Mother's Story (20 page)

Jake sucked in his slight paunch and turned to his friend. ‘See the football at the weekend, Matt?'

Polly winked at Jessica. She loved watching Jake squirm. ‘I don't think I'm ever going to let her go,' she gushed. Her eyes, which were fixed on Lilly, sparkled with tears. ‘Holding her feels like the best medicine in the world.' She turned to Paz's tormentor. ‘Have you held her, Jake?' she asked casually.

‘No. I'm a bit too ham-fisted to be trusted with something so delicate. You know me, Mr Put-His-Foot-In-It Awkward Bastard.'

‘Surely not?' Paz said and everyone bar Jake laughed loudly.

Matthew unbuttoned his shirt and threw it into the space behind the bedroom door where other items of dirty laundry lurked. ‘It was nice to see everyone, wasn't it?'

‘It was.' Jessica sipped from her water glass and settled back on the mattress.

‘They loved Lilly.'

‘They did.'

‘Mind you, hard not to. Polly was surprisingly good with her, don't you think? Wonder if she's getting broody now that Paz is on the scene. Can't imagine Jake being a dad, though, can
you
?' Matthew stepped out of his jeans and hung them in his wardrobe.

Jessica shrugged. ‘Don't know really.'

‘I don't want to go back to work tomorrow. I've loved being home with my girls. I wish I could stay home forever and watch her all day. I don't want to miss anything.'

Jessica nodded, not trusting herself to comment for fear of the outpouring it might trigger.

Matthew dived onto the bed and wriggled over to where she lay. ‘Come here, you,' he instructed as he pulled her towards him, pushing one arm beneath her until she was lying in his arms. He kissed her scalp and ran his palm over her shoulder and back as he kissed her neck.

Jessica tensed and placed her flattened palms on his chest, giving a small push. ‘Don't! I can't… we can't do anything, Matt. The doctor said six weeks. So…'

Matthew pulled away and sat up. ‘Christ, Jess, there's no need to look at me like that! I was only trying to make you relax. I was happy with a hug, I wasn't going to jump on you! I know what the doctor said. I was there, remember? And if you want to be specific, he said six weeks was a guideline, but if it felt comfortable before then—'

‘It doesn't,' she interrupted, with more force than she'd intended.

‘And don't I know it!' He gave a short derisory laugh.

‘I'm sorry,' she mumbled. ‘I just don't feel like…'

‘No, I know. I know there's lots you don't feel like and that's fine.' His tone did not quite match his words. ‘There's no rush. But don't ever push me away like that. We're on the same side, remember? And I love you.'

Matthew set the alarm, clicked off the lamp and turned onto his side. Jessica could see by the set of his muscles that he was far from sleep. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep.
I'm sorry, Matt. I'm sorry.

17th May, 2014

The smiley nurse popped in today. Not a friend exactly, but a friendly face, which was nice. I see her occasionally when newbies arrive or she has to work in my wing.

‘How are you doing, Jessica?' she asked, and not in the way the doctors or the guards do, but as if she really cared about my answer.

I put my sketchpad down and looked up at her. ‘Bit better,' I said, which is the truth. I can't fully explain it, but since I have started drawing more, putting pencil to paper and sketching my thoughts and fears, it's as if I can exorcise the bad thoughts that have swirled around in there for too long. It certainly helps. And it helps my therapist see what I have difficulty in expressing.

Smiley nurse squinted at the pad. ‘That's good.' She smiled and it felt good to know that in here there is someone that feels happy that I might be on the mend, even if she is just one person. ‘What you drawing?' she asked, pointing to my sketch.

I lifted the page and let her stare at my pencil drawing of the Tramuntana mountaintops with the spiky trees and the terrace where the sun peeks over the iron railings.

‘Wow, you're really good!'

I felt my heart swell at the compliment.

‘Where is it?' she asked, folding her arms across her chest as though she had plenty of time to chat.

Again, I told her the truth. ‘It's the place where I have been the happiest I have ever been. I think about it a lot.'

She smiled and said, ‘It's good to have those places, isn't it?'

