Enter stage right: a new baby
Exit stage left: Someone?
Thank you for all your generous reviews, I love to read them all – and please do carry on, I write for you guys – so making you happy and keeping you interested is the aim of my game!
This chapter's songs are:
You don't have to say you love me – Dusty Springfield
You belong to me – The Duprees
Enjoy
xx
Shelagh paced the living room, her back stiff from carrying the baby and her left arm was starting to go numb, as much as she wanted to shift positions and let the blood flow return experience told her that that would disturb Nina and take her back to square one. The wailing had subsided into intermittent cries but Shelagh knew that she wasn't out of the woods yet and stopping her tour of the house now would only mean another day lost to the unending crying. She could hardly believe that there had been a moment two weeks earlier when she had longed to hear the noise of her baby cry out, while now she would do anything to stop them. She loved her baby girl, more than she ever thought it possible to love anything but on days like this, with Patrick out of the house at 7 and home at gone 8, with Nina refusing to be soothed that she wished that she could just run away, run and run and go and find a warm nook and just sleep, for ever.
The cries finally subsiding into snuffles, and the steady rhythm of sleepy breaths soon took over from that, slowing her walk as much as she dared Shelagh stopped in the middle of the room and stood on her tiptoes with her back to the mirror above the fireplace, craning a look over her shoulder she peered at the baby's face, was she asleep? Or just pretending? The look of peace on the infants face convinced her that she might be safe to put her down.
As gently as she could, she lay Nina down in the moses basket that sat on top of the coffee table, checking her watch Shelagh did a quick calculation, an hour and a half of sleeping on the sofa if she got the washing machine going in the next 15 minutes. But then again, she was very hungry and there was a packet of bacon in the fridge, it was one of those tricky situations when she knew that if she chose sleep she would regret not eating the bacon, and if she ate the bacon she would regret not sleeping when Nina awoke at 1am wanting to be fed.
"Oh let's have a little hold … oh Shelagh, she really is the most beautiful thing in the world! She's got Patrick's eyes hasn't she."
"Strange, he isn't the father … oh don't look at me like that Julie, I'm joking!"
"Hmm, I'd forgotten about you two and your warped sense of humour. Well whoever she looks like, she's a beauty. How are things at home then?"
"It's nice not having Patrick under my feet all day, but … when he's working all day I don't like kicking him awake to put her back to sleep."
"No, I can see that. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind."
"I know he wouldn't mind, he's madly in love with her and he'd do anything for me and Nina but … well, I feel guilty. If I'm tired the next day the worst that happens is I put a red sock in with the bedding, if he's knackered it could all go wrong."
"Nonsense, I'd never let him make a mistake! And anyway – you may have less at stake, but it's just as important that you don't run yourself into the ground."
"Yes … I know. Now, I'm going to steal Nina back – I'm on a promise to take her over to the staff room and show her off to the girls."
"Oh, do I have to give her back? She's a little gem."
"Well, feel free to come round one day and take her off my hands while I wash my hair! Dry shampoo will only take me so far."
"I would be glad to! Of course I would, you only have to ask."
"I might hold you to that, be careful."
"When I said I needed you … you said you would always stay. It wasn't me who changed but you, and now you've gone away … Don't you see, that now you've gone and I'm left here on my own, that I have to follow you … and beg you to come home? … You don't have to say you love me just be close at hand …"
"Beautiful as always."
"Patrick! You made me jump!"
"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb your singing … how was it in the unit?"
"Oh fine, Nina was endlessly cooed over and fussed. Apparently my replacement in the clinic is bloody awful."
"Anyone would be compared to you."
"Charmer! Did you see Tim off to Newcastle alright?"
"Oh yes, he'll be in the scout centre by tea-time. Quite why they'd build an international climbing centre in Newcastle of all places I'm not sure, but he'll have fun with any luck and we'll get some peace and quiet."
"Peace and quiet? Have you forgotten about the two week old baby asleep next door?"
"Oh damn, I'd forgotten about her … maybe we could just lock her in the cupboard under the stairs and go and sleep for 48 hours."
