The Bad Mother's Handbook (32 page)

All these secrets women keep. Actually, I can understand
why; after you’ve given birth you feel as if your
body’s been turned inside out and left hanging on the line
for a week. If word got out what it was really like, nobody
would get pregnant ever again. I’m certainly not up for
it a second time, no way, Will’ll have to resign himself
to being an only child. I’m such a mess down there it’s
horrific. I can feel these knobbly stitches; they’re supposed
to dissolve on their own but I’m not convinced. I touch
myself in the bath and it’s not my body any more.

My breasts aren’t mine. They’ve changed into tender,
meaty bags of milk and they go knobbly too if Will sleeps
through a feed. Then I have to go and milk myself into the
bathroom sink like a big cow. It sprays out in tiny jets, it’s
just weird.

The baby’s weird, too. He’s got pathetic scrunched-up
little legs and a huge tummy now, and eyes that scan your
face as if they’re going right inside your head; I hope to
God they’re not. His willy’s funny, a tiny soft teapot-spout
of a thing. When you’re cleaning the poo off it you think
it’s impossible that one day it’ll be this huge hard veiny
stalk with wiry hairs all round it. Mum says he’s a good
baby to what I was, he only wakes once or twice in the
night and goes back down after a feed, but it’s killing
me getting up to him at all hours. How do people manage
without sleep? Sometimes I lie awake in the dark, waiting
for him to cry, and I wonder if he can read my thoughts
and whether that starts him off.

Once, and I haven’t told anyone this, he was crying
and crying in his cot and it was half-past three in the
morning. He had wind but I didn’t know, I thought he
was doing it to spite me. I picked him up and he carried
on screaming into my ear and my whole body started to
tremble because of the urge to shake him hard. A good
shake will show him, make him stop, I thought. Then I
came out of it and remembered what Dad had said, but as
I went to put Will back down he let out a huge burp and
stopped crying immediately. I went down and had a cup
of tea anyway.

He is a sweet baby. I call him Will, Mum calls him
William, to Nan he’s Bill or sometimes ‘Bonny Brid’. Dad
refers to him as ‘t’ little belter’. I can change his nappy
now no problem, I sing him songs by Oasis; he’s gaining
weight and he might have smiled for the first time today.
Mum said it was a smile, anyway.

But I’m still a fraud. I put him to the breast and look
down at his fragile skull and I think: I don’t love you yet.
I wouldn’t want any harm to come to you, I’d fight off a
tiger with my bare hands if you were in danger. And yet
there’s a gap inside me where I’m sure I should be feeling
something more. You shouldn’t just be
fond
of your baby,
should you?

What have I done?

*

T
HE HOUSE
is full of cards and people troop up the path
almost daily with bits and pieces for the baby. Mr F sent a
book of lullabies from around the world; Debbie’s sister
brought a bag of clothes, 3–6 months, she’d finished with.
All Mum’s friends from the Over Seventies’ have given
something, knitted cardigans and teddies and what have
you. Mrs Katechi from the Spar gave us a scrapbook
entitled ‘Baby’s First Year’; Pauline came with a bag of
gifts from the staff and kids, even a couple of parents had
chipped in. A lot of it’s second-hand but that doesn’t
matter, William’s not going to complain, is he?

Charlotte wanted to know why everyone was being so
nice.

‘I don’t know half these people. Why have they bought
me presents?’

I was writing thank-you notes at the table but I stopped
and put my pen down. ‘Do you know, it’s funny, I remember
thinking exactly the same, but I can understand it now.
It’s because a new baby’s a blank sheet, it’s not made any
mistakes like an adult has. People want to get in on that
innocence and celebrate it while it’s there. It’s very attractive,
that unspoilt life, sort of magical. It gives us all hope.
The baby’s got a chance of getting it right where we’ve
failed.’

Charlotte snickered. ‘Steady on, Mum. Isn’t it just that
babies are cute?’

William, who was lying naked on his changing mat
with his chubby legs kicking, snorted and sneezed.

‘Maybe. That’s only my take on it. Hey, you’d best put
his nappy on before he wees. It goes a long way with boys,
I’ve discovered.’

‘I know, it’s like a fountain.’ Charlotte knelt – she’s
getting so capable with him – and started to strap him up.
‘Yeah, I can understand people being nice with
him
, who
wouldn’t be? But I thought some of them might be a bit off
with me, you know, not being married and that. The older
ones, anyway.’

