The Baby Group (6 page)

Natalie found herself chuckling along with Meg. She was the kind of person who was utterly alien to Natalie's social world, with her wild red hair and a shapeless jumper, that probably hid a lot of lumps and bumps, over that long-worn-out skirt. Absolutely not someone Natalie would have met in the course of her everyday life. Maybe that was why she already liked her; she offered Natalie no reminder of the life it seemed she had left behind for ever.

‘I always think it's with your first that you have the most fun,' Meg went on, oblivious to the stony glare that Heather was directing at her. ‘Going to all the coffee mornings and clinics, making friends. You don't do that so much with your fourth, people tend to think you don't need any support any more because you've done it so often. Are you in a group?'

Natalie had avoided finding out about anything like that during her pregnancy, partly because although she was not in denial about the pregnancy itself, she most certainly was about how she came to be that way. And anyway, she was determined not to be a mother in the way that everybody else was, in that it was not going to change
her
, that essence of Natalie that made her the woman she was. She would still be
her
, but with a baby. The slight technical hitch with her plan was that every so often she couldn't exactly remember the
her
she used to be, or indeed even far simpler things like her name and what it felt like not to have back pain.

‘I'm not really a joiner,' Natalie said thoughtfully, wondering if that was still true. ‘And I've never really liked being organised by other people or told what to do. But actually it would be sort of nice to get a bit of advice. And I am a bit lonely being on my own . . . my husband works abroad – and I've got no other family to speak of so perhaps I should give it a go . . .'

She let the husband comment slip out so easily that Natalie realised she had almost forgotten that it was a lie. That was two or possibly three people she had told, or at least implied to them that she had a husband somewhere. Natalie hadn't lied because she was ashamed of her single-parent status. On the contrary, during her pregnancy she'd rather admired her vision of herself: a woman alone and entirely independent, who didn't need any man to prop her up. But it was easier to invent a husband than have to field questions about the baby's father. She didn't want to have to explain to anyone, least of all a lot of very proper ladies in jumpers – and Tiffany – that she most likely got pregnant during unprotected sex in a jacuzzi with a man she barely knew then, and had never seen since, and who still didn't know that he was a father.

Yes, it was far easier to have a husband in the background somewhere. It was a simple lie, and one that as far as Natalie could see was utterly harmless.

‘I know what you mean,' Meg agreed with a sigh. ‘Life always seems to be full of people waiting to organise you and tell you what you're doing wrong. Robert, my husband for example, love him. Or worse still my sister-in-law, Frances. She's just had her first baby, but you would never have guessed she was a beginner. Apparently I've been getting it all wrong for the last eight years. She organises poor baby Henry like he's a private in the army.' Meg smiled. ‘I don't know how I get mine fed and clothed every day, to be honest, but it happens somehow and they seem happy and healthy, so I can't be that terrible at motherhood.'

‘
Ladies
,' the midwife interrupted them once again. ‘I am not here to waste my or any of these other mummies' time listening to you two gossiping.' She crossed her arms, dangling the plastic baby by one ankle. ‘Kindly take your conversation outside.'

‘Sorry?' Meg said politely.

‘Are you chucking us out?' Natalie asked in disbelief.

‘I am,' Heather said.

‘Oh dear,' Meg said anxiously. ‘I'm
terribly
sorry.'

Natalie looked at Tiffany who seemed to be having a hard time not laughing out loud, and she did not miss the irony that it was her, the grown businesswoman and not the schoolgirl, who was getting chucked out of class.

‘Fine,' she said, standing up and hoisting Freddie up onto her shoulder. ‘I have never been thrown out of anything before in my life,' she lied. ‘But if it makes you feel powerful to throw me and my tiny baby out into the night, go right ahead. You do it.'

‘Goodbye.' Heather did not waver.

‘Outrageous,' Natalie said.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,' Meg said, as the pair of them edged their way along the row.

‘Why is it,' Natalie demanded once they were in the lobby, ‘that as soon as you have a baby the whole world seems to think they have the right to treat you like a second-class citizen?'

