Chapter 37
Bella was curled up in front of the telly, feeding Markie one dreary, grey October afternoon when her phone rang.
‘Bella? It’s Red. I wondered how you were doing.’
‘Oh, hello.’ Bella sat up – part-pleased to hear from her new friend, part-dreading having to explain that nothing had gone to plan. ‘How are you?’ she asked.
‘I’m good,’ Red replied. ‘How is work and the nanny and everything?’
Bella closed her eyes and took a breath. Best to just blurt she decided, ‘I resigned… I fired the nanny… it all went— well, let’s say “tits up”. One great big, milky, nursing-bra-ed tits up,’ Bella added, hearing the hint of laughter in her voice.
‘Oh my good God… when did all this happen?’
‘About three months ago now. I’ve been home ever since.’
‘But, Bella!’ Red sounded almost annoyed with her. ‘How come you haven’t called me? We could be having so much lovely baby-mummy time together.’
‘I’m sorry… I’ve just been a bit… well, you know…?’ Bella felt a lump forming in her throat.
‘Bored, lonely, exhausted, depressed… maybe? I know.’
‘No, I’m fine, honestly. I’m really enjoying being with him.’
‘Yes of course… of course, that too.’ There was real understanding in Red’s voice, which was making Bella’s lump even more painful.
‘What about coming back to yoga class with me on Saturdays?’ Red suggested. ‘There’s a postnatal class too, you know.’
‘No— no, I can’t go back there,’ Bella realised she sounded tearful. ‘I was so different back then. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.’
‘Like what, Bella?’ Red asked. ‘Maybe you should come along and see that most of the others are feeling a lot like you – shattered, uncertain about the next move, disappointed that things haven’t gone according to the unrealistic plans we made when we were pregnant.’
‘I’m not ready for yoga,’ Bella insisted.
‘Well, another suggestion then. Why don’t I come and babysit for you one evening?’
‘Thanks, but I don’t think that would work.’
‘Why not?’
‘He falls asleep at the breast and sometimes he wakes up just an hour or so later for a top-up. If he didn’t get it, he’d howl himself sick until I came back.’
‘Well, you and your man could just go to the pub round the corner. You’ve got to get out of the house without your baby now and then, trust me. Otherwise, you’re going to go stir-crazy.’
I already am, Bella thought, but said, ‘That’s a very nice offer and I’ll think about it, Red, I promise.’
‘OK, sorry, Bella, I’m not wanting to bully you or anything, but d’you want to meet up or come round? I’ve got some free afternoons later in the week. And there’s a baby-toddler group we can go to on Fridays.’
‘Thanks, Red,’ she said. ‘How are you anyway?’
They chatted on for a bit and when Bella put the receiver down, she did feel better. Maybe she would load Markie up into the car tomorrow and go to a park further afield.
She tried to enjoy their park trips, but the truth was, he was just too small. He sat propped up in his buggy and watched things with interest, but she looked enviously at the groups of mothers sitting chatting on benches in the play areas while they watched their toddlers climb over the slides and dig in the sandpit.
It would be much more fun when Markie was older. The baby stage could be a thankless grind at times. She immediately felt guilty at that thought. No, it wasn’t thankless – he smiled at her, he giggled at her, he looked at her with utter adoration and was upset even when she went out of the room. Sometimes her son’s desperate need and love for her was wonderful but also overwhelming.
The following weekend, Bella watched the rain running steadily down the window. The sky was steely grey and even though it was only 4.30p.m., it was starting to get dark. Bloody November, she’d always hated November and she was beginning to hate Sundays too.
All three of them had been cooped up inside the house all day, not able to go out for a walk and not getting it together to go anywhere in the car. She felt as if she and Don had worked split shifts all day long – he had looked after Markie while she slept in, she had kept the baby amused while Don read every newspaper available in Britain that day. Then when Markie had his afternoon nap, they had tidied the house together, put on laundry and Don had done the supermarket run. God, it didn’t come more domesticated than this. She looked out of the window now and watched the rain, feeling bored beyond belief.
What would she give for some time to herself, time away from all this? When she was still a teenager, she had backpacked all round Europe on her own, now she was stuck in a house in an unglamorous part of north London. Make that stuck on a sofa, in a house in this ho-hum part of north London. How had she let her horizons close in around her like this?