I nodded. For me, it wasn't only good, it was the one thing that kept me going, the thought that I might go there again and that happiness might be waiting for me.

At the sound of the front door closing, Jessica lay back against her pillow and took a deep breath. The day that Matthew had gone back to work, three weeks ago, had been a dark day. Jessica had spent the night before watching him iron his shirts and sort his notes, staring at him, imploring him to read her. She knew she should have been the one ironing his shirts – he had enough to think about with preparing to go back to work after a couple of weeks off – but she felt glued to the sofa. She feared giving voice to her ugly thoughts: ‘Don't leave me, Matt, please stay here! I can't do it without you! I know I'm supposed to be getting the hang of it, but I'm not! I can't walk up and down the stairs with her as I'm scared I'll trip and fall. And how do I know when she has had enough bottle or when she needs a nap? How do you just know how to do these things and I don't?'

Now, as she heard him grab his keys from the console table and step outside into the big wide world, Jessica was overcome with desolation. It didn't matter how much she tried to reassure or remind herself out loud that all she had to do was stay at home, inside their beautiful house, and care for their healthy baby. It didn't even come close to easing the dark glue of despair that filled her completely. She was sensitive to the slightest hint of criticism. Just the thought that he and Cathy the health visitor had discussed her made Jessica feel so angry; her suggestion that the difficult birth had been a bit of a shock for her – well, no shit, Cathy! You think? Jessica's anger was quick to flare but even quicker to blacken into deep despair. She pictured her sadness like a thing inside her, creeping along her veins and settling into any void it could find. This dark mass was at present sitting below her throat and she knew that if not kept in check, it would rise up and drown her. This was her biggest fear.

She lay and let the cold blanket of dread wrap itself around her, wishing beyond hope that she could fast-forward the day until the sound of Matthew's key in the lock meant she could hand responsibility for Lilly over to him. There was nothing she could do to stop it. It mattered little whether it was sunny or raining, dark or light: every day felt like a challenge before it had even begun and it was exhausting.

Every offer of help from her parents or in-laws was accepted. Whenever she handed Lilly over, she felt ecstatic, but the high was quickly followed by a painful, guilt-ridden low. Jessica avoided the mother-and-baby groups, the gangs that gathered with their strollers, blocking the doors to coffee shops and swapping tips on parenting as they cooed over and compared each other's offspring. She wasn't like them. For her there was no healthy glow of motherhood, no bounce in her step as her post-pregnancy body shrank back into shape.

Jessica looked at the clock; it was 7 a.m. and already she felt utterly drained at the thought of what lay ahead. There was a knock of fear inside her chest at the prospect of spending hours alone with her baby. She closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer.
Please, please let her sleep. Let her sleep and give me some peace. I can't do it. I can't do it all again today. I don't have the strength.
It was irrelevant that she had only just woken after a good nine hours, her night only briefly disrupted to settle Lilly, who had cried out and then gone straight back off.

Throwing her duvet in an arc from her body, she slid to the side of the bed and carefully pulled herself into a sitting position. Her feet reluctantly thumped against the floor; even getting out of bed required the utmost effort. She had a vague memory of herself running into the bedroom and leaping onto their bed, landing Matthew with a push as they both laughed and shed their clothes. It seemed like another person, one she could hardly relate to.

Jessica sat on the loo, reminding herself not to flush the handle – anything not to wake Lilly one moment before she had to. Creeping from the darkness of their en suite – she hadn't wanted to risk the click of the light switch – she leant forward on all fours on the mattress and prepared to lay her head in the nest of pillows that she had only just vacated, when the faltering bleat of her baby drifted across the hallway.

‘No, no no! Please no.' Placing her hand over her mouth and closing her eyes, Jessica stayed still for a second or two, hoping that it was a mere blip and that Lilly would simply find her thumb and soothe herself back to sleep. There was a moment of silence. Jessica exhaled. She smiled. Even if this silence lasted mere minutes, she would make the most of it. It was in the very second that her head touched the pillow that Lilly started wailing in earnest.

