Page 10 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
Joe starts to grizzle; shuffling on the spot is clearly starting to lose its appeal.
‘What’s wrong with him? Is he hungry?’ she asks. ‘Make sure you use us, Beth, we can help out whenever you need. And use your sisters. Use Lucy, keep her occupied. If she’s not occupied, she finds mischief. You never heard this from me but she’s very good with children.’
She should hear that from you, I think.
‘I will.’
‘Please remember to hydrate or Joe will have nothing to drink.’
She makes it sound like my jugs will turn to rock and the world will run out of fluids for this baby of mine.
‘I have to go. I’m doing the rounds. I’m calling Meg now,’ she says. It won’t be a call. It will be a battle of wills. ‘Take care of my grandson.’
She hangs up and I exhale softly.I’m trying, Mum.The phone rings again. Why does everyone always call me when I’m out? I stay at home all the bloody time and none of these bastards call me then. This time it’s Will.
‘Beth?’
I respond with a strangled growling sound that a waking sloth might make.
‘That bad?’
‘Mum just rang.’
‘Ouch. Was she awful?’
‘Just her being Mum.’
‘How’s Joe?’
‘We’re in Primark. He hates Primark.’
‘I taught him that,’ he says, laughing.
‘I’m sorry we got you up so late,’ I say. ‘Or is it early? I don’t know anymore.’
‘I just think it’s part of my constitution now.’
Will slipped out of our house at six thirty this morning. I’m not sure what stage of consciousness I was in, but I mumbled something about loving him and he mumbled something about him changing Joe. I wonder if I should get up when he does. We’d sit around a kitchen with freshly brewed coffee, the baby would laugh and we’d wave Will off like he was going to war. Instead, I lay face down on the sofa and heard the door click closed. I fed Joe again and then passed out, awaking two hours later to find the baby still at my nipple and that I’d missed yet more ofThe Crown. Had Joe been drinking the whole time? Could I have drowned him with my milk?
‘Siri? Can you drown a baby when you breastfeed them?’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t understand your question.’
‘What did you have for lunch?’ I ask Will.
‘Food.’
‘What sort of food?’
‘Tasty food. We have these vegan, ethical living sorts who pass through the office once a week. Today they came with tiffin lunch tins. I think I ate jackfruit?’
‘And liked it?’
‘Stranger things have happened. Bloody East London. I also sat opposite a girl on the Tube today who was wearing head to toe acid-wash denim. She was reading Dickens and ate a whole apple. Like even the core.’
‘Then an apple tree will grow in her stomach,’ I reply.
‘That’s what I told her.’