She desperately wanted to be alone, but she desperately didn’t want to leave Markie. It made no sense that these two emotions should be wrestling in her mind like this. If only he and his relentless demands could just not exist… even for a weekend.
She found herself fantasising about what she would do. Take a flight to New York, so she could roam around a noisy, brash city and stay up all night without worrying about the 6a.m. wake-up call. Or maybe go somewhere quiet, peaceful, clean and green. What about… Finland? She’d always planned to visit.
She wanted adventure and change and above all to be by herself to think her life through. She needed mental free time, time not to think: Are there enough nappies and clean clothes left? Are the pears ripe enough to mash? Is he old enough to try live yoghurt? Will a bread crust choke him? All the million things that took up all of her thoughts every day that hadn’t been there before.
She used to be able to think about work and Don, holidays and the future. But now she was too busy.
What the hell was she going to do next? Up till now her life had run according to her game plan. She had known exactly where she was going and how she was going to get there. Suddenly, she was in freefall.
‘Right, Bella.’ It was Monday night and Don put a noodle-ish chicken concoction on the table in front of her when she came back down from putting Markie to bed. ‘I’ve made some nice food. I have some wine on hand. And I thought we could have a proper talk over our meal.’
‘Uh-oh,’ she said and took her place at the table with caution.
‘I’ve been standing back. I’ve been giving you space… but now, I think I’ve left you to your own devices long enough. Now I need to know what is going on in the enormous Bella brain because, no offence, please do not take offence, but you’ve been acting quite like a strange space cadet for weeks.’
She picked up her fork and tasted his meal. ‘Mmm, this is good,’ she said, wondering where the hell to begin.
‘I know, one of your Don favourites,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘So, please, tell me what you’re thinking…’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, but really she did know. She was just trying to gather her jumbled thoughts.
He looked at her with a serious face. ‘Our son is seven months old and you’re still at home, still breastfeeding him all day long, not making any calls, not organising any childcare, not earning any money— sweetheart, you know we can’t afford to go on like this.’
Bella looked up at him with big, brimming eyes and couldn’t begin to express her own wretchedness at the situation: Well, Don, the answer is for Markie not to exist for a few days so I can go to Finland and have a rest and come up with some brilliant new plan. That wasn’t going to work.
‘What’s the matter, Bella?’ his tone softened. ‘I don’t recognise you. You’re so vague and undecided. I don’t think you’re happy being here all day long with Markie, but you can’t seem to snap out of it.’
‘Snap out of it?’ She jumped on that phrase and went straight to feeling angry.
‘Well, yes…’ he leaned back in his chair. ‘You’re just mooching about here feeling sorry for yourself when there’s no need. You could easily get any other job you wanted, but you haven’t tried. You could easily find another nanny, but you haven’t tried that either. Bella, you haven’t even bothered to buy anything that fits you, you’re just skulking about in my clothes. It’s not you.’
She was surprised to hear him talk to her like this. Clearly, he’d decided he’d been too nice and he was going to try some tough love.
‘I haven’t bought any clothes because I’m not earning anything,’ she reminded him.
‘I’m painfully aware of that,’ came his reply. ‘Next month’s mortgage payment will take me to my overdraft limit… and your account must be in meltdown. We have to decide what we’re going to do, Bella. If you want to spend the next year at home, then we’ll have to sell the house and get somewhere smaller. But… I’m not convinced that it’s what you want. And to be honest, it’s not what I want.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She felt a flicker of panic. Was Don going to threaten to leave them?
‘Look, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want to hear… but I never expected to be married to someone who stayed home and talked about the kids all evening. I never thought that would be you. I thought you were the absolute opposite of that and I feel like I’ve been tricked.’
‘You’ve been tricked?!’ she countered angrily. ‘How the hell do you think I feel?’ Her tears were spilling out now. ‘I never knew what this would be like. I didn’t ask for a baby who would only breastfeed, who would howl the house down whenever I left him for even an hour. I didn’t ask to feel this bad and this tired and this completely furious with everything. And your life, Don – it’s hardly changed at all! You’ve gone back to normal and I have to deal with everything.’
Words suddenly couldn’t express her rage and frustration, so she flipped over her dinner plate, spilling food all over the table and ran upstairs.
As she lay on the bed, too angry for tears, she heard the front door slam. Good. Don had stormed out. In that moment, she actually hoped he didn’t come back.
