Me and My Sisters (19 page)

Sophie shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but they make me feel queasy.’

‘All sauces?’ Mum asked.

‘More or less,’ Sophie said.

Louise looked at me and rolled her eyes.

I ordered
foie gras
to start, followed by the steak with béarnaise sauce and dauphinoise potatoes.

‘Would you like to see the wine list?’ our sommelier asked.

Dad opened it and scanned it. ‘You must be joking,’ he said. ‘It starts at forty quid a bottle.’

‘I would recommend the Château Certan-Marzelle Pomerol 2005. It’s a very nice –’

‘Save your oxygen there, son. I have no intention of paying
eighty-seven
pounds for a bottle of wine. I don’t care if the grapes were hand-picked by Napoleon Bonaparte himself. We’ll be having the house wine, which at forty quid a pop is a total rip-off. And we’ll have a jug of water – none of your fancy bottled nonsense. Tap water is just fine.’

The sommelier scurried off.

‘Did you have to be so rude?’ Louise glared at Dad.

‘I wasn’t rude, I was honest.’

Thankfully, Gavin’s arrival stopped the argument before it escalated. Louise was in a foul mood and Dad seemed determined to moan about the cost of the dinner all night.

Gavin flung himself into a chair. ‘Sorry I’m late. Before you blow a fuse, Louise, I was getting laid, and for any twenty-three-year-old man, that is his top priority.’

‘Gavin! Do you have to be so crude?’ Mum complained.

‘Sorry, Mum.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’m starving. What’s on offer?’ He opened his menu.

‘You can have a glass of tap water and a bread roll.’ I giggled.

‘Dude, I’m starving. I need red meat.’

‘I thought you only ate nuts and berries,’ Dad reminded him.

‘I tried the vegan diet, but I was hungry all the time. Some humans just need meat, and I’m one of them.’

‘Does Acorn know about your carnivorous ways?’ I asked, taking a large gulp of the house wine, which was lovely.

‘No, she does not, and I’d like to keep it that way. She’s a dedicated vegan.’

‘Maybe I should become a vegan,’ Sophie mused. ‘It’s very healthy.’

‘Newsflash, Sophie. Eating food is good for you. You should try it some time,’ Louise said.

‘I do eat,’ Sophie flashed back. ‘I’m just careful about what I put into my mouth.’

‘A bit too careful by the look of it,’ Dad commented.

‘Leave her alone, she’s always been very slim.’ Mum defended her youngest daughter. ‘Now, Louise, have you got your hospital bag ready?’

‘Come on, Mum, this is Louise we’re talking about. She’s probably had it packed since January.’ I grinned at my sister.

‘February the sixth, actually.’ Louise smirked back.

‘Did you remember to put in breast pads and big cotton sanitary pads for your pants?’ Mum asked, in a loud whisper.

‘Jesus, please!’ Dad muttered.

‘Seriously, Mum,’ Gavin said, ‘that is way too much information. I do not want to know about this stuff. I see women as sexual beings and I’m far too young to be disillusioned.’

‘I’m not sure how sexy you’re going to find Acorn after sharing a wet, muddy tent with her,’ I pointed out.

‘Dude, she’s a goddess. I’d live in a hammock with her.’

‘Can we please focus on Louise?’ Mum requested.

Louise put down her glass. ‘Mum, I’ve packed everything I need. I haven’t forgotten anything. You don’t need to worry.’

‘Louise,’ Mum leant across the table, ‘it’s my job to worry and you are about to find out exactly what that feels like. From the moment that baby is brought into the world you will worry about her day and night. There is no time off, no break, no escape, no holidays from worry. Mothers exist in a constant state of low-level anxiety.’

‘That’s true,’ Sophie and I agreed.

‘Come on, how hard can it be? Feed, burp and sleep.’ Louise threw her hands into the air.

We three mothers roared laughing.

I polished off my bread roll and raised my glass. ‘A toast to my big sister Louise, who is about to discover that feed, burp and sleep also translates as fraught, brutal and strained.’

‘Or fear, bewilderment and shock,’ Sophie added.

‘Or fortunate, blessed and starry-eyed,’ Mum said, and our eyes welled – all except Louise’s.

In the lift on the way up to our bedrooms, Sophie asked how I thought Louise would cope with motherhood.

‘Knowing her, she’ll probably breeze through it.’

‘But you can’t control babies. They cry when they cry and they feed when they feel like it,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s not easy, even if you’re organized and have help.’

‘You’re right. It’ll be hilarious seeing her out of her comfort zone. She’s always been in total control of her life. Can you imagine her saying, “Look here, kid, I’ve got an important meeting in the morning. Will you shut up and go to sleep?” or “Clara, I’m a senior partner at Higgins, Blah and Blah, I’ve got a big case to work on now, so knock that bottle back and roll over”?’

