Page 103 of Good Sisters

‘Well, she looked like she was smothering in that thing. Get her a proper BabyBjörn carrier and she’ll probably be much happier.’

‘I have one. Shania’s friend gave it to us as a present. I’ve tried her in that and in the car seat and in the electric swing and in the bouncy chair and in the bath and in the buggy but absolutely nothing works. She won’t stop roaring.’

‘Where’s Shania?’

‘She had to go to New York two days ago and suddenly Lemon’s gone mental. I’m on my own here, Sophie. I think there’s something wrong with her.’

I could hear Lemon wailing in the background. It sounded like colic to me.

‘I tried calling Julie, but she’s out at some stupid rugby thing, so I called you.’

‘Gee, thanks. Nice to know I’m not your first choice.’

‘Can you come over?’ His voice was strained.

‘I’ll be there in ten.’

‘Thanks. And could you pick up a few vital things on your way? I haven’t been able to leave the house. I’ll text you a list.’

‘Bloody hell, Gavin. We all had kids we had to look after on our own. You’re not incapacitated, just put her into the buggy and go to the shops. Who cares if she’s roaring?’

‘Can you save the lecture for later? I’m dying here. The only thing I’ve eaten all day is toast and I’ve barely slept in the last two nights.’

‘Welcome to parenthood. Forget about sleep because when they’re teenagers you don’t sleep either – you’re worried about where they are and what they’re up to.’

‘Yeah, okay, just hurry up.’

My phone pinged with Gavin’s list of vital things:

Paracetamol

Bread

Bacon

HP Brown Sauce

Crisps – prawn cocktail flavour

3 Fulfil bars – the orange ones, the dark orange ones not the light ones

3 bottles of Vit-Hit – the green one

Jack laughed when he saw the list. ‘He’s like a teenager in a man’s body. Thank God he met a successful woman.’

‘Aren’t you both lucky you met amazing women?’

‘Yes, we are.’ Jack pulled me close and kissed me. ‘How about I drop you off at Gavin’s, pick up the kids and collect you on the way back?’ he offered.

I peeled myself off the couch, pulled on my trainers and headed out to ‘save’ my brother.

Gavin answered the door unshaven and, frankly, unclean.

‘Thank God.’ He pulled me in, along the apartment hallway and into the TV room, which looked like a bomb had exploded in it.

Jack followed. ‘Mate, you need to sort this out.’

There were nappies, baby clothes, towels, muslin squares, bibs and bottles everywhere. In the middle of the room Lemon was swaying back and forth on a complicated-looking swing, red-faced and roaring.

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