Nicky smiled as if she wasn’t resisting the urge to knock Courtney’s phone out of her hand and stomp on it.
‘Your baby needs you.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about it. She’s always crying for no reason.’
‘Okay, so how about we check whether there’s a reason this time?’ Nicky asked, in a voice that left no room for arguments. ‘Can you remember the crying checklist?’
With a vigorous eye-roll, Courtney ticked off on her fingers. ‘She was fed an hour ago. Nappy changed. Not tired. Not ill or too hot or cold…’
‘What’s the last one?’
‘Being a needy pain in the arse?’
Nicky visibly flinched. I could practically see her safeguarding antenna spinning. However, before things deteriorated any further, Courtney got up and took her baby back. ‘Chill out, I’m only messing!’
She started walking up and down the lawn, cooing into her daughter’s ear, and after a few moments Nicky felt reassured enough to join me in the cabin.
‘Worth a quick chat with Hazel?’ she asked, automatically straightening a towel that was out of line by one millimetre, before moving on to scrutinise the rest of the set-up.
‘I’m not sure she’ll be able to understand us just yet.’
Nicky gave me a pointed look.
‘You don’t have to check every bottle. I’ve made sure they’re the baby-safe oils. And yes, if I can’t have a discreet word when she comes to pick them up, I’ll pop over to see Grandma Hazel in the salon. I’m sure she’d notice if there was anything to worry about.’
At that point, the first group of mums appeared, having walked together through the village, and by the time we’d caught up on hellos and how their little ones were doing, the others were arriving thick and fast. To my surprise, Daisy and baby Bolt also turned up.
‘Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?’ I asked, taking a delighted peek at Bolt’s tuft of black hair. ‘You must be exhausted.’
‘Nah.’ Daisy shrugged. ‘I feel better than I did when carrying this lump around inside me twenty-four seven. You told us to make the most of them early days when baby sleeps all the time, so I am.’
I raised my eyebrows at her foster carer, Lisa, who waited until Daisy was distracted showing off Bolt to the other mums before saying, ‘She was up and dressed at seven-thirty, asking if she could come. I think the shock of how it all happened is starting to hit her, and she needs the reassurance of being with the other mums, and you and Nicky. She’s missing Raz, too, of course.’
‘Okay. We’ll make sure she takes it easy, and Nicky will keep a close eye on her.’
‘You’re a pair of angels,’ Lisa breathed, disappearing before I could change my mind.
Bolt was too young for a massage, but he enjoyed a cuddle with his Auntie Libby while Daisy reclined on a beanbag, answering dozens of questions about her dramatic labour.
‘You lucky cow’ was the general consensus by the time we broke for drinks and cake. ‘Less than an hour, no being jabbed with needles or stitches? We’d have loads of babies if it was that easy.’
‘I dunno.’ Daisy grimaced. ‘If Dr Nicky had offered me a shot of painkiller, she could have jabbed it wherever she fudging liked.’
I went to admire my partially restored benches at lunchtime, while Nicky handed out soup and sandwiches.
‘These are going to be gorgeous, Toby.’
He beamed at me, eyes glowing with pride.
‘I think you might need to paint the rest of the wooden chairs another time. The benches will show them up.’
‘Of course! I saw a couple of holes in your fence, too.’
There were more than a couple. I had even less motivation to maintain the outside of my property than I did the inside, and let’s just say the inside was all shabby and no chic.
‘On one condition.’
He ran a hand through the curly mop of honey-coloured hair on top of his head, before giving the shaved sides a good scratch. ‘It kind of has to be on a Wednesday. I can’t really get here with all my stuff any other day. And I’ve college three days a week.’
