other than at the baby. ‘So good to see you!’
Hester looked, as ever, slightly harassed, as though she’d got lots of better things to be doing elsewhere. Marie was wrapped up against her in a complicated ethnic-looking shawl thing that seemed designed to roll the baby out at any opportunity. Rosie had developed over the last two months a sort of eye slip with other people’s babies; as if they were something that she didn’t really want to look at, like a snake. She let her eyes slide away and plastered on a smile and tried to pretend they weren’t there, just in case she couldn’t handle it.
‘Yes, well,’ said Hester, harrumphing. ‘God, you don’t know what work is till you’ve got two children.’
‘Right,’ said Rosie carefully.
‘Listen, I have to run in and see Moray. Can you hold on to Marie for a minute?’
‘Um, not really,’ said Rosie, flinching. She absolutely was not ready to touch a baby. Hester knew what had happened; how could she be so insensitive? ‘I’m not qualified.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake, I thought you were a nurse,’ said Hester.
‘Well, yes, okay, I’m technically qualified,’ said Rosie. ‘But—’
‘Well, fine. Perfect. Moray is giving me a VAGINAL EXAMINATION.’
Two nine-year-old boys who’d been examining the chewing gum shot looks at each other and started backing out of the shop.
‘To check the stitches on my ANAL TEAR.’
She was holding the baby out now, with a look on her face that said she would simply plop her down if Rosie didn’t take her in the next couple of seconds. Rosie felt her heart pounding through her chest.
‘Okay, okay, hand her over,’ she said, finally, anxious not to make a scene. ‘Okay. Fine. Two minutes.’
Hester undid the complicated scarf carrier, and Rosie tried to follow the procedure but couldn’t.
‘Here’s some EXPRESSED BREAST MILK,’ said Hester. ‘Put it in the fridge then heat it up in a bain-marie.’
Rosie gave her a look.
‘And if she needs her nappy changed, wash it out, it’s hemp. Reusable.’
‘Don’t be long,’ said Rosie, through clenched teeth.
‘Now don’t give her any sweets. I know your tricks!’
Hester handed over the heavy, warm bundle and dinged her way out of the shop.
The boys had gone and the shop was empty for once. Rosie sat down in the back, where there was a kettle for making tea, and an armchair they brought out for Lilian, and gave her attention to the little thing in her arms. She tried to stop shaking. She was terrified. What if she wanted to keep it? What if she couldn’t hold it properly? What was bloody Hester thinking? How thoughtless could she get? Thrusting a baby in someone’s face when they’d just lost one was completely cruel and selfish.
There was a little mewling noise from her arms. Nothing grizzly, just a tiny, curious sound. She looked down.
There was no doubt about it, Marie was a beautiful baby. Her eyes were grey blue and, like all babies, she looked wise beyond her years, as if she had spent infinitystaring at the stars and had only just landed on earth. Her skin was peaches and cream, not the angry red of some little mites; she had a fine covering of soft blonde curls, which were currently hidden by a knitted red bobble hat. Her lips were like little pillows, making an ‘O’, and she gazed at Rosie with calm, fixed curiosity.
‘Well hello there,’ said Rosie, stroking the little chest tentatively. She swallowed. There was something about her smell, that mix of warm bread and soft sweet milk and cosiness. It was so powerful, she didn’t even realise she was crying until a tear dropped on to Marie’s forehead.
‘Our baby would have been nothing like you,’ she choked, rocking her a little. ‘He would have had dark hair and been noisy and clenched his little fists …’
Marie’s little fists
were
clenched, she saw. She put her finger inside one of them, and immediately Marie grabbed it and clung on for dear life, trying to
Hester looked, as ever, slightly harassed, as though she’d got lots of better things to be doing elsewhere. Marie was wrapped up against her in a complicated ethnic-looking shawl thing that seemed designed to roll the baby out at any opportunity. Rosie had developed over the last two months a sort of eye slip with other people’s babies; as if they were something that she didn’t really want to look at, like a snake. She let her eyes slide away and plastered on a smile and tried to pretend they weren’t there, just in case she couldn’t handle it.
‘Yes, well,’ said Hester, harrumphing. ‘God, you don’t know what work is till you’ve got two children.’
‘Right,’ said Rosie carefully.
‘Listen, I have to run in and see Moray. Can you hold on to Marie for a minute?’
‘Um, not really,’ said Rosie, flinching. She absolutely was not ready to touch a baby. Hester knew what had happened; how could she be so insensitive? ‘I’m not qualified.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake, I thought you were a nurse,’ said Hester.
‘Well, yes, okay, I’m technically qualified,’ said Rosie. ‘But—’
‘Well, fine. Perfect. Moray is giving me a VAGINAL EXAMINATION.’
Two nine-year-old boys who’d been examining the chewing gum shot looks at each other and started backing out of the shop.
‘To check the stitches on my ANAL TEAR.’
She was holding the baby out now, with a look on her face that said she would simply plop her down if Rosie didn’t take her in the next couple of seconds. Rosie felt her heart pounding through her chest.
‘Okay, okay, hand her over,’ she said, finally, anxious not to make a scene. ‘Okay. Fine. Two minutes.’
Hester undid the complicated scarf carrier, and Rosie tried to follow the procedure but couldn’t.
‘Here’s some EXPRESSED BREAST MILK,’ said Hester. ‘Put it in the fridge then heat it up in a bain-marie.’
Rosie gave her a look.
‘And if she needs her nappy changed, wash it out, it’s hemp. Reusable.’
‘Don’t be long,’ said Rosie, through clenched teeth.
‘Now don’t give her any sweets. I know your tricks!’
Hester handed over the heavy, warm bundle and dinged her way out of the shop.
The boys had gone and the shop was empty for once. Rosie sat down in the back, where there was a kettle for making tea, and an armchair they brought out for Lilian, and gave her attention to the little thing in her arms. She tried to stop shaking. She was terrified. What if she wanted to keep it? What if she couldn’t hold it properly? What was bloody Hester thinking? How thoughtless could she get? Thrusting a baby in someone’s face when they’d just lost one was completely cruel and selfish.
There was a little mewling noise from her arms. Nothing grizzly, just a tiny, curious sound. She looked down.
There was no doubt about it, Marie was a beautiful baby. Her eyes were grey blue and, like all babies, she looked wise beyond her years, as if she had spent infinitystaring at the stars and had only just landed on earth. Her skin was peaches and cream, not the angry red of some little mites; she had a fine covering of soft blonde curls, which were currently hidden by a knitted red bobble hat. Her lips were like little pillows, making an ‘O’, and she gazed at Rosie with calm, fixed curiosity.
‘Well hello there,’ said Rosie, stroking the little chest tentatively. She swallowed. There was something about her smell, that mix of warm bread and soft sweet milk and cosiness. It was so powerful, she didn’t even realise she was crying until a tear dropped on to Marie’s forehead.
‘Our baby would have been nothing like you,’ she choked, rocking her a little. ‘He would have had dark hair and been noisy and clenched his little fists …’
Marie’s little fists
were
clenched, she saw. She put her finger inside one of them, and immediately Marie grabbed it and clung on for dear life, trying to
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