‘Well, perhaps,' Meg said. ‘But I think we were slightly in the wrong too, don't you? It's my fault of course. When I actually meet an adult who will talk to me I can't stop. It's like a compulsion. I think I must have a conversation about something other than Barbie or Thomas the Tank Engine and I must have it now!'

Natalie laughed; she hadn't laughed so much since she went into labour. It was nice to discover that she actually could laugh, and better still didn't seem to have stress incontinence any more.

‘Oh well, I don't care anyway,' Natalie said. ‘It's the perfect end to a perfect day.'

She told Meg the story of her electrical problems. ‘They seem like nice enough chaps but it's just the disruption, isn't it? And the not being able to walk around in your pants.'

This time Meg laughed. ‘Come to mine,' she offered instantly. ‘Come in the morning. I don't live far from here, on the other side of the park – Victoria Road.' She retrieved her old envelope, scribbled an address and phone number on it with half a broken Crayola and ripped it in half. ‘In fact, you'll be doing me a favour; the dreaded sister-in-law is due round with little Henry. If there's someone else there she's far less likely to bully me into cleaning!'

Natalie smiled at her second unlikely new friend of the day.

‘If you're sure,' she said, looking at the address.

‘Positive. We can start our own renegade baby group!'

‘She was in a proper bad mood once you left,' Tiffany said, appearing at Natalie's side as the class turned outside. ‘I thought I was the one who was always in trouble. That was well funny.'

Meg smiled brightly at the young girl.

‘That's a lovely baby,' she said to Tiffany. ‘How long have you been looking after her?'

‘Since she was born,' Tiffany said, immediately defensive. ‘I'm her mum.'

‘Oh dear.' Meg looked mortified. ‘I'm so sorry. I thought you were her nanny . . . you look far too . . . slim to have had a baby!'

Hastily Natalie introduced Tiffany and Meg to each other. ‘I only just met Tiff tonight too,' Natalie told Meg, wanting to put Tiffany at her ease. ‘She's my electrician's apprentice's girlfriend and current motherhood guru.'

‘Oh how lovely!' Meg seemed to have a boundless enthusiasm for pretty much anything. ‘Well, Tiffany, come round tomorrow to mine for coffee. Natalie's got the address. I'd love to have you if you don't mind a messy house – you'd be very welcome.'

Tiffany chewed her lip as she looked at the two older women whose worlds were so utterly different from her own.

‘I don't know . . .' she said. Her confidence and composure seemed to wane briefly and her soft, not yet adult features looked uncertain. Natalie had to resist the compulsion to hug her. That was another new thing that had started to happen since Freddie's birth: maternal urges. Of course, Natalie had expected them to come with maternity, but she hadn't expected them to extend past her own baby. Still, somehow she thought Tiffany wouldn't appreciate being mothered just then.

‘Come on.' Natalie found herself coaxing the teenager. ‘You may as well. You said I need a baby group, and Meg's had four kids so she must know something useful.' Still Tiffany hesitated. ‘You can come round to mine with Gary in the morning and we'll go together if you like.'

Natalie was not sure why she was quite so keen to get Tiffany to come with her, except that perhaps for the first time in what seemed like ages Tiffany made her feel like a grown-up again. Not because she was so young, but because she didn't treat her as if at the same time as giving birth to Freddie she had also delivered her brain.

‘Well, OK then,' Tiffany said, eventually. ‘It's not much fun being stuck in the flat on my own all day I suppose, and I did promise Gary I wouldn't go out in the van with him again.'

‘Excellent,' Meg said, and without warning she kissed Natalie on both cheeks and enveloped both Tiffany and Jordan in a surprisingly affectionate hug that made Jordan squeal with delight.

‘I'd better get back,' she said happily over her shoulder as she hurried away. ‘My husband hates being left alone with the kids for too long – they drive him utterly mad!'

‘She's a bit weird,' Tiffany said frankly as they watched Meg rush off into the night.

‘Yes,' Natalie agreed. ‘But sort of wonderful too.'

