Page 80 of Christmas at the Movies
‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘Just tired.’
Pull yourself together, thought Sarah. If people thought she was losing her mind, they might take Nick and Holly away from her.
The library was closing, so Sarah checked out some picture books for Holly – including one about sheep – and stowed them under the pram.
‘Look after yourself, Sarah,’ said Pam, handing her back the library card. She smiled at Holly. ‘And be sure to help your mummy.’
As soon as they got home, Nick began to fuss so Sarah fed him. Then, holding him over her shoulder, she hung damp Babygros and school uniforms on the rickety wooden clothes airer, while Holly sang to herself and crawled around the floor, pretending to be a sheep. When the washing was all hung, she put Nick in his baby bouncer and started on dinner.
As she chopped vegetables for pasta sauce, the sharp blade flashed. Suddenly, a terrible thought popped into her head. What if the knife flew out of her hand and stabbed one of the children?
Sarah set down the knife, trying unsuccessfully to banish the intrusive thought.
‘I’m hungry,’ whined Holly.
Nick started to grizzle in the bouncer.
The witching hour had begun.
Sarah quickly sautéed the vegetables, dumped in a tin of chopped tomatoes and sprinkled in some seasoning. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.
‘Let’s read my new book.’ Holly came over holding the book about sheep.
‘I can’t right now. Mummy needs to finish making dinner.’ She gave the bubbling tomato sauce a stir. ‘Why don’t you do some colouring.’
‘No!’ shouted Holly. She threw the book on the ground.
‘Pick that up,’ said Sarah.
Holly threw herself on the ground and beat her fists against the floor, howling. People had said to expect a bit of regression once the baby arrived. This was a full-on toddler tantrum – and Sarah simply couldn’t cope with it. Not on less than two hours of sleep.
‘Stop that right now!’ shouted Sarah. ‘You are not a baby, you’re a big girl. Didn’t you hear what Pam said about being Mummy’s helper.’
Nick began to wail too. Taking him out of the bouncer, she saw that poo was seeping up the back of his nappy, staining his Babygro.
Sarah wearily took him upstairs to change his nappy. She stripped off his stained onesie and cleaned him off. The soft spot on his nearly bald head pulsed as he squirmed on the changing mat. It was a terrifying reminder of her baby’s fragility.
What if I accidentally drop him?
She couldn’t get the image out of her head.
It was suspiciously quiet downstairs. ‘Are you OK down there, Holly?’ she called, as she wrestled Nick into clean clothes.
‘I’m being a good girl, Mummy,’ Holly called back.
The smell of sauce wafted up the stairs. Sarah’s stomach rumbled again.
‘Listen, little guy …’ She tickled the baby’s tummy. ‘Can I finish making dinner before you kick off again?’
He stared up at her with big blue eyes, as if searching her face for clues. Sometimes Sarah got the uncanny feeling that he could sense her mood.
Sarah carried him downstairs and into the kitchen. Her eyes widened in alarm as she saw that Holly had pushed a chair over to the stove. She was holding a wooden spoon and leaning dangerously over the boiling pot.
‘Look, Mama,’ she said, grinning. ‘I’m helping make dinner.’
‘No!’ shouted Sarah.
Holding Nick with one arm, she crossed the kitchen in two bounds and scooped Holly up, yanking her away from the heat. As she did so, her elbow knocked over the pot, spilling sauce all over the floor and wall.