‘Oh, love, there probably isn’t a woman alive who
doesn’t think, There but for the Grace of God. The older
ones especially, I shouldn’t be surprised, because when
they were young it was a lot easier to get caught.’

Charlotte snapped the last popper on William’s suit.
‘Oh, God, imagine, Mum, imagine Ivy Seddon . . . and
Maud Eckersley . . . on their backs, in the grass!’

‘Stop that now, madam, you’ve a nasty mind. I’ve got
to give them both a lift to the hospital this afternoon.
I think all those hormones must have affected your head.
Hell’s teeth, what an image, though.’

‘But they must have been young once. They must have
courted and that . . .’

I put the last card in its envelope.

‘Oh, I don’t think so. Sex wasn’t invented until the
1960s, you know. Before that everybody behaved themselves.’

‘Did they? Did they really?’

‘What do you think?’

*

When Mum
asked me what I wanted for my birthday
I said, ‘Sleep.’ It was true. Key of the door or not, all I
wanted was to get my head down for a few hours. You
could stick your parties and your presents. I thought
she’d roll her eyes and suggest a gold locket, but she only
said, ‘You’d best get expressing some milk, then.’

So on the morning of my eighteenth birthday the
fairies came and spirited Will away and I slept on in a
tangle of sheets. I slept till noon, woke up and went back
out again. This second time, though, I started to have a
very strange dream. I was on the London Underground
and a dwarf with a black beard was crushed up next to
me. He kept looking at me and licking his lips so I tried
to move away but the crowd was packed too tight. Then
he reached up and started squeezing my breasts hard.
Harder and harder he squeezed until it really hurt, then I
woke up.

I was lying in a pool of my own milk. It had soaked
right through my bra, my T-shirt and the bottom sheet.
My breasts were so hard I could have lain on top of
them and been a foot off the mattress. ‘Bloody hell,’
I said, in some pain, and stumbled out of bed. I staggered
to the landing, blinking in the light, desperate to find my
baby and have him relieve some of the pressure before
I exploded.

‘God, Mum!’ I shouted as I reached the bottom of the
stairs. ‘Where’s Will? I’ve got to give him a feed, my boobs
are like two rocks. And I’ve got milk all down me.’

I opened the door to the lounge and in my thick-headedness
took in a small crowd: Daniel, Julia, Anya,
Mum, Ivy and Maud, Mum’s boss (?), Debbie, Dad, a
banner, balloons, cocktail sausages. ‘Happy birthday,’
I heard Daniel say weakly.

I turned and fled upstairs, locking the bedroom door
behind me. Ten seconds later Daniel knocked.

‘Come on, Charlotte, I’m sorry, we’re sorry, let me in.’

‘Go away!’ I shouted. ‘I want Mum.’

She came, with fat-chops Will slumped against her
shoulder. ‘Here you are.’ She handed him over and he
started rooting immediately. ‘Get yourself settled first.’
He latched himself on and began to gulp. ‘He’s missed
his mummy, haven’t you? He’s been fine, though, good
as gold all morning,’ she added hastily. ‘Now, are you all
right? I’m
ever
so sorry—’

‘What do
you
think? Standing there like I’m in a wet
T-shirt competition in front of all and sundry, no make-up
on, my hair like a bird’s nest, how would you like it? God,
Mum, how
could
you?’

‘It was meant to be a surprise.’

‘Yes, well, it was that all right. Stop smiling! It’s not
funny, it’s
not
. Christ Almighty.
Why
didn’t you come up
and warn me? It was awful. I don’t think I’ll ever set foot
outside this bedroom again. I’ll get agoraphobia and it’ll
be totally your fault.’

Mum patted my knee. ‘Come on, nobody minds. I did
keep coming up to check on you, every fifteen minutes.
I was going to let you come round then say Daniel was
here, so you could get your lipstick on. But last time I
looked in on you, you seemed to be sound asleep and it
didn’t seem fair to wake you, then Maud wanted to know
how long to put the vol-au-vents in for and I got waylaid.
We only caught a glimpse, for Heaven’s sake. Nobody
minds, honestly.’

‘I do.’

‘I was trying to do something nice for you, Charlotte;
give me a break.’ Mum looked weary suddenly. ‘I get
tired too, you know. In fact, with having to take care
of miladdo here all morning
and
sort out a buffet, I’m
absolutely jiggered. But I wanted it to be nice for you
because it’s your eighteenth, it’s special. I think I’ll take
your present back to Argos, you don’t deserve it.’

