Page 85 of Always Alchemy

We both woke from our naps a few minutes ago, but he seems as content as I am to lie here and just be. It’s hot beyond these trees, and my interest in thrashing anything out on the tennis court is literally zero. I’d rather lie here, entangled with my little man, our heads close enough that I can inhale the glorious scent of sunshine off his hair and his skin for as long as he lets me.

He’s usually the active one. His elder brother, Jonny, is adreamer and already more interested in books aged five than any child of mine should ever be. Thank God he got some of his father’s genes. He and Nance are probably off reading with Ruth right at this moment, in fact.

Nicky, on the other hand, is rarely seen without an implement for hitting balls. Since he was old enough to walk, he’s trailed cricket bats and hockey sticks and tennis racquets behind him. They’re practically an extension of his little body at this point. This kid is in such a hurry to grow up and do everything his brother and sisters can do, especially the sporty Stel, who he hero-worships.

He and his daddy totally knackered each other out in the pool this afternoon, between volleyball and Marco Polo. When Nicky crashes, he crashes hard. He’s either on or off. No in between. He falls asleep in the weirdest positions—he often looks like he’s mid-stride in his bed when we go up to check on him.

I’m amazed Zach’s still standing. Surely, he too will need a nap before dinner.

‘Swim, Mummy?’ Nicky asks sleepily, and I laugh to myself at this kid’s Duracell bunny powers as I brush his dark hair away from his forehead and give him a kiss. His hair is so soft, but it’s slightly grimy from all the sun cream. There are white streaks of zinc on his forehead.

I love him so much I can barely breathe.

‘How about a night-time swim?’ I murmur against his skin. ‘When the lights are on in the pool?’

He fist-bumps the air with one tiny arm. ‘Yeah. I splash Stel on the floatie.’

I laugh and pull him closer. ‘Of course you will. That’s what little brothers are for.’

My phone pings, and I feel around for it next to me. I unearth it under my thigh and squint at it.

‘Who is it?’ Nicky demands.

‘It’s Caro,’ I tell him. I open the WhatsApp. It’s a thank you message from Stel and Nance’s grandmother, Caroline.

Claire’s mother.

I’ve been bombarding her and Peter with photos from this thirtieth-birthday trip. The girls, who look more like Claire every year, will always be their favourite way of keeping their daughter’s memory alive, but they’ve taken to their granddaughters’ little brothers with great enthusiasm and open-heartedness, and for that I’ll always be grateful beyond belief.

Peter was a wonderful cricketer in his day and still coaches his local team at the weekend. He was underwhelmed by Jonny’s lacklustre reaction to cricket, but he’s already pronounced Nicky a future pro. I personally think the hours he puts in to teaching Nicky to bowl are probably wasted at this age, but it seems to make them both very happy to lark about outside.

Mum and Justin are super-involved, too. Once my mum got over the horror of becoming a grandmother far too young (her words), she embraced the role with her customary gusto. She’s actually been brilliant with Stel, educating her on the importance of good nutrition and helping her get her hormonal acne mostly under control through a decent diet.

Four kids.

Three sets of grandparents.

One old but gorgeous dog.

And one incoming Labrador puppy, whose imminent arrival Zach and I are guarding like a state secret and who will undoubtedly make Norm’s life a misery.

It’s messy, and exhausting, and not where I thought I’d be at thirty, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Alchemy’snow global, so Zach’s role is bigger than ever, and my role has expanded massively. We work from home a lot. It’s easier that way. Once the boys came on board it was clear we’d need a lot more outdoor space, so we’re down near Richmond Park, and neither of us can be arsed to go into the office more than a couple of times a week.

We still head for The Playroom once a fortnight, though. Wink, wink.

We don’t play with anyone else, but my husband likes to show me off. He’s as bad as Rafe.

The weirdest thing is that, despite the chaos, and the noise, and the lack of me-time, I feel more peaceful than I ever thought I could. Belle and I had this chat a few weeks ago, and we identified the feeling as contentment.

Contentment.

Weird, huh? I can’t say it’s an emotion I’ve ever aspired to, but it turns out it’s the healthiest, most restorative type of happiness. Like I’m full. Replenished.

Mum says it’s because I’m spending more time in my ventral nervous system, but then again, she gave me a jade Goop egg for my vagina after Jonny was born, so it’s always best to take what she says with a pinch of salt.

I’m assumingStella won the tennis match, if her elated and not particularly gracious shrieks ofI won!echoing around the grounds of this gorgeous villa are anything to go by.

Sure enough, a moment later she’s running up to me and Nicky, puce and breathless and dripping with sweat. ‘I won! Dad was rubbish!’ she yells as she grabs Nicky under his arms and lifts him out of the hammock.

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