Jessica pushed her face into the feathery depths and cried fat, hot tears that clogged her nose and throat. She forced herself up from the mattress. With leaden limbs she shuffled across the hallway and stood in the open doorway of the nursery. ‘Shhhh…' she managed between gulps. ‘Shhhh….'

Lilly's crying stopped, sputtered and recommenced. She wanted picking up, changing and feeding and no amount of reassurance from the doorway was going to alter that.

Jessica crept over to the cot and placed her palm on her daughter's chest. Lilly hiccupped and cried. ‘Please, Lilly, go back to sleep. Shhhh…'

This suggestion seemed only to distress her baby more. Reluctantly, with tears streaming down her face, Jessica reached in and lifted her hiccupping child from her cot. With her baby perched on her straightened arm, she trod the stairs, carefully and deliberately, wary of tripping. How would she explain that to Matthew? She feared his wrath if she inadvertently did something wrong with Lilly. Not that he had ever shown his anger; in fact quite the opposite: he was patient, encouraging and supportive. But Jessica knew from experience what simmered beneath the surface when you loved someone as much as he did Lilly.

Jessica smiled as she entered the kitchen, wiping her tears on the back of her pyjama sleeve. Matthew had tidied, wiped down the surfaces and stacked the dishwasher. He had even placed her favourite mug by the kettle with a teabag resting in it, ready to make her first drink of the day. Lilly had quieted a little and now gnawed her thumb. Jessica clicked the kettle on to boil.

‘I'm going to put you down while I make your bottle.' She still found it embarrassing and a little pointless talking to a baby that didn't and couldn't respond. She didn't know how Matthew and her parents did it, babbling away as Lilly stared past them into the middle distance.

Lilly screamed, as if she knew what was coming and being placed in her Moses basket was the last thing she wanted.

‘Please don't cry, because that makes it doubly hard for me, don't you understand that?' Jessica walked over to the Moses basket and laid her little girl inside it. Lilly instantly started to shriek. ‘I'm going to have to just ignore you because I need to concentrate!' Jessica pleaded, her words cutting no ice with her hungry, damp infant.

Matthew had placed the formula and its scoop next to the sterilising unit, in which nestled enough clean bottles for the day. In a sequence that was now familiar, Jessica washed her hands before shaking the excess sterilising fluid from the bottle teat. She put the required amount of formula into the scoop and levelled it off with a knife, just as she had been shown, before placing it in the bottle where she had put the cooling boiled water. She then fixed the teat and shook the bottle until all the powder had dissolved. Lilly screamed hard, going silent between sobs as though gathering strength to cry harder and louder. ‘I'm going as fast as I can!' Jessica shouted towards the basket. She ran the cold tap and held the end of the bottle under the water to cool the mix.

‘Just one more minute, Lilly!' she yelled and wiped away a few stray tears.

The doorbell rang.

‘Oh shit!' Jessica plopped the bottle on the side and walked up the hallway.

Mrs Pleasant stood on the doorstep, her thin lips pressed together tightly and her cardigan buttoned up to the neck.

‘Good morning.'

‘Yes.' Jessica nodded. ‘Good morning.' Willing her to get to the point quickly.

‘What's wrong with your baby?' Mrs Pleasant got to the point very quickly.

‘Nothing. I…' Jessica struggled to find the words.

‘She is yelling fit to burst and I don't know if you are aware, but it's a sound that travels.' Her mean eyes shone like chips of amber.

‘I'm sorry.' She felt her tears welling again.

‘Well, sorry is all well and good, but I can't hear my programme. Does she need a doctor?'

‘A doctor?' Jessica's heart hammered at the thought. Was that why Lilly was crying? Was she ill? ‘I'm not sure. I don't think so, she just… she's just hungry.' She looked down at her grubby socks and felt terrible that her child was hungry.

‘Well, can I suggest you feed her and do us all a favour?' Mrs Pleasant shook her head, her grey bowl-haircut barely moving as she made her way back up the garden path and closed the gate behind her.

Jessica looked from left to right up the street, trying to see who the ‘all' in question might be. Did everyone think she was a bad mother?