Page 52 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘Give Alfie our love,’ Leah had said as Camille left the room.

Monica reappeared now in the doorway. ‘Do you…’ she began.

‘We thought we’d stay and help you with the mess,’ Grace said. ‘You’ve got enough on your plate.’

‘Honestly, it’s…’ Monica began. But then the baby monitor burst into life as Bella finally realised her tummy was empty. ‘Actually, thanks,’ she said, disappearing for a moment, then reappearing with a sniffing baby on her shoulder.

It was the first time they’d seen Bella outside of the photos and Leah had a sudden urge to reach out and touch the little girl’s hand. She was astonishingly small, in a white, fluffy onesie that dwarfed her tiny frame. ‘Oh, she’s beautiful,’ she said.

‘Do you want to hold her?’

‘I’d love to,’ Leah found herself saying. ‘If you don’t mind.’

‘Not at all, gives me a rest,’ Monica said, passing the tiny bundle to Leah. Leah gathered the little girl against herself and felt the warm fragility of her tiny body beneath the onesie.

‘Oh,’ she sighed, as Bella snuggled her head into her shoulder. ‘Oh, she’s just lovely.’

A memory came to her: Scarlett snuggling on her like this at the hospital. All the times Leah had held her during childhood: at bedtime, when she was hurt, when she was scared, or happy. Or sometimes ‘just because.’ When had the last time been? If she’d known it would be the last hug she’d have with her daughter, she’d have held on forever, she thought. Or at least committed every moment to memory.

She felt the tears coming but managed to choke them back before anything was noticed. ‘Why don’t you sit down with the baby, and Monica and I can wash up?’ Grace suggested.

‘That’d be great, if you don’t mind,’ Monica said. ‘I can warm up her bottle. But not if you don’t want to, of course…’

‘I’d love to,’ Leah said, firmly. She wasn’t about to let this little bundle go – at least not for now.

‘I know you’re meant to breastfeed, and I did try but…’ Monica began.

‘Don’t worry,’ Grace said. ‘Honestly.’

Leah remembered feeling similarly when she hadn’t been able to feed Scarlett. That feeling of having fallen at the first hurdle. ‘I couldn’t either,’ she said. ‘And honestly, you can only do your best.’ She couldn’t help but hear herself, her voice confident in the quiet room. She couldn’t let on to Monica especially how lost she was right now as a mother, how she’d swap her current concerns for worries about feeding and nappies in a heartbeat. The first few months of motherhood had felt out of control, but back then, she hadn’t any idea of what would happen later.

Monica smiled tightly and went into the kitchen, with Grace following. Leah sat, feeling the delicate lightness of Bella in her arms, her senses tingling with longing and love for the tiny girl whom she didn’t know. Fourteen years ago, her arms had held another bundle and she remembered thinking how the bond between her and Scarlett would never be broken.

And it still isn’t, she reminded herself. It was just stretched and twisted and sometimes put under pressure. But the bond was still there. It had to be. Scarlett would come back to her once she’d grown up a little more. Still, as she looked at Bella’s tiny, squalling face, Leah wondered whether she’d completely messed up this motherhood thing.

When Monica came back in with a bottle, Leah kept her face focused on Bella so that her friend wouldn’t see the tears that had pooled in her eyes.

‘Sure you’re OK to do this?’ Monica said, uncertainly. ‘I’m happy to…’

‘No, it’s fine. More than fine,’ Leah reassured her. ‘I’d love to.’ She turned her face to Monica with a smile that she hoped looked relaxed and genuine. Hoped that her eyes weren’t shining too much.

‘Everything alright?’ Monica asked.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Ignore me. Just babies… I mean, she’s gorgeous.’

‘Thanks,’ she said.

Monica disappeared to the kitchen, picking up a couple of bowls of half-eaten nuts from the coffee table as she did so. And Leah was left to sit and hold Bella and dream about a time that wasn’t so very long ago, but seemed a million years away.

By the time Monica entered her kitchen, Grace had the washing up well underway.

‘Oh, we have a dishwasher!’ Monica said, as she saw Grace dunk a wine glass into a sink full of suds. ‘You can…’

‘Don’t worry, I’ve started now,’ Grace said with a smile. ‘And I do always think it’s better to wash glasses in the sink. Too much tarnishing in the dishwasher.’

Monica nodded. ‘I suppose I’m just a bit lazy when it comes it that sort of thing,’ she admitted.

Grace gave her a quick look. ‘Well, you’ve got a lot on your plate,’ she said, then nodded at the pile of side plates next to the sink. ‘Literally and metaphorically’ she quipped.

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