And Baby Makes Two

I had no one to talk to like I did on the ward. I couldn’t talk to her and all my friends were still away. There was no one else around except Mrs Mugurdy. For the first time in my life I was relieved when August finally staggered to an end.

Shanee came over as soon as she got back from Ireland. She brought Shinola some socks, a T-shirt that said “I’m a Full-time Job”, and a rubber ducky. She didn’t bring anything for me.

“So how’s it going?” asked Shanee.

She was standing behind me, watching me change Shinola.

I dodged a small foot that was trying to put out my front teeth.

“It’s brilliant,” I said. “It really is what life is all about.” I pulled Shinola’s fist off the nappy tape and sealed her up. “I can’t believe there was ever a time when I didn’t have her.” Which was true in more ways than one; I could hardly go to the toilet without taking her with me.

Shinola went red and rigid at the same time.

“Maybe you did it up too tight,” Shanee suggested.

Since it was the first time I’d seen her since Shinola was born, I didn’t snap at her the way I would have snapped at Hilary Spiggs.

“It’s not too tight,” I said, watching the greeny-brown mess that was baby diarrhoea creep out on to her thighs. “She’s got the splatters.”

Shanee told me all about her holiday while I put another nappy on Shinola. I was too busy clucking and cooing over Shinola to really listen.

Shanee followed me into the kitchen when I went to feed Shinola.

She was still banging on about her holiday and some boy she met who took her for a ride on his motorcycle.

“Wow,” I said, juggling Shinola and clucking and cooing. “That sounds cool.”

“So,” said Shanee. “How’s Les?”

I couldn’t tell her I hadn’t seen Les yet – or even talked to him. I didn’t want her to start telling me she told me so or feeling sorry for me.

I swung Shinola so Shanee could get a full view of her. “You should’ve seen her when she was just born,” I said. “She looked like a frog.”

“She still looks a bit like a frog,” said Shanee.

When Gerri rang I told her that motherhood was brilliant, too.

“You’ve got to come over and see her,” I said. “She’s amazing.”

Gerri started going on about some boy she’d met at some party.

“It’s incredible how fast they grow,” I said. “I swear she changes every day.”

“I thought it was you who did the changing,” said Gerri.

Amie wanted to know about my figure. “Are you doing exercises?” she asked. “Is your stomach still floppy?”

“Wait till you see her,” I said. “Yesterday she smiled at me. I know everybody says it’s just gas, but she really smiled.”

“So what else have you been doing?” asked Amie.

“I’ve got to go, Amie. Shinola’s crying.”

“I’m back,” said Les. “I’m sorry I didn’t ring sooner. I’ve been busy.”

I was so relieved he’d phoned when the Spiggs wasn’t home that I didn’t even mind that it had taken him a week to get round to it.

“Me, too,” I said.

Les laughed. “What have you been doing, shopping?”

I laughed, too. “No,” I said. “I had the baby. Our baby.”

Les said, “What?”

“The baby,” I repeated. “I had it. That’s what happens after you’ve been pregnant for nine months,” I explained. “You give birth.”

“Geez,” said Les.

“It’s a girl,” I said, since he didn’t ask. “I called her Shinola.”

“Shinola?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” Les cleared his throat. “What is it, African or something?”

I said I didn’t think so. I said it meant sunny morning in Indian or something like that.

“That’s great,” said Les. “That’s really great.” I could hear his voice change gear. “I’ll ring you later, Lana. I’ve got to go.”

Since I was always tired, I fell asleep at every chance I got, usually in front of the telly. And since Les still hadn’t come round, I dreamt about him a lot.

I was dreaming that Les took me and Shinola to Disneyland Paris.

When Charley took me and Hilary to Disney World we stayed with his sister who lives in Florida, but Les got us a room in one of the hotels at the park. Our room was pink and had a white canopy bed and a crystal chandelier. It was the Cinderella suite. Les had booked it specially. There was a little room off the main bedroom for Shinola. It had one of those cradles that rock back and forth like you see in fairy stories, all white net and ruffles and little pink bows.

Shinola was sleeping in her little room and Les and I were getting ready for supper. There was a maid who’d look after Shinola while we went downstairs to eat so we didn’t have to stay in our room. After dinner we were going to the disco.

The hotel radio station was playing songs from great Disney classics while I got into my party gear. “Someday My Prince Will Come” was on.

I zipped up my dress. It was a red dress with a tight bodice and spaghetti straps and a slightly flared skirt. I had red heels to match. I sat down at the white and gold dressing-table to put on my make-up. It was just like the dressing-table I’d always wanted (but she would never let me have), with lights around the mirror. Les came up behind me. He started nuzzling my neck and telling me how gorgeous I looked. I pretended I didn’t want him messing up my hair and stuff, but really I couldn’t have cared less.

“Lana…” whispered Les. “Lana … Lana … Lana…”

He was being too rough. I pushed him off.

“Lana … Lana … Lana…”

“Not now.” I pushed him off again. “I have to get ready.”

“Lana … Lana … Lana…” He wasn’t nuzzling me any more. He was shaking me hard.

I pulled away from him. “Get dressed,” I said. “You’ve got to get dressed, too.”

“Not at three in the morning,” said Les.

I opened my eyes. I’d fallen asleep in front of the telly again. But even though I was still half-asleep and blinded I knew it wasn’t Les’s come-to-bed eyes that were staring down at me. I shut my own tight.

“Lana, wake up.”

I risked another look. Hilary was standing over me with no make-up on and her hair in curlers like some monster of the night. I wanted to hit her.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? Can’t you hear Shinola? She’s been crying for ten minutes.”

Then why didn’t she look after her, for God’s sake? I pulled a cushion over my head. “So give her a bottle.”

She threw the cushion on to the floor. “I’m not her mother. She needs you, Lana. Now.”

There was nothing for it, she was going to get me up if she had to drag me off the couch. I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

“I can’t have my sleep disturbed like this every night,” she complained. “I’ve got to go to work.”

She’d taken a week off after I got home from hospital, to look after me and Shinola, and that was hell. But