‘Just goes to show. You aren’t always the experts on sussing out a situation.’ I sighed, sinking into a kitchen chair. ‘There’s decaf tea in the blue tin.’
‘Tea, are you serious?’ Nicky asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway with a bottle of wine. She must have let herself in with my spare key. ‘I was on my way home, and then I remembered Theo’s away, I’m full of adrenaline and I have a load more slagging-off-the-dropout to be doing before I can sleep.’
One-and-a-half bottles later, we’d finished discussing Brayden and Silva and peered at photos of Platinum Precious on their Instagram that included no hint of the evening’s drama – naturalbirth, proudmama, birthwithoutfear, empowered. They had tagged my business account, prompting me to switch off the notifications a few minutes later. Mum decided to change the subject.
‘I’m sorry, girls.’
‘Excuse me?’ Nicky asked, twisting around to where I sat next to her on the sofa and muttering, ‘Small talk was going so well – why does she have to ruin it?’
‘I’m sorry for not being there for nights like this. For not realising that there’d be times you’d need my practical help as well as a mother’s shoulder to cry on while I reminded you how ruddy outstanding you are. Libby…’ She paused, blinking a few times before she could continue. ‘I’m sorry for blaming you for what happened with Jonah. It was unforgivable to let things deteriorate the way they did. I could shift the blame onto my breakdown. A mid-life crisis or the menopause. It’s irrelevant. I spent the best part of my life helping children who had been letdown by their birth parents, and then I… then I… I don’t know how I could have been so foolish!’
Nicky frowned. ‘The problem is, saying sorry doesn’t undo any of it.’
Mum rubbed a hand across her eyes. ‘No. But it does mean that I’d undo those awful years before I left, if I could. I’ve been an appalling mother and I don’t know what to do about it apart from scrub your grouting and promise that I’m staying for as long as it takes to make it up to you.’
‘What about Dad?’ I couldn’t fail to notice how naturally my parents had been acting towards each other. Almost how things had been before Mum became ill.
‘We’ve talked,’ Dad said, his tone giving nothing away.
‘And? What happens now?’ Nicky asked.
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed.’ Dad got up. ‘Shall I call us a taxi?’
It was only once the cottage had settled back into the near silence of those early-morning hours that I remembered to turn my notifications back on. About a dozen thank-you messages from Silva, which I ignored for now, a few comments and queries from people interested in antenatal classes, and a message that made my insides flutter.
How did it go? Did you find him?
I tapped out a couple of sentences about how I’d found Brayden at his personal trainer’s and he’d made it in time for the birth. Despite it being two in the morning, a reply came back almost instantly.
I’m so sorry about Ellis
Don’t be. I understand why she feels like that. I’m sorry she’s gone to live with Damon. You must be worried sick.
Yeah.
There was a brief pause. I could almost hear what Jonah was thinking, so I said it for him.
Maybe not the best time to start dating someone she blames for ruining her life
Another pause before he replied.
I’ve tried to figure out how we could do it. Keep things quiet, meet places she won’t know about. But if I’m starting something with you I have no intention of finishing it, and when she eventually finds out she’ll be even more upset that I hid you from her.
While I was still digesting that, another message arrived.
But it kills me. I love you and I can’t contemplate letting you go again. The teenage voice in my head keeps shouting that Ellis is with Damon – she won’t even know if we’re together or not. Me and you are the least of her problems, why should her six-year-old memories get to keep us apart?
I knew why. Because there was a baby about to be born. A baby born into generations of trauma. A baby who deservedevery chance it could possibly get to be safe, and loved and cared for well, by people who were well. A baby who needed Jonah.
To be honest, there’s a lot going on here, too.
I tapped the message out, holding the phone up to prevent my tears dripping onto the screen.
Isla and Finn have enough to deal with right now, and I’ll need to be a steady anchor while Brayden tries to get his act together. Mum is sticking around, and she’s finally ready to talk about things. You being there isn’t going to make that easier. Maybe the sensible decision is to postpone our date for a while.
Since when were you and me sensible?
Since I had two kids, a business and a charity to run
