so she could do something for herself, clear up the breakfast dishes, take a shower, lie on the sofa in peace. She needed to be left alone, just for a few minutes.
The baby was so tired, she knew she should just put him down and let him howl until he fell asleep, but she couldn’t bear to do it. He had cried and cried and cried the times she had tried before and in the end she had always given in, picked him up and comforted him with a feed again.
Every single one of the plethora of baby care books she had surrounded herself with recently had advised her that feeding a baby to sleep every single time was a bad idea, but it had become too entrenched now. Markie was four months old. This was how he went to sleep, morning, noon, night, middle of the night. She didn’t know how she could break the cycle. The fact that it was all her fault made her feel even worse about it.
She picked the baby up and it took all her self-control not to shout at him. Finally, ten minutes of feeding later and he had fallen soundly asleep. She didn’t dare to move him. If he woke up again, she was in danger of shouting at him or even shaking him. Things that she would have found completely unthinkable before.
She was completely exhausted. Every day, she was functioning on just five or six fractured hours of sleep. She had dark double bags under her eyes and her skin looked grey. She had just enough energy to get through the day and nothing in reserve. She was doing all the baby care, all day long, all the breastfeeding, day and night. Don was there to cook her dinner some evenings and he helped out at the weekends, but otherwise, she was totally unsupported.
Right now, she just couldn’t see a way out of the situation. She couldn’t bear to get any childcare organised while she wasn’t working because of guilt at the expense and because she still hated the thought of handing Markie over to anyone after the last experience.
She knew she wasn’t going to get any aspect of her life back together until she had some time to herself and some more energy.
But what the hell was she going to work as? She couldn’t be a part-time consultant. It wasn’t that kind of job – when consultants were called in, they were expected to work full-time, overtime and find solutions as quickly as possible. Even if she could think of a way of going part-time, she might as well throw her ambition to get to the top of her career in the bin.
Where was the solution? All these questions and anxieties were whirling around her head in such an unanswerable frenzy, it was beginning to make her uncertain, unconfident and even depressed.
Yesterday, thinking that maybe some of her old work friends would cheer her up, she’d met Mel and Lucy for lunch in the City but the gulf between what she once was and what she’d now become had just depressed her even further.
She’d turned up at the smart restaurant in Don’s jeans and a shirt, with a changing bag on her back, lugging a baby in a car seat. Mel and Lucy were in beautiful designer workwear, with Fendi bags, high heels, glossy nails and latest-model mobiles.
At least Markie had behaved perfectly. She’d propped him up into the restaurant’s highchair – where he’d mouthed on his teething toys as Mel and Lucy had cooed over him adoringly, even though Lucy had cuddled him just a little bit too hard so he’d landed a blob of sick on her jacket.
But the questions about what her plans were had been hard to answer because she just didn’t know.
‘In a few more months, he’ll drink from a beaker and eat more solids, so I’ll be able to leave him with someone else,’ she’d heard herself say, but not all day, no way.
‘But how are you surviving without a salary?’ Mel had asked, genuinely curious.
With a lurch, Bella thought about the mountainous mortgage, her loan, her credit cards racked up to the hilt, not to mention her and increasingly Don’s deep anxiety about the money, but she only said, ‘I’ve got a bit saved up to tide me over for a while?—’
‘Do you spend the day doing lovely things?’ – this from Lucy – ‘Going round parks, art galleries, deli shopping. It must be so relaxing not having to go to work. God, it must be fabulous!’
Bella thought of herself endlessly breastfeeding day and night, walking her local streets with the buggy alone, trawling round unglamorous chemist and baby shops, constantly in search of a baby changing room and all the time, so, so tired.
‘Yeah, it’s nice, but hard work,’ she said vaguely.
‘Don’t you miss work a bit?’ asked Mel.
She’d looked at the two of them, perfectly dressed, perfectly made up, about to go back to their vastly well-paid jobs, then afterwards maybe on to a noisy cocktail party. On Saturday they could sleep in all morning, go out for lunch, see a film, have a facial, buy expensive new clothes, book holidays. Shit. Shit. Shit. She missed it all desperately.
Then Markie happily waved a toy. He was giggling and drool was running down his chubby chin onto the bib she’d tied round his neck. She adored him, felt her heart ache just looking at him.
‘I miss lots of things about work,’ she admitted, ‘the buzz, the power trip, the money, that feeling of purpose every morning.’ She managed a laugh. ‘I can’t believe I used to go jogging every morning! But I’m just besotted with my little guy. I don’t want to miss anything. I don’t want to make him unhappy and I want to do everything right.’ As she said this, she wished she could think of a way to somehow have both lives, but it seemed impossible.
‘Have you spoken to Susan, since you— em—?’ Lucy asked awkwardly.
‘No,’ Bella said.
‘What about doing two or three days a week? Surely Susan would take you back, wouldn’t she?’ Lucy asked.
‘Ermm, I don’t know, I keep meaning to speak to her. God, I don’t know,’ Bella said, realising how vague and uncertain she sounded. ‘I don’t know what you can achieve part-time… probably nothing very important.’
Lucy and Mel had looked at a loss. Bella could see that. This was her, the girl who’d always had it all figured out before, who’d got the fab job first, who’d got married first, who’d now had a baby, first. She could see they were unsettled but weren’t sure what else to suggest.
On the walk back to her car, Bella looked round the streets which had been her backdrop for so many years and she felt like an outsider. Everyone who pushed past her was in a suit and in a hurry, Markie was bumped about in his car seat as the City’s workers raced back to their offices to make more money.