All the lights were blazing when they got back to the house, and the radiator in the hallway was creaking and clanking into life. Gary Fisher emerged from the basement just as Natalie shut the front door behind her and Tiffany.

‘Learn anything?' he asked her.

‘Not a thing,' Natalie said. ‘But Tiffany did.'

Gary nodded, his forehead wrinkling with an expression of mild surprise. It was obvious he was amazed that Natalie seemed to get on rather well with Tiffany.

‘Well, you're sorted for tonight,' he said, nodding generally at the electric crystal chandelier that sparkled above their heads. ‘I'll need to get parts in the morning so I'll be here around ten-ish. I've left you a quote on the desk in there –' He gestured towards the living room. ‘You might want to look at it before I buy those parts.'

Natalie, whose arms were aching from carrying the baby for so long, shook her head.

‘If it needs doing, it needs doing,' she said, walking into the living room, relieved to see that the baby chair was still on the table where she remembered leaving it. She carefully eased Freddie into the padded seat and he immediately began to cry.

‘Um, the thing is,' Gary said as Natalie peered into the baby kit bag, looking for a clean nappy and cream, ‘I'd appreciate it if you looked at the quote, Mrs . . . um, Natalie, because I want us to be very clear about what I'm charging you. It's quite a lot. You might need to OK it with your husband . . .'

‘Actually, Mr Fisher,' Natalie said smartly, as she produced a nappy and some wipes from the bag, ‘I earn my own money, which I am confident will be more than enough to cover your bill so I won't have to ask anyone for permission.' She gave him a sharp smile and snatched up the piece of paper he had left for her on the desk and read it. Freddie's cries reached a crescendo.

The bill was about three times more than she had imagined it would be but she was determined not to be fazed by it. Even if there had been an electrician as equally good and reliable as Gary Fisher apparently was waiting right outside the door at that very moment and who was prepared to knock fifty per cent off his quote, there was no way she would have taken it. It had become a matter of honour to appear to be totally underawed by the cost.

‘Oh, is that all?' Natalie said with studied nonchalance. ‘Do you want a cheque now?'

‘Um, no,' Gary said awkwardly. ‘I'm sorry if I offended you, Mrs . . . Natalie. I'll get out from under your feet now. See you tomorrow.'

‘I'll see you in the morning, Tiffany,' Natalie said. ‘And thank you, Mr Fisher.'

‘No trouble,' Gary replied, looking like a schoolboy who was in a great deal of trouble.

Natalie watched her newly appointed electrician and his curious entourage leave with a mixture of irritation and regret. It was nice to have the house full of people and noise again. She didn't realise how lonely she sometimes felt until she was on her own again. Normally her own company and Freddie's didn't bother her at all, but just then she wished she had another adult in the house. Most of her problems were minor: the wiring, the tiredness, and even the nipples that felt as if they had been sandpapered would eventually go away. Natalie knew that and although those things contributed to her weariness, she wouldn't let them get her down for too long. It was that one problem, that one big problem that kept raising its handsome head. What to do about telling Jack, if anything at all.

It was only just past seven and she hadn't eaten anything since lunch, but a sudden wave of demanding exhaustion overtook her, and as Freddie had dropped off Natalie knew she had to try and sleep while she had the chance. As she climbed the stairs with Freddie weighing heavy in her arms, dribbling on her shoulder, Natalie had to stop for a moment as the pure joy and adoration that she felt every time she looked at him threatened to bring her to tears once again. It was impossible for her to regret that weekend with Jack Newhouse, because she didn't regret Freddie. In fact, she rejoiced in his existence minute by minute. But she did regret the storm of emotions that had been battering her psyche ever since she realised Jack had taken her in completely and, what's more, left her pregnant. She was a sensible woman of the world, a clued-up woman. God knows, not only had she been around the block a few times, she'd made some pretty comprehensive maps along the way. So what did it say about her, Natalie Curzon, that she had fallen so easily for what turned out to be just another set of cleverly crafted lines? And worse still, what did it say about her that when she did sleep, Natalie often dreamt about those few days with Jack and would catch herself waking up and wishing they were real?