We fell about laughing.

‘Hey, Sophie,’ I said, as I put my key into my door, ‘kids are great, aren’t they? I mean we’re lucky to be mums, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, we are.’

I went back to my room and stared at Tom, who was sleeping peacefully in his cot. The wine must have gone to my head because I decided to pick him up and cuddle him. His eyes snapped open.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo …

17

Louise

When the dinner was finally over, Mum and Julie kept hugging me and telling me that tomorrow was going to be the best day of my life. Mum was emotional and Julie was drunk: she had knocked back the wine like a woman escaped from prison. Dad, meanwhile, was still muttering about the price of the meal. I couldn’t wait to get home.

I eventually managed to peel Julie’s arms off me as she was telling me how much she loved her children, even if sometimes she wanted to kill them, and waddled back to my apartment. Thank God, I thought, only one more day of feeling like a beached whale. I changed into my enormous pyjamas and sat up in bed to finish off some final emails. My phone beeped. It was Julie: Call me if u cant sleep. So exctd 4 u. Such big day. Kids so amazng, so much luv, so much happiness! I texted back: Going 2 sleep. C u 2mrw. I switched my phone off before she called for a chat, which I knew she would try to do.

An hour later I turned off my laptop and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. I woke up when my alarm sounded at seven the next morning. I dragged myself out of bed and, avoiding all mirrors, pulled on my maternity togs, which I would be leaving in the bin at the pool today. I never wanted to see them or any of my other maternity clothes again.

I had to stop swimming after thirty minutes because I began to feel breathless and light-headed. I was annoyed. I always swam for an hour. Still, at least after today I could get back to running. I hauled myself up the steps at the side of the pool and went to the changing room where a woman asked when I was due. When I told her I was having a C-section that day, she looked at me as if I was insane. I dropped my hideous togs into the bin, and headed home.

I checked one final time that I had everything I needed in my suitcase and got a taxi to the hospital. I was glad I’d chosen the Hartfield. It was expensive, but it was clean, modern, and had well-trained, helpful staff.

The family were all waiting for me in the lobby, except Gavin. Dad rushed over and took my bag from me. Mum led me over to a cream couch. ‘Sit down. You look very peaky.’

‘I’m fine, just hungry,’ I admitted.

‘Did you have to fast from midnight?’ Julie asked.

I nodded. ‘By the time this is over, I’ll be ready for a large steak.’

‘The hotel did a lovely breakfast,’ Dad said. ‘Crispy bacon and excellent scrambled eggs. I won’t need lunch.’

My stomach grumbled.

‘Look, Tom,’ Julie said to her little boy, ‘your auntie Louise has a baby in her tummy and it’s coming out today. You’re going to have a new cousin.’

‘Baby, tummy,’ Tom said, smiling.

As kids go, he was sweet and, thankfully, he didn’t seem to be puking today, but I really didn’t want him or any of my family here at the hospital. I wanted peace and quiet. I wanted to call the office, check in with Jasmine, then assure Alex one more time that I’d be back before he knew it.

‘That’s a beautiful blouse,’ Mum said to Sophie, who was completely overdressed for ten o’clock in the morning. She was wearing tight black jeans held together with laces all down the sides, black patent boots with six-inch heels, and a black chiffon blouse with a black velvet military-style jacket over it.

‘Thanks – I got it in New York. It’s Prada. I thought I’d dress up – apparently lots of celebrities have their babies at Louise’s hospital,’ she admitted. ‘It’s always mentioned in the magazines as the top maternity hospital in London.’

‘How was New York?’ I asked. ‘Did you get to see
The Iceman Cometh
?’

‘Unfortunately we didn’t have the chance. Too busy.’

‘Shopping?’ Julie grinned.

‘You really should have made the effort. It’s had incredible reviews,’ I said. Sophie needed to get out of the shops and do some reading –
Grazia
and
Vogue
don’t count – and go to the theatre before her brain stopped functioning.

‘Maybe next time.’ Sophie stood up and changed the subject. ‘Does anyone want anything in the shop?’

‘Can you get me some chocolate?’ Julie asked.

‘Why don’t you have a nice banana instead?’ Mum suggested.

‘No binana.’ Tom shook his head.

‘Tom was up half the night. I’m tired and a bit hung-over, Mum. I need sugar,’ Julie retorted.

‘He’d be sleeping if she’d followed
The Contented Little Baby
routine,’ Sophie whispered to me.

‘Julie, I’m only trying to help you get your figure back,’ Mum told her.