There was a smartly suited couple kissing passionately on the street corner and she watched them break apart laughing as their mobiles went off together.
‘Synchronicity,’ Don’s voice was in her head. That had happened the first night they met… about one hundred years ago.
Now, one entirely uneventful day later, she was back at home with Markie finally asleep. She plugged in the baby monitor and left the room with the listening device in her hand.
In the kitchen, she made a very strong cup of coffee and as she drank it, she tried not to miss smoking too much.
‘I’m sure I used to think better with nicotine,’ she said out loud. ‘But we can’t go back. No backsliding to the bad old ways.
‘Talking to myself,’ she again said out loud. ‘An interesting new development. Obviously the first sign that I’m about to go completely bonkers.’
She finished her coffee and went upstairs to sort out another load for the washing machine. She was bored, she had to admit to herself. She was becoming a slave to an endless round of endless domestic chores. The washing had to be done, the kitchen sink had to be cleaned, the shower plug unblocked. There were 101 little tasks she could occupy herself with all day long but what for? The clothes and sink would get dirty again, the plug would gum up. It was merely a version of digging holes and filling them in again. A way of making her feel she was busy.
‘Oh, shut up,’ she told herself, ‘this is getting very black. And someone has to do these things.’
But then the little voice said, ‘You used to drink in all night bars, drag strange men home to bed, do boardroom presentations so good they turned you on… now you clean out plugholes and shop for baby vests. Shut Up, Bella.’
But much of the time, it was boring and she was bored, bored, bored.
‘He managed to roll over onto his tummy today and he lifted himself up with his arms. He was so pleased with himself, he giggled and squeaked. And he was pointing at me and going “Ah, ah”. I’m sure he was trying to say “Ma Ma”. It’s just so exciting,’ she heard herself tell Don at supper that evening.
To her own ears, she sounded like an idiot.
Later, when she’d finished her bath, she went through to the bedroom and found Don waiting for her on the bed. He looked nice, still holding on to his tan, although it was the end of autumn now. His thick hair was overgrown and in need of a cut, but she liked it like that.
‘Hello, Bella, remember me?’ he said gently and she knew that look.
‘Oh, boy,’ she said with a smile. ‘You can try, my darling, but I’m very tired, it will be like raising the dead.’
‘Come here,’ he held out his arms. ‘Let’s just cuddle up.’
‘Yeah, you say that, but I know you mean “let’s have a shag”.’
‘Stop being so defensive and get over here!’
She kept her thick white dressing gown wrapped tightly round her and lay carefully on the bed beside him. He rolled onto his side and wrapped her up in his arms, squeezing her so hard, her large milky breasts hurt.
He aimed for her mouth and kissed her, reaching between her lips with his tongue. God, she struggled against the urge to push him away. She really wasn’t in the mood. And why so full on straight away? Couldn’t he kiss her neck first? Or her forehead?
She broke away and kissed his cheek, neck, ear, anything to get away from the closeness, the intention of a mouth-on-mouth kiss.
He opened her dressing gown and fondled her breasts, but to her this just didn’t feel like it used to. The boobs were so big and so heavy and she associated them with the baby. As his hand moved down to between her legs, she unzipped him and took his erection between her hands. She’d decided to just do this. Really, did it matter that she wasn’t fully turned on?
Poor Don, he was a lovely man. He was working really hard, trying to be as supportive as he could, and they hadn’t had sex for weeks. She would do this for him. Yes, she knew it would be nice for her, too, but she was just a million miles away from being really turned on.
He was kissing her on the mouth again, ugh. It felt suffocating, so she moved down the bed to take him in her mouth, which somehow felt less personal.
Then there was fumbling about with condoms and lubrication and worrying about her still-uncomfortable scar, and just as she wondered why on earth they were bothering, they were making love and, actually, it felt good to her. She felt snug and almost muscular inside, and he felt just right again.
But then she glanced down at her wobbly tummy and immediately regretted it. This was not her body. She just couldn’t feel sexy with it.
Don was slowly working up to an orgasm beneath her and, with some detachment, she watched his face change from tension, screwed-up eyes and locked jaw to pleasure and relief.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘You weren’t there, were you?’ He said this kindly, with a smile.
‘Well… I was there a bit,’ she confessed. ‘It was nice.’
‘Oh dear… nice.’ He was only smiling a little now. ‘We’ve reached the “nice sex” stage. You know what comes next, don’t you? The “no sex” stage. The “not tonight, darling, I’d rather have a lovely cup of tea” stage.’
‘Don’t, Don.’ She moved off and lay beside him. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not in the mood.’
‘You’re never in the mood,’ he said, but gently and with understanding. ‘Tell me what you want from me… I will do it.’
‘Please don’t. You’re just going to have to give me a chance here. I’m looking after a baby twenty-four hours a day, I’m tired.’
‘You have to let me help more,’ Don said. ‘You have to get more sleep.’
‘Plus, we’ve been together for two years now,’ Bella added.
‘What’s that got to do with it?’ he asked.
‘Well, it’s natural to go off the boil a bit.’
‘Bella, you pessimist!’ He cuddled her up in his arms and decided to joke her out of this. ‘I’m just as attracted to you now as on day one.’
‘Really?’ she asked, unconvinced.
‘Really. Although I am looking forward to your future move out of nursing bras and maternity pants.’
She gave him a pretend smack on the head.
‘Now leave me alone. I’ve got to sleep.’
‘OK.’ He kissed her on the lips. ‘Good night. Just try and relax, we’re OK. You’re going to be OK… soon. And if you want to talk about?—’
She shook her head. She did not want to talk about it.