The baby monitor rumbled to life.
Five more minutes…
The small, sulking sound grew. Soon, it was roaring through the speaker, tearing holes in the silence of Vince's bedroom. He rolled out of bed, grasping dizzily at the bedposts. The clock proclaimed it to be 5:28. That was quite reasonable, considering the previous nights had him up well before three.
Consciousness swam around his head, finally clicking into place as he stood. He took the pink bottle that he kept at the side of his bed and headed to the kitchen.
Emptying the contents of a milk sachet into the bottle, he heard her screams grow in fervour. He anxiously tapped the counter, willing the kettle to boil faster. A sudden click sounded. Instinctively, he grabbed the handle and poured the precise amount. As always, it met the ready-poured cold water with a satisfying splash. He capped the bottle, and shook it vigorously. Though he was sure the temperature was perfect, he tested it on the back of his hand.
Just as he had suspected.
He took sleepy steps to Polly's bedroom. Naboo had cleared out a small storage cupboard for the cot. It was barely big enough for it, but it would have to do. Though she was wailing, Vince crept quietly through the door, as if to avoid disturbing her.
'Hey Polly,' he yawned, a dull note to his voice. She squirmed around, limbs flailing everywhere. Vince picked her up carefully, suddenly alert. He held her as tightly as he could manage in one arm, whilst holding up the bottle with the other. She began to suckle; the red in her eyes receding just a touch. Vince used a thumb to wipe away a tear that had trickled down her face. He smiled. He'd worked something out himself. He could make Polly stop crying.
When the bottle had all but run dry, Polly's tiny hands released it. She babbled cheerfully, but her eyes didn't drop back to sleep, as they usually did. Concerned, Vince laid her back in her cot, her eyes darting around the room. When she was awake, she could always find something to cry about. Vince knew it wouldn't be long until the howls started up again. Standing above the crib, he leant over to his lively daughter.
'Fancy a walk?'
xxx
The pram's rickety wheels hitched on every bump on the tarmac. Polly didn't seem to mind. She giggled and floundered, amusing Vince. He walked, an easy smile about his lips. He hoped the melee of retrieving the pram from the living room hadn't disturbed Howard, though he knew how much of a light sleeper he was. Vince wanted him to have a lie-in. It's what he deserved, after helming Polly's duties in the daytime. They had become a real family unit, and Vince was eternally grateful of the older man's help and compassion, which he failed to find from most.
His friends on the club circuit had stopped calling him. Once he'd refused an invitation, he knew he'd never be asked again. Howard had even suggested looking after Polly for a night, just so Vince could get out. Even Naboo appreciated that it was odd to see him sat around the house on a Friday night. He hardly ever got dressed up anymore, really dressed up. What was the point? He'd mopped enough sick to know that sequins would be a bad idea.
Not that he felt sad. Disconnected or excluded, maybe. But not sad. Each week, a party would pass by and he'd feel less and less upset. He loved being with Polly. That replaced it. That made up for it. As if sensing his thoughts, she turned to him, the pram straps straining. She gave him a wide, toothless grin. He stopped pushing and ran an affectionate hand over her wiry hair. She chortled her appreciation, and the pair carried on. Yes, she made it all better.
Vince liked taking Polly to Eastern Curve. It was a charming place in the summer, and a breath-taking place in the winter. Art and nature remained central, and a yearlong feeling of homemade snugness surrounded the grassy banks and dirt paths. He pushed Polly's pram over the scattered wood chippings. She cooed as they passed shiny objects, suspended from looming trees. Occasionally, she would grab at the air, and Vince would stop to let her admire. Something about a child's perception was so relatable to him. People flounced through here everyday, with no thought to the beauty. Polly saw it, and he was grateful.
He wheeled her to one tree she seemed to have a particular affinity to. He unclipped the pram straps, and lifted her to a blue orb that swung from a young tree's lone branch. She touched it softly, spying her own reflection on its shiny surface. She looked to Vince, her mouth open, transfixed by a profound wonderment. He couldn't help but laugh.
'Yeah! It's you!' he said, pointing back to the orb. She followed his finger, saw herself, and laughed. He stuck his tongue out, and Polly saw it next to her own reflection. She copied. Vince tittered, and Polly began to chuckle again. It wasn't long until they were in fits of giggles, grimacing into the orb.
Suddenly, there was a rustling sound.
'Hello?' Vince called out. Polly jumped, 'Sorry, baby,' he apologised, holding her tighter to him. Her tiny head peaked over his shoulder, with blue eyes wide open.
'Hello?' he began, more quietly, 'Is there anyone there?' Approaching a darkened side of the park, he heard whispers. Familiar whispers. 'Howard?' More rustling.
'No, I have to go!' Though hushed, he would recognise that accent anywhere.
'Gideon?' There was no reply, 'Howard? Howard, are you there? Is that Gideon with you?'
'Yes, Vince, okay.' His friend emerged, into the light. The unmistakable Mrs Gideon stepped with him.
'Were you just-?'
'Vince.' Howard stopped him. Polly began to sigh grumpily. Vince bobbed her up and down over his shoulder.
'Are you two together?' Gideon averted her eyes, like a frightened schoolgirl.
'Just because that's not what you go in for doesn't mean that other people don't.' Howard replied, aggressively.
'I should really go-' Gideon attempted to sneak away, but Howard held her arm tenderly. She stayed put.
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'You know what I mean, sir.' He pointed towards Polly. Vince held her tighter still.
'Don't you dare bring Polly into this! Why are you sneaking off behind my back? It's six in the morning! Hmm?'
'We go for a walk before work, it-' Gideon began. Howard interrupted.
'Darling, you don't have to explain yourself to him. He's a petulant child. When things don't go his way, he throws a hissy fit.'
'At least I'm not a liar.'
'I never lied, Vince.'
'You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend! You go sneaking off with her at the crack of dawn! How am I supposed to trust you? With the shop, with Polly?'
'Maybe you should look after her on your own. Maybe that way you'd learn how to be a proper father to her.'
Vince stopped dead in his tracks. He could feel Polly wriggling in his close grasp, but it was like it didn't matter. Why bother? He was a terrible excuse for a father. Howard had said so, and he had such a way with her. He had such flair. He could never compete. Why bother?
'Come on, baby. We're going.' He held his daughter in front of him, so their faces almost touched. He looked at her, right at her. But she didn't look back. Not properly. Her eyes darted from side to side, seeking any other sight. Biting back tears, Vince placed her in the pram. He turned to leave, much faster than necessary.
'Vince, wait.' Howard said, a regretful note to his voice. Gideon held his arm, in a desperate bid to stop him running after the little man. 'Vince, I didn't mean…Vince, come back.'
But he was already gone.