‘Leave her alone – a man likes a few curves,’ Dad piped up, from behind his newspaper.

‘Why don’t I get both? Tom can have the banana,’ Sophie suggested.

‘He won’t eat it. Get him chocolate buttons,’ Julie said.

‘Yummy! Choco nuttons. Yummy!’ Tom jumped up and down.

‘Chocolate buttons?’ Sophie looked shocked. ‘Why don’t I see if they have something healthy?’

Julie sighed. ‘Sophie, I am aware that giving a toddler chocolate is not ideal parenting but it’ll keep him quiet, so can you just get them, please?’

‘Fine – no need to bite my head off. I was just trying to help. Sugar makes children hyper and causes behavioural difficulties. It’s a false friend,’ Sophie lectured Julie. ‘You’ll regret not giving your children a healthy diet.’

‘Jesus, Sophie, just get the kid his buttons,’ Dad snapped, ‘and get yourself a doughnut while you’re at it. You look like a toothpick.’

‘Choco nuttons,’ Tom shouted.

‘I am extremely healthy,’ Sophie retorted.

‘You live on rice cakes and Evian,’ I said.

‘I didn’t think watching what you eat was a sin.’

‘Of course it isn’t,’ Mum jumped in. ‘Don’t mind them. Leave Sophie alone – you’re always picking on her.’

‘CHOCO NUTTONS!’ Tom shrieked.

Dad threw down his paper. ‘I’ll get him a family pack of the shagging buttons.’

My head was starting to ache. Thankfully, a nurse came to show me to my room. I was very happy to disappear. I told my family to give me half an hour to settle in and then follow me up. I was desperate for some time to myself.

The room was small, but nice. It had a large window that overlooked Hyde Park and a single bed made up with good-quality cotton sheets. There were two comfortable brown leather lounge chairs for visitors, and a large print of Norman Rockwell’s
Mother’s Little Angels
hanging on the wall – it depicted a mother tucking up her two children in bed. I thought it was schmaltzy, but I’m sure it made other women teary-eyed in anticipation.

I changed into my hospital gown and climbed on to the bed. An attractive, cheerful midwife came in, took my blood pressure and strapped a big disc to my stomach to monitor the baby’s heartbeat. ‘Well, Louise, you must be very excited. The big day is finally here.’

‘I can’t wait for this to be over.’

She patted my arm. ‘Don’t be nervous, dear, it’ll be fine. Jonathan Bakewell is the best obstetrician around.’

‘Well, let’s hope he does neat stitching. I do not want a big scar. I won’t be having any more children and I want minimum damage.’

‘Oh, that’s what all the mummies say. “I’ll never have another baby.” A year or two later we see them coming back in for number two.’

‘I can assure you that you will never be seeing me again.’

‘Mark my words, once you become a mummy you’ll feel differently.’

‘No, I won’t.’

‘Will Daddy be coming in to hold your hand?’

‘There is no daddy.’

‘I see. Well, don’t worry, we’ll all be here to cheer you on.’

‘I don’t want to be cheered on. I want this to take place in silence. Please tell your colleagues not to cheer or whoop or make any noises at all.’

‘All right, Mummy, whatever you say,’ she said, bustling out of the door, muttering, ‘Ice queen,’ under her breath.

When my family descended on the room, Mum and Julie sat down, with Tom on Julie’s lap, Dad hovered by the window and Sophie perched on the end of my bed. It felt claustrophobic. Dad was complaining about how hot it was and Tom kept trying to pull the monitor wire from my stomach. Mum was asking me how I felt while Sophie flicked noisily through her magazine, circling the clothes she liked.

Julie tried to stop Tom pulling the wire off my monitor by stuffing chocolate buttons down his throat, which actually worked.

When the midwife came back in to read the monitor printout she had to shuffle sideways to get to the bed. ‘My goodness, you’ve a lot of support here today,’ she commented.

‘We’ve flown over from Dublin to be with her,’ Mum explained.

‘You’re a lucky girl to have all these cheerleaders.’ The midwife smirked at me. I didn’t feel lucky, I felt stifled. ‘But you do know that you can’t all come into theatre with Louise?’ she added.

‘Of course,’ Mum said. ‘Just two of us will be going with her.’

My head snapped up. I glared at Julie.

She cleared her throat. ‘Actually, Mum, I told you Louise just wants one person with her.’

‘Nonsense, Julie. Louise needs all the support she can get. I’m her mother and it’s my duty to be there, seeing as the father isn’t showing up.’

‘Mum, if Louise only wants Julie present, you have to respect her wishes.’ For once, Sophie had got off the fence.

‘If Jessica was having a baby on her own, would you abandon her in her hour of need?’ Mum asked.