"No, social services take a dim view of parents locking new born babies in cupboards I'm afraid."
"Blimey – this had all changed from when we had Tim."
"Negligence was encouraged back then I suppose! Now, I have just expressed enough milk to see us through until morning so I am going to open this bottle of wine and enjoy it … care to join me?"
"A thousand yeses … did you see Julie today?"
"Yes … and before you ask, no. I didn't ask her about being god-mother."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not asking her until you pull your socks up and decide about a God-father, if we're ever going to get Nina christened then we need to pick God-parents. Red or white?"
"Red please, well actually Tim and me were talking about this on the way to the station … what about Dan?"
"As in Daniel Morecombe? The man with the voice of Stephen Fry's favourite uncle?"
"The very same, he's a good boy … he'd be an excellent God-father, he looked after you when you went into labour … what do you think?"
"Julie, Molly, and Dan – do you think he could compete with those three? White you said?"
"Red please – thanks … I think so, yeah. He's grown a lot since he arrived, what do you think?"
"I think … I think you might be right. Congratulations Dr Turner."
"Why thank you Mrs Turner! Cheers."
Patrick paced the landing, cradling the baby in his arms and singing as softly as he could so as not to wake his wife, unlike Tim, Shelagh and Bernadette, Nina was not as critical of his singing. The cat had been known to flee the room when Patrick broke into song, although that could just as easily have been down to the dancing as the singing.
"See the pyramids along the Nile … watch the sun rise on a tropic isle, just remember, darling, all the while … you belong to me. See the marketplace in old Algiers, send me photographs and souvenirs … but remember when a dream appears … you belong to me. I'll be so alone without you … maybe you'll be lonesome to … and blue. Fly the ocean in a silver plane, watch the jungle when its wet with rain … Just remember till you're home again … You belong to me …"
He swayed to the music in his head, imagining Shealgh in Nina's place for a moment, it had been far too long since they had been out together he decided. Something that would have to be remedied, he knew that Shelagh was done in, he loved her but she looked exhausted. Endlessly trying to protect Patrick from night feeds and the broken sleep, she had burdened herself with the full responsibility and in return she was breaking herself down.
Now it was his turn to let her recover, he had managed to get out of bed at the first whimper and start to calm Nina, running his fingers along her tiny back, her spine not even the length of his hand, his daughter was tiny and fragile and he was madly in love with her. He could still remember Tim being small enough to lie in the crook of his arm but he had forgotten how it felt to hold a child of his own in his arms, terrifying and life affirming. Listening to the even breaths of his baby fast asleep, Patrick tried to walk as softly as he could back into their bedroom without waking Shelagh, the street lamp outside kept the room bathed in an orangey half glow through the curtains and he placed Nina as gently as he could back into her cot. She seemed to not wake again, so deciding he was safe, Patrick slid around to his side of the bed and slipped in between the sheets. There was silence as he shut he eyes, but after a moment he felt Shelagh's warm arm twist around his waist and pull him in,
"Thank you."
"Sorry," he whispered in reply. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't. She did, thank you." Twisting around, Patrick pushed a kiss into Shelagh's exposed shoulder before turning back and shutting his eyes again desperately against the advancing morning.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, is it possible to speak to Patrick Turner please?"
"I'm afraid he's at work, can I take a message?"
"Umm … do you have a contact number for him?"
"Uh, sorry, what's this regarding?"
"Uh … this is Carl Beatty – I'm working on the scout group in Newcastle, are you a … relative?"
"I'm his wife … is it Tim? Is he alright?"
"I see, yes … I really do need to speak with Mr Turner."
"Oh for goodness sake, is Tim OK? I'm his stepmother!"
"Yes … he's umm, he's just had a bit of a fall … he's going to be fine, we just need his Dad to come up and get him."
"He's … I mean he's had a fall, but he isn't hurt or anything … is he?"
"Well he's had a bit of a fall … he'll just need a bit of … looking after."
"But he's OK."
"I … I really do need to speak with Mr Turner."