That evening, for the very first time, she started to think about what it would be like if she and Don broke up. The house would have to be sold… then where would she and Markie go? And how would she pay for it? Her current dependence weighed on her. She could sell her car… but without Don, she would have to get a job, a proper, full-time, big-wage job.
Shewent into Markie’s room and checked on him as quietly as she could. He was lying on his back with his hands thrown up beside his head and looked blissfully peaceful.
Far too hyped up to sleep, she went down to the kitchen, cleared up the mess she’d made on the table, then opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a generous glass.
After several gulps, she picked up her phone, needing to talk to someone. She dialled Tania’s number. It seemed completely unbelievable that she hadn’t spoken to her for months now. Plus, she’d been so rude to her the last time, and never found the time or inclination to make up.
Voicemail clicked and Bella hung up. She couldn’t leave Tania a message, she had to apologise to Tania in person.
She scrolled through her contacts list and there was a number she hadn’t called for ages.
After a few rings, the much-missed voice answered.
‘Bella Browning!’
‘Hello, Chris, how are you?’
‘Bella, hello! Bloody hell. I thought you’d died or something.’ He sounded so pleased to hear her, it made her stomach flip.
‘You never wrote, you never called,’ she teased.
‘No, I didn’t. I’m sorry, that was so crap of me.’
‘How are things?’ she asked.
‘Terrible,’ he answered. ‘Danson’s went ape when they heard you were off the job. Threatened to bring you in on a personal contract, then Susan threatened them with breach of contract… blah blah. I’ve been working like a dog, because Hector, well he’s just a conceited and, in fact, scheming a-hole. I take back all the nice things I’ve ever said about him. And we miss you. It’s like a leg lopped off, the phone constantly rings with people asking for you and we’ve all been told to say you’re not working for us or anyone else, you’re simply “not available right now”.’
Bella was amazed to hear all this.
‘But that’s not true, is it?’ Chris asked. ‘What are you doing? Have you taken the plunge and set up on your own?’
‘Er… well, to be honest, no. I’m having a bit of a maternity… um… sabbatical.’
‘Really? You?’ He sounded astonished.
‘Well, the next move is important for me, so I don’t want to rush into anything.’ And it was funny to hear that sort of career-y, work thing creep right back into her voice.
‘No, you’re absolutely right,’ he said, then added, ‘Susan is desperate for you to come back. She’s too proud to ask you, of course, but she would bite your hand off if you offered, probably any terms you liked.’
‘Partner?’
‘I’m sure. I’d probably get sacked to make room for you.’
‘Ha ha.’
‘How’s your little boy doing?’
So, Bella told him, trying not to go on for too long.
‘He sounds lovely,’ said Chris. ‘Are you enjoying being at home?’
‘Mostly. But it’s bloody tiring and I worry a lot that everyone thinks I’ve dropped off the face of the planet. You know that whole corporate culture of needing to take your mobile into the delivery room and rush back to work before your stitches have healed.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Chris. ‘No one’s forgotten you, Bella. If anything, your mysterious disappearance has got even more people clamouring for your services.’
‘And— Chris, do you ever have any qualms about the job we do?’ she asked, thinking of her run-in with Wells. Motherhood had made her so much more sensitive to the human fallout that she had caused.
‘Uh-oh, having a crisis of conscience?’ Chris asked, but his voice sounded warm and sympathetic. ‘No, I really don’t have qualms. Usually, we’re only getting on quickly with what would have happened more slowly and more bloodily over the longer term. It’s good to keep that thought in your head.’
‘I suppose,’ she replied. ‘I think it would be good to see you,’ she suggested, ‘and properly talk shop.’
‘I’d love that – when and where suits? I’m available.’
‘No hot dates at the moment then?’ she teased.
‘No… not really.’
They settled on Sunday, her house, 8p.m.
‘It’ll be great to see Don again,’ Chris added, maybe because he wanted to know if Don was going to be there, but he didn’t want to ask straight out.
‘No, you won’t see him. He’s off to Africa for ten days – refugee crisis.’
‘Wow… that might explain your conscience.’
‘True – at least someone is trying to save the world.’
Don was leaving tomorrow morning. She wondered if they would have a chance to make up before then and… if she even wanted to.
‘So just you and me then,’ Chris said. And maybe she was imagining it but was there a little something to the way he said it?
‘You, me and a, hopefully, sleeping baby,’ she said, then quickly added, ‘I’m so starved of work gossip, can’t wait.’