‘You’re not abandoning Louise,’ Julie said. ‘You’re here, totally supporting her. She just doesn’t want more than one person at the birth. She actually didn’t want anyone, but I managed to persuade her to have one.’

‘Well, it should be me,’ Mum said, pursing her lips into a hard line.

‘I think,’ the midwife said, ‘that the mum-to-be should have whatever she wants on this big day. We need to let her make the decision.’ She nodded at me and left the room. Clearly she was feeling more sympathetic towards me now she had seen what a circus this birth was turning into.

‘That woman is very opinionated,’ Mum exclaimed.

‘She’s right, though,’ Julie said. ‘We need to listen to Louise.’

‘Sometimes Louise doesn’t know what’s best for her,’ Mum said tetchily.

‘I’m here, in case you forgot or thought I’d gone deaf.’ I waved my arm in the air.

‘I’m coming in there with you to hold your hand and that’s the end of it.’ Mum crossed her arms.

‘No, it isn’t, Mum,’ I said firmly.

‘For goodness’ sake, Louise, for once in your life stop trying to do everything alone. Let me help you.’ Mum was exasperated.

‘I am letting you get involved! You’re here in the hospital with me. I just don’t want a crowd in the operating theatre.’

‘Having your mother with you is not a crowd!’ Mum snapped.

‘I can’t listen to any more of this. I’m off to get a cup of coffee. Call me when the baby’s born.’ Dad disappeared out of the door.

‘Mum, Louise isn’t trying to hurt your feelings,’ Sophie reasoned. ‘She doesn’t want me there either. She only wants one person and that’s going to be Julie. We’ll be right outside the door. You’ll see the baby as soon as it’s born. Come on, why don’t we get a nice latte and see if we can spot any celebrities? We’ll leave Louise to rest for a bit.’

‘I’m only trying to help,’ Mum said, beginning to get upset.

‘I know you are,’ I assured her, ‘and I’m really grateful that you came over.’

Sophie led her expertly out of the room and away for coffee. As my youngest sister turned to close the door, I mouthed, ‘Thank you,’ to her. Then, to Julie, I cried, ‘Mum’s a nightmare. I should never have let her come over.’

‘Go easy on Mum, Lou. She’s emotional about the baby. She’s worried about you not having any male support. Don’t be so hard on her. Let her in a little.’

‘I will. She can hold the baby as much as she wants when it’s born. I just don’t want her giving me instructions during the C-section. Is it too much to ask that at forty-one years of age I can give birth without my mother telling me what to do? I don’t want her in there winding me up. I promise I’ll let her be involved later.’

‘Fair enough.’

Tom started pressing the buttons on the baby-heart monitor.

‘Actually, Julie, I’m sorry to be a pain, but can you take Tom out? I’d really like to chill out for a while.’

‘Sure, no problem. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll grab a coffee and come back at eleven – and I promise not to say a word to you during the birth.’

‘Thanks. Tell Mum –’

‘You’re sorry for being a cold-hearted wench? OK, I will.’ She grinned.

At eleven thirty I was wheeled out of my room and down to theatre. Mum cried as I left. Dad wished me luck and Sophie bent down to kiss my cheek. ‘It’s going to be great. Little girls rock,’ she said.

Julie stayed outside and got into her scrubs while I was given the epidural. I laughed when I saw her coming in with her surgeon’s outfit on. She looked hilarious.

‘This is why I decided not to pursue a career in surgery – the uniform does nothing for me.’ She twirled.

‘Very wise decision,’ I agreed.

‘I find the stay-at-home-mum tracksuit is far more flattering.’ She giggled.

‘Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but we’re ready to begin. Louise is about to become a mother,’ Jonathan Bakewell, my obstetrician, announced. And he began to cut.

‘Are you OK?’ Julie asked, squeezing my hand.

‘Fine.’

‘Nervous?’

‘No.’

Excited?’

‘Um …’

‘Emotional?’

‘Julie!’

‘OK, no more questions. I’ll be nervous, excited and emotional for you.’

After a lot of rummaging about and pulling and heaving, I heard a cry. It was like a kitten mewing. Julie started bawling, drowning the sound.

‘Congratulations, Louise, your beautiful baby girl has arrived.’ Jonathan handed the baby to the midwife, who placed her on my chest. My baby was covered in bloody grey gunk. I looked at her and felt … nothing.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Was I supposed to kiss her through the gunk? I didn’t move. The midwife came over and lifted the baby up. ‘Why don’t I clean her and get her all snug for you?’

‘That would be great, thanks,’ I said.

‘Oh … my … God … Lou … she’s … just … huh … huh … huh … beautiful,’ Julie sobbed.