Page 15 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘Shit?’
‘Strangely competitive. Look how well my baby can keep rhythm and pick things up! And Joe just really wasn’t bothered.’
‘Of course. Because Joe is super smart and knows what’s worth his time.’ My son seems to smile in agreement. ‘And did you see their babies? Joe is bloody handsome. I’ve not seen a better-looking baby and that’s before my own grandkids. And who calls a baby Leonard? That’s just cruel.’
I laugh under my breath. ‘Fanny would have been cruel. I think Leonard is verging on trendy.’
‘And he wasn’t good-looking. Face like a cabbage. She’s just inviting that kid to be beaten up when he’s older.’
‘You can’t say that about a baby, Paddy.’
‘I’ll say what I like when people are obviously not very nice.’ He returns a hand on top of mine. I don’t need him to slag off innocent babies to make me feel better but I’m grateful for it nonetheless.
‘You do have other friends though, yes? Mum friends?’ he asks, concern on his face.
I nod but it’s not really the truth. I mean Facebook and Instagram tell me I have about four hundred friends, really. I’m also members of forums and groups where my friends are random people who swap advice over cheap nappies and start conversation threads that voice their anger over people nicking parent–child parking spots. They’re avatar pictures and emoji friends who I engage with so I can just watch them have heated debates that devolve into raging online fights. I have university friends but they live miles away so they’ve become ‘social media likes and comments’ kinda mates. I guess I have my sisters? I have Will? It’s one of those close-knit circle things.
Platters of fish and chips suddenly make an appearance next to us and I sit back from the table as a bosomy waitress puts them down. The scents of salt, vinegar and deep-fried battered goodness fill my nostrils and my body relents. Feed me this, immediately.
‘Isn’t he a gem? What’s his name?’ The waitress holds on to my baby’s fingers and he gazes up at her.
‘This is Joe.’
‘You’re making my ovaries hurt. Treasure them when they’re like this. They grow up so quickly.’
I never get the meaning of that sentence. At 3.a.m. when he’s howling the place down, I feel no need to treasure that moment. I want to put him on eBay but I don’t say that out loud. She waves at Joe as she walks away and I pick up his hand to wave back. Paddy’s eyes light up at the ‘fat’ chips he so desired and he goes crazy with the condiments. I hope Betty is looking down at this fried feast and smiling. I pick up my glass in front of me.
‘To Betty?’
He nods but doesn’t reply. It should be her sitting here seeing in their fifty years of marriage. The smile, the eyes, tell me how much he misses her. We clink glasses and Joe gurgles in approval. I’m going to have to balance him on my lap now, ensure he doesn’t grab at things and I don’t use him like a napkin. This is the true, delicate balancing act of motherhood.
‘Hello, there little man,’ say a voice, popping up behind me.
It’s a gentleman who was sitting at that meeting a few tables down. He’s dressed in black skinny jeans and a brightly patterned shirt, his black and white peppered hair well styled.
‘I am so sorry to disturb your dinner. I really am. I’m Giles.’
I tentatively go to shake his hand. Paddy looks cautious that he may be another parental acquaintance come to say more awful things to my face.
‘We were just having a meal over there, that’s my team and we just saw your baby and… Is he always like this?’
I am slightly confused by the question. He doesn’t change into Batman in the evenings if that’s what he means?
‘I mean, he’s very good,’ he continues. ‘Very receptive to people.’
As if on cue, Joe reaches up to stroke the man’s beard and inspect if this stranger is to his liking. Giles laughs.
‘He’s generally very good with people. I have a large family so he’s used to it,’ I say.
‘He’s got gorgeous eyes. Is there any Mediterranean in him? I’m assuming you’re Mum?’
I nod. ‘I’m Beth and this is Paddy and the baby is Joe. There’s no Mediterranean there. He’s more chihuahua mixed with koala.’ He laughs in reply. However, the fact he had to question my relationship to Joe makes me think he doesn’t hold my face in the same esteem.
‘He has a very symmetrical face,’ Giles replied. ‘I’m not sure if anyone’s told you that before.’
I now narrow my eyes at him. Paddy grasps his knife and fork tightly in case he needs to intervene.
‘I’m sorry, I’m being weird. I should have just opened with who I am. I’m a creative director – I do commercials, ads, photography. I mean I know that we’ve just met but could you do me and my team the biggest favour, if you’re up for it?’
