And Baby Makes Two

I took her out of the buggy and laid her on my lap. She was being really good. She was awake, but she was gurgling.

Les looked over at her as he sat back down. He reached out a finger and kind of rubbed her chin. I’m sure he didn’t say “Gicheegicheegoo”, but he said something that sounded a lot like “Gicheegicheegoo”. Shinola showed him her gums.

“She really does look like you,” said Les. He said whatever it was he was saying to her again. Shinola bubbled. At least she was bonding all right.

Les started telling me what was happening at work.

It was spite, I knew it was. She couldn’t stand not having everybody’s attention, all the time.

Shinola started to howl.

Les glanced nervously around us.

“Can’t you shut her up?” he hissed. “Everybody’s looking at us like we’re trying to murder her.”

As far as one of us was concerned, Shinola was lucky someone wasn’t trying to murder her.

I smiled, calm and controlled, a proper mother.

“She must be hungry. I’ve got a bottle in her bag.”

“Thank God for that,” breathed Les.

But I didn’t have her bag.

I looked under the table three times, but it wasn’t there.

I groaned. “I must’ve left it on the bus.”

“You should’ve left her on the bus,” joked Les.

People really were looking at us like we were sticking hot knives in her.

“Can’t you take her to the ladies and feed her?” he pleaded.

I always tried not to tell Les the same thing twice, so I didn’t bore him, but I forgot about that rule now.

“I don’t have a bottle,” I said again. “I left her bag on the bus.”

Les looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to go. I’ve got to get to work.”

“But I thought you didn’t have to be there till four.”

“Albie called in sick,” said Les. “I’ve got to be in by two.”

He already had his jacket on.

I knew it wasn’t cool, but I couldn’t help it.

“But when am I going to see you properly? I miss you, Les. It’s been so long.”

His eyes sort of shuffled. “I’ll stop by when I can, Lana, but I can’t do more than that right now.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, what about your birthday? Isn’t that coming up? See if you can get someone to look after her, and we’ll go out. See a film or something. Have a meal.” He winked. “Celebrate.”

Happiness flooded through me. He’d remembered my birthday. And he wanted to have a proper date. Everything was all right.

“That’d be great. I haven’t been to the cinema in ages. I’ll tell the Spiggs I’m going with Shanee.”

“I’ll ring you,” said Les. “You pick the day.”

You never think about it when you watch a film, but most of the time the characters in films have a lot of luck. It may seem like they’re just getting the destiny they deserve because they’re doing what they know is right or whatever, but actually it’s luck.

I knew that because I didn’t have any luck. Unless you were counting bad luck.

Something went wrong with the boiler at the doctor’s where my mother worked and everyone was sent home in case it exploded or something.

I saw her at the window as me and Shinola the Screamer came up the path. She was on the phone. I saw relief in her face for just a second, and then I saw rage.

Oh, no, I thought. Not now…

She slammed the phone down and was in the hall before I’d got the buggy inside.

“Where the hell have you been?” she screeched. “How could you take her out on a day like this?”

“For God’s sake,” I yelled back. “People live in igloos. A little rain’s not going to hurt her.”

She scooped Shinola out of the buggy and disappeared back into the living-room.

I shook out the buggy, and me, and hung my jacket on a hook in the hall.

She was still screeching even though I wasn’t in the room with her.

I didn’t really listen. I’d heard it all before.

“Blahblahblah infection … blahblahblah death of cold … blahblahblah trauma and exhaustion … blahblahblah.”

I went straight to my room to change out of my sopping wet things.

By the time I got to the kitchen, she already had a bottle in Shinola’s mouth.

“She’s starving.” She gave me the same look Mrs Mela used to give me when I didn’t do my homework. “Didn’t you feed her this afternoon?”

Shinola wasn’t the only one who was starving. After Les left I didn’t even stay to have my lunch. There didn’t seem any point – especially with her in the state she was in. I took a packet of biscuits from the cupboard and put the kettle on.

“Of course I fed her,” I lied. “She just never gets enough.”

My mother gave me a look about as sweet as a pint of vinegar, then turned back to the baby.

“Where’s poor little Nola been?” she cooed, all mushy and gooey. “Where did Lana take you?”

“Her name’s Shinola, not Nola.” I thumped the milk carton down on the counter. “And I took her out for some fresh air.”

“In a storm,” said the caring grandmother. She kissed the top of Shinola’s head. “Did Lana take you out in the storm? Did she forget to feed you?”

I slammed the sugar down. “I didn’t forget anything!” I roared. “For the hundredth time, I told you, I fed her.”

“As soon as you finish your bottle, we’ll put you into some nice warm jammys.”

I had to stop myself from throwing the tea caddy at her.

“She isn’t wet!” I screamed. “I’m the one who got soaked to the skin.”

“Who takes a newborn baby out in a hurricane?”

If there’d been a few snow flurries it would’ve been a blizzard.

“I do, that’s who!”

“And what does that prove?” Hilary Spiggs demanded. “The only baby you’ve ever handled in your life is yourself.”

“I’m her mother, not you!” I took Shinola from her so quickly she was too surprised to stop me. “And you can just mind your own bloody business.”

She squashed her lips together and looked at me for a few seconds.

“You’d better watch yourself, young lady,” said the Mother of the Year. “Or I may just do that.”

I told her Shanee wanted to take me out for my birthday.

To my surprise she didn’t even put up a fight.

“That sounds like a good idea,” she said. “You don’t see enough of your friends. Just tell me what night and I’ll make sure I have no plans.”

Saturday was my birthday, but Les had to work on Saturday.

“Friday,” I said. “That’s the only night Shanee can do it.”

“Friday it is, then,” said my mother.

Being so nice and smarmy wasn’t like my mother at all. She had to be up to something. And I was pretty sure I knew what it was. Once I was sixteen, I was applying for my own council flat. Even though she said she couldn’t wait to get rid of me, I reckoned she didn’t want me to go. Then she’d have to admit I was an adult. And then she’d have to treat me like one. For a change. So she was going to try and make herself useful. So I’d want to stay. She had as much chance of that happening as she did of winning an Oscar.

Because the Spiggs threw in looking after Shinola while I got ready, I was not only able to have a real bath