Fabrice was a stocky man, about fifty, with a Mediterranean look about him. I could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on him. He was wearing a dark-brown coat that was too heavy for the time of year, and his balding head twinkled with beads of sweat. Fabrice walked boldly over to the crib and picked up my sleeping baby. Then he cooed and stroked his cheek until Baby Boy began to stir. I stood rigid, frozen to the spot, unable to put into words what I was feeling, and even if I could articulate it, I knew it was best for everyone, especially me and Baby Boy, if I stayed silent.
‘Ain’t he a natural?’ D said as he squeezed my arm, the pressure as always was too firm.
I flashed a smile that felt more painful than the arm squeeze. ‘He is.’ I pressed my other arm against my body, I felt the tingle in my fingertips, my heart pounded. I wondered if both men could hear it. I knew they could sense it, that they could smell my fear. I had learnt that people like them fed off it.
I wanted to ask Fabrice if he had experience with children; if he was a father himself. Perhaps then he would give me some sort of clue as to who he was and what sort of role he was about to play in my life, as he was giving nothing away. Maybe I should have said something, asserted myself. But I stayed silent until finally Fabrice walked towards me, his eyes half closed as though he were stoned.
‘I think someone’s ready for a feed.’ His top lip glistened with sweat as he approached me, his large hands held my son, one around his head, the other cupped under his bottom, as though he were offering him to me for a baptism. I looked him in the eyes, making sure I wasn’t reading the situation wrong, then I slowly reached out my hands, took Baby Boy and pulled him close to my chest. Immediately he began rooting, even though he had only been fed an hour ago.
‘Ah, yes, I thought as much,’ he said with a crooked smile, revealing two gold teeth on the right. ‘We’ll leave you to it.’
D gave Fabrice a friendly slap on the arm. ‘Let’s go and talk business then.’
They disappeared outside, taking a bottle of whisky with them.
Baby Boy had a quick comfort feed and went straight back off, but I did not dare lay him back in his crib. I didn’t want Fabrice picking him up again. I held on to him and even used the toilet with him still in my arms.
I kept hold of Baby Boy, I kept him on me for the rest of day and all night, listening to the whoops and laughs coming from the garden. I clutched the baby to my breast where he stayed content and happy until I heard Fabrice stumble out of the house towards the sounds of the chugging engine of a waiting taxi.
I clutched my baby son tightly to my chest. Still so young, being on me was where he was happiest, but that day we bonded more than ever. Which was what made it so much harder when I finally had to let him go.
Instagram post: 14th May 2019
I feel happy tonight, guys, so I’m having a cold glass of bubbly in the back garden. I bought these glasses from Oliver Bonas about three years ago. I couldn’t resist how beautiful they looked with the gorgeous gold design. And who doesn’t love a bowl-shaped champagne glass – they are so retro, I feel as though I am in the 1920s. I am teaming up with Oliver Bonas when I decorate the spare bedroom. I just love the retro feel of their products and the colours are going to look so great against the grey and white background in the bedroom. Once I begin, I will post a before shot and have you guys help me out making all the choices for which key pieces to use in there. It’s going to be such great fun and I can’t wait to get started. Until then, chin-chin, and have a great evening.
Mrs C x
#champers #champagne #oliverbonas #mrsclean
178,223 likes
parfait91 Aww enjoy your day.
lucybest65 Bit sad drinking on your own. Where’s your family? Any friends?
happyhev I would be quite happy for everyone to leave me alone. Especially mardy trolls like you @lucybest65.
jerico88 Have a great day, you deserve it.
plainjane00 What gorgeous glasses, I need to get some of those right now.
lucybest65 Hello, is no one listening, this woman is weird? There’s something not right…
alanheeks_1 There’s something not right with you, love, @lucybest65. She just said she’s happy – give the girl a sodding break.
24
Now
I was starting to wonder if Karen was right and that maybe I needed to think about some more therapy. I had felt as though I was turning a corner, having some sort of awakening. But now all these emotions and feelings were igniting inside of me, anger, frustration, contentment, like old friends crawling out of the woodwork. Could I trust them after so long? I had been sleepwalking through life, and if these feelings were resurfacing, then I needed to make sure I was fully equipped. I would never forget. I would always live with the regret, the guilt, but maybe the fear could be replaced. Maybe I needed a little more help. Just a final push to get me there. Which was why I picked up the phone the following morning after my impromptu drink with Will and heard the soothing tones of my psychologist’s voice on his recorded answerphone. I left a message, knowing he was always busy in the morning with his clients, but confident he would call back promptly.
As I was leaving a practical lesson that afternoon, my phone rang, and I saw Joe’s name on the screen.
‘Hello,’ Joe said, his soft Scouse accent poured through the