‘What is it?’

‘You’ll have to come downstairs and find out.’

Will put his palm on my bare chest and spread his
fingers ecstatically. I put my hand out to meet his and
he caught and gripped my thumb. His hair was still thick
and dark and none of it had dropped out as Maud had
predicted.

‘You funny monkey,’ I said to him. ‘You don’t care
what state I’m in, do you? You haven’t a clue. Oh, hell.
All right, I give in.’

‘Don’t put yourself out or anything! Honestly!
Everybody in that room just wants to wish you a happy
birthday, stop being so horrible.’ She took wriggling Will
off me while I hunted around for clean clothes.

‘It’s not my fault I’m bad-tempered, you know, it’s the
hormones.’

‘Rubbish. You can’t go on using that excuse for ever.
Now, I’ve brought you up your toothbrush and I’ve even
filled Nan’s jug and basin next door for you so you don’t
have to trail through the lounge to the bathroom, you can
make yourself decent up here.’

‘Am I a miserable cow?’

‘At times.’

‘Why can’t we have an upstairs bathroom like normal
people?’

‘When we win the lottery. Now get a move on.’

Actually it was Daniel who gave me the best birthday
present, although Mum’s was pretty amazing.

She wheeled it in on the hostess trolley. ‘We thought
you’d had enough things for the baby. This is just for
you.’

‘For your studies,’ said Dad shyly.

‘It’s a good package.’ Daniel handed me the scissors
and I started to undo the Sellotape. ‘Though you might
want to upgrade at some point.’

So I knew it was a computer before I’d got all the
paper off. ‘Oh, God, how did you . . . ?’

‘Your Dad put some money towards it, and Nan. We
don’t want you to forget your plans for the future.’

I circled the huge boxes in awe. ‘But you already got
me the car seat. I don’t deserve this.’

‘Yes, you do,’ said Dad and Daniel in unison: ‘No, you
don’t,’ said Mum.

‘Where’s it going to go?’ I thought of my room, the
tiny desk, the two square metres of floor space.

‘We can maybe move the display cabinet out of
that corner. We’ll have a chat about it later.’ Mum
went into the kitchen and came back with a bin liner.
‘Help me get that polystyrene into here before it goes all
over.’

‘When’s this cake going to get etten, then?’ asked
Dad

Julia and Anya
(box of goodies from The Body Shop)
stayed till Dad left for his next shift, then Debbie (photo
album) had to catch the bus. Maud and Ivy (book token
and arnica cream) tottered off to an evening service at
church which left Mr Fairbrother (
The Little Book of
Calm
) and Daniel (nothing as yet). Mum started to ferry
crockery through to the kitchen and Daniel jumped out of
his chair as if he’d been stung by a wasp.

‘I’ll do that, Mrs Cooper, you sit down.’

Mum flushed with pleasure. ‘Well, that would be very
nice. Just leave everything out on the drainer and I’ll put
it away tomorrow.’

‘I’ll pour us all some wine,’ said Mr Fairbrother.

I sat in the kitchen to keep Daniel company and
rocked Will, who went to sleep.

‘I wonder if everybody’s life turns so weird after having
a baby, or if it’s just mine. I feel as if all the things I
was certain of before have been blown away.’

‘Such as?’ Daniel groped in the water for the dishcloth.

‘Mum; she’s almost human these days, that break
must have done her some good. Nan not being around,
that’s
really
strange, I mean she’s
always
been there. Part
of me misses her like mad and part of me’s dreading her
coming home. I mean, a two-month-old baby
and
Nan
under the same roof. Chaos. Mum’ll go all ratty again,
it’s a shame, and there’s every chance Nan’ll get ratty
back now she’s on this new medication.’ Will mewed
unexpectedly, then settled again. ‘Then there’s Dad being
around so often, that’s pretty unnerving. He doesn’t
change though, he’s still charming and useless. And this
bloke, Mr Fairbrother—’

‘He wants us to call him Leo, he said earlier.’

‘Leo, then. What’s he doing buzzing about the place?
He’s too old for Mum, surely. Not her sort at all.’

‘I thought he seemed OK. I don’t think your dad liked
him, though.’

‘No, well, they’re like chalk and cheese. And then
Julia and Anya coming; I was really touched. Did you
arrange that?’