Page 88 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
Lucy doesn’t seem too sure about this type of recompense but when someone is bringing you miso salmon bento and you know they’re pregnant and alone, you don’t turn them away. The afternoon I brought her home, she curled up on my sofa and we binge-watchedGossip Girland we debated about how Penn Badgley has got better-looking over the years like a young George Clooney. I fed her crisps and made her tea, grateful that I hadn’t thrown away the camomile shite my mother had gifted me. She stayed the night on my sofa and left the next morning. She started coming back on random days, usually without warning. She’d look at Joe, watch me change his nappies and hand me wipes. We’d occasionally sit in silence on our phones or have debates over noodles (apparently I should be going brown rice soba. Like that’s going to happen) and about whether it was normal to lust over Zac Efron. The answer is yes since he didBaywatch. When she asked about Will, I panicked and lied, telling her he’d gone away on a trip. Where to? Baku, I blurted out. All sorts of architectural shit happens in Baku, apparently. To have told her the truth would just be too complicated, too sad. And on bad days, she’d stalk Harry on social media. She’d look up his wife and gawp at their family pictures and we’d both do next-level detective work to work out his plan, his agenda. He would post family pictures with pointed comments almost directed at Yasmin talking about family, love, his wife and they would floor her. She’d hold onto her stomach and sob and I’d hand her tissues and not know what to say or do except stuff her with Haribo and let her soak through my sofa cushions.
‘She really is desperate for company then,’ says Lucy.
‘Charming.’
‘Not what I mean. Like, what about her family? Do they not like her?’
Lucy is pushing our niece, Violet, on a swing while she talks to me. Our other niece, Iris, walks precariously over a climbing frame. I don’t think that’s safe. Is that safe? It’s making me very nervous.
‘It’s the pregnancy thing. The shame. Her dad is quite traditional. So I think she’s just attached herself to someone with a child who won’t pass judgement. She remembers you though, she liked you at school,’ I say.
‘Who wouldn’t? I’m a fricking dream. Come on, Vee, let’s see if we can swing you so high you go over the bars.’ Violet’s face reads horror and delight. ‘And so some bloke called Harry is the father and there’s a whole shitstorm there because he’s married? That’s juicy gossip. So she left the rock star? How do we know he’s not the dad?’
‘Because of the dates. He was on tour. And he’s taken custody of the dog.’
‘The one that pissed on you?’
‘Yes. And you can’t tell anyone. Keep that trap shut.’ I realise I may have disclosed all the details to the wrong sister here. ‘I want to make sure she’s OK. She’s given me no clue as to whether she’s keeping the baby or not, but you can tell she just needs someone.’
‘Beth, if she takes advantage of your good nature, I will track her down and beat her.’
She would but to be fair, I think all that Yasmin is seeking out is a warm body to ensure she’s not on her own. What also confuses me is how she doesn’t disclose any of this on her social media. On Instagram, it’s as if nothing has happened. She isn’t letting on that the boyfriend isn’t around anymore. She posts pictures of her cross-legged on her concrete floor and yoga mat looking serene and poised and aligning her chakras. I don’t get it. Mainly because at that early stage of pregnancy when my body was adjusting to those extremes of hormones, I constantly looked like I’d been on a bender and dragged home by my hair.
‘Aunty Lucy, my eyes have gone fuzzy. I’m going to throw up,’ Violet squeals.
‘Get her down, Lucy,’ says a voice from behind us. ‘She’s on my watch.’
Dad appears, Joe in his buggy fast asleep; he’s done the gallant thing of walking Joe around the park a few times so he’ll nod off. After this park visit, Dad is taking charge of the little ones as Lucy and I have plans for a long overdue night out, though I do hope I can stay awake long enough to actually survive it. Lucy catches Violet and allows her to run off to find a bouncy seahorse.
‘I love him so much, Beth. He really is so lovely,’ my dad says to me as he half hugs me. In Joe he has his first grandson – my little one broke the Callaghan girl curse. He treats them all the same regardless – he loves taking Meg’s kids to football matches, he taught Iris how to mend her bike – but he likes to joke that he finally has an ally for when it all gets a bit too screechy. I have no idea what he means.
He is also the kindest, gentlest person I know. He’s a world away from my mother in so many ways – an antidote to her perhaps. Will thinks he always looks a bit shocked. Like all these women appeared around him out of nowhere and he’s still learning how to deal with it. He knows about Will now, even though we tried to keep it from him, and I can see he’s been trying to work out the best way to give advice. Lucy comes over and drapes herself off his shoulders.
‘Not as cute as me when I was a baby though, eh?’
‘He may have you beat, Luce. You looked just like a Pre-Raphaelite cherub, but the noises you made – it could have caused seismic shifts,’ he replies.
I laugh as she pouts. I was five when she was born. It was my earliest memory, my mum introducing us to this mass of platinum-blonde curls.We’re calling her Lucy. That rhymes with juicy,said Meg. We all laughed and she responded by grabbing a handful of Meg’s hair and pulling, hard.
‘AUNTY LUCY! I’M STUCK!’
Our three heads swing around immediately to Iris and then back at Lucy. She’s the only one who’s going to fit up there. She rushes to the rescue and Dad and I take a seat on a nearby bench.
‘It’s all she’s good for these days, eh?’ he says, watching her as she extracts Iris from the top of a ladder. ‘That and keeping your mother on her toes.’
‘Don’t we all do that?’
‘Lucy seems to have a talent for it.’
We sit quietly and he studies me staring into space, picking at some errant spot on my forehead.
‘And Will? How’s all that?’ he asks me.
‘Still AWOL.’
‘That’s a very accurate use of that term.’
‘How so?’
