Juggling Briefcase & Baby

‘She’ll be back as soon as she can,’ he said with desperation, but Freya only opened her mouth to wail in earnest.

‘Oh, God…oh, God…’ Frantically, he jiggled her up and down, and for a moment he thought it would work. Freya definitely paused in mid-wail, and Lex could practically see her considering whether she was distracted enough to stop crying altogether, but she evidently decided that she wasn’t ready to be consoled just yet because off she went again, at ear-splitting volume.

‘Shh… Shh…’ Lex had a sudden vision of Romy walking Freya around the pub at lunchtime, so he set off around the room, jiggling the baby awkwardly as he went.

To his astonishment, this seemed to do the trick. Freya’s screams subsided to snuffly sobs, and then stopped altogether.

Perhaps there wasn’t so much to this baby business, after all? Obviously, the child just needed a firm hand.

Bored of circling the library, Lex stopped and put Freya on the carpet. She promptly started yelling again until he picked her up again, at which point the noise miraculously stopped.

A firm hand. Right.

Lex set off on another circuit of the library.

He was on his fifth when the door opened. He looked round, hoping it would be Romy, but instead it was Elspeth, the housekeeper, who had come to clear the tea tray.

‘The wee one must be tired,’ she said, noting the long lashes spiky with tears and the hectic flush in the baby’s cheeks. And Lex’s harassed expression. ‘Would you like me to show you to your room?’

At least it would make a change from the library, thought Lex as he followed Elspeth up more stairs and along a labyrinth of corridors.

‘I feel as if I should be leaving a trail of breadcrumbs,’ he said, and Elspeth smiled as she opened a door at last.

‘It’s not as complicated as it seems the first time,’ she promised as she left.

Lex was dismayed to see her go. He had considered asking her to look after Freya, but that would have meant admitting that he couldn’t cope, and that wasn’t something Lex could do. He wasn’t the kind of person who admitted failure or asked for help.

It would have been different if Elspeth had offered to take Freya. Then he could have legitimately handed her over. But as it was, she simply smiled and assured him that she would make sure Romy knew where they were, and Lex was left to grit his teeth and get on with it.

He found himself in a magnificent guest room, dominated by a four-poster bed, and with swagged curtains at the windows. The cot, pushchair, high chair and assorted baby bags were neatly stacked in the corner, together with his own briefcase and overnight bag, which had clearly been put in here by mistake.

It was all boding very well for the deal, he thought. If Romy, as a very junior member of the negotiating team, had been allocated a room like this, Willie Grant must be doing more than considering their offer.

Feeling more confident, Lex tried putting Freya down again, but she was having none of it. She insisted on being picked up again, and amused herself for the next few minutes by pulling at his hair, batting his nose and trying to twist his lips with surprisingly strong little fingers.

‘Ouch!’ Lex began to get quite ruffled. Where was Romy? It felt as if he had been walking around with Freya for hours now, but when he looked at his watch he was astounded to see that barely thirty minutes had passed since Romy had handed him her daughter and left. Surely she had to be here soon?

Worse was to come.

Wincing as he pulled her fingers from his nose, Lex was alarmed to see that Freya’s face had gone bright red and screwed up with effort.

‘What’s the-?’

He stopped as an unmistakable smell wafted up from her nappy.

‘Oh, God. Oh, no…’

Dangled abruptly at arm’s length, Freya started to cry again.

‘No, no, don’t cry…your mother will be here soon…just hold on…’

But Freya didn’t want to hold on. She was miserable and uncomfortable and missing the reassuring solidity of his body. She cried and cried until Lex, who had been pretending to himself that he didn’t know what needed to be done, was driven to investigating the bag he had seen Romy take to the Ladies with Freya in the pub, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

He did know what had to be done. He just didn’t want to face it.

‘Where are you, Romy?’ he muttered.

The bag contained fresh nappies and a pack of something called baby wipes. Lex made a face, but took the bag and the baby into the bathroom and looked around for a towel. He had a nasty feeling things were going to get messy.

Cursing fluently under his breath, he spread the towel as best he could one-handed, and laid Freya, still screaming, on top of it.

‘Please stop crying,’ he begged her, wrenching at his tie in dismay at the task ahead of him.

In response, Freya redoubled her cries.

‘OK, OK.’ Lex dragged his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. ‘You can do this,’ he told himself.

He rolled up his sleeves and studied the fastenings on Freya’s dungarees. So far, so good. Gingerly, he pulled them off her and then, averting his face, managed to unfasten the nappy.

‘Ugh.’

Grimacing horribly, he tugged the dirty nappy free, holding it out as far away from him as humanly possible, and put it in a waste-paper basket. Then he braced himself for the next stage of the process.

‘God, what am I doing?’ Lex muttered as he pulled off some sheets of loo paper. ‘I’m Chief Executive of Gibson & Grieve. I make deals and I make money. I negotiate. I direct. I don’t wipe bottoms. How did I come to this?’

And then-at last!-came the sound of the door opening. ‘Lex?’ Romy called.

‘In here.’

When Romy crossed to the bathroom door, she saw Lex crouched on the floor, a fistful of loo paper in his hand and Freya kicking and grizzling on a towel in front of him. Both of them looked up at Romy as she appeared in the doorway, with almost identical expressions of relief.

‘Oh, thank God!’ said Lex in heartfelt tones. ‘Where have you been?’

‘With Willie, then I went to the kitchen to find Freya some supper.’

Romy looked from her daughter to Lex. She had never seen him less than immaculate before, but now his hair was standing on end, his tie askew and his sleeves rolled up above his wrists.

He looked so harried that she wanted to laugh, but it seemed less than tactful when he had clearly been doing his best.

‘She was crying,’ Lex said defensively, as if she had demanded to know what he thought he was doing. ‘I thought she needed her nappy changing but I’m not really sure what I’m doing…’

Romy could only guess what that admission had cost him. ‘It was very brave of you to have a go at all,’ she told him. ‘Shall I take over now?’

‘She’s all yours.’

Lex couldn’t get up quickly enough. He watched as Romy cleaned the baby and put on a clean nappy with the minimum of fuss.

‘You make it look so simple,’ he said almost resentfully, and she glanced up at him with a smile.

‘Practice,’ she said.

Freya was wreathed in smiles once more. Romy lifted her up and kissed her, and the tenderness in her expression closed a fist around Lex’s heart and squeezed.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he went back into the bedroom, where a plate of bread and butter with some ham and a banana was sitting on a side table. Freya’s supper, presumably. Lex dreaded to imagine what she would do with that banana.

Not his problem, he reminded himself. Thank God.