Page 81 of So Thrilled For You

‘Oh, you’re accusing me of neglect are you?’

‘What?I . . . Did you know he was crying? Couldn’t you hear him?’

‘I . . . he was fine. It was all in hand.’

I can’t help it again. ‘So, you left him that upset . . . on purpose?’ I can’t quite believe it.

‘Fuck you. Like you know anything about being a mother, Steffi. Fuck you.’

My mouth drops open and I’m truly and utterly speechless. With her shots fired, Lauren turns her attention to soothing Woody who’s absorbing up the energy and crying even harder. ‘Baby. Baby. I’m here. I’m here. I’m sorry this strange woman came and bothered you.’

I shake my head.‘Strange woman?Lauren, you asked me to be his godmother.’

She ignores me. ‘Silly woman. You were just trying to sleep and she comes and pokes you and makes you cry.’

‘Lauren, are you being serious? He was crying long before I went in there.’

Her head snaps back. ‘What are you saying?’

I throw my arms up. ‘I’m saying, I just went to the toilet and I could hear him crying and nobody came and it was too much, so I went in and—’

‘Are you saying I’m a shit mother?’

‘What? No. I assumed your baby monitor’s playing up. I was trying to be nice! Helpful! Next time shall I leave your baby screaming alone in the dark for two hours?’

‘How dare you? You don’t know anything.’ Woody’s quietening now. He leans his cheek on Lauren’s shoulder and sucks him thumb, also looking at me accusingly, with a tear-streaked face.

Don’t judge mothers.The rule I live by. Especially mothers that are your friends. I gain nothing but napalm in response. I cannot, literally, say anything about anyone raising any child, in any way, without everyone wanting to rip my head off and swallow it.I don’t understand. Couldn’t possibly. How dare I weigh in on this conversation. Why don’t I wait outside until the selfless martyrs who understand just how much love humans are capable of feeling have finished moaning about their perfect babies they also complain about constantly.Lauren, more than anyone, is someone I’d never judge. She’s one of my oldest and dearest friends – we have each other’s backs. Or that’s what I’ve always assumed. Except, today, earlier, out on the decking, Lauren didn’t have my back at all. She happily bitched about me and now she’s hurling abuse when I was only trying to help. OurGeneva Convention has been dissolved, and, already too pissed off at today, I take off my gloves.

‘I may not be a mother,’ I snap. ‘But I know what it feels like to hear a desperate baby scream alone in the dark. I’m sorry, Lauren, but I couldn’t let that continue. It’s cruel.’

‘He’ssupposedto be left to cry.’

‘What?’

‘The woman said—’

‘What woman? Hitler’s wife?’

‘No, the sleep expert.’

‘That’s not a sleep expert, that’s an abuse expert, asking you to do that. Look at the state of him.’

The word is a cluster bomb that detonates the second it’s out of my mouth. I actually smack my hand over it, like I can catch it before she hears it, but it’s too late. Lauren jerks back so sharply that Woody starts crying again.

‘Are you saying I’m . . .abusingmy child?’

‘No. That’s not what I said.’

‘You?Who knows literally nothing about being a mother, apart from that you don’t want to be one . . . Can’t stop banging on about that can you?’

I put my hand out but stop myself retaliating. Woody’s still screaming and, over it, I can just about hear another commotion downstairs. A man’s voice, the sound of dozens of people getting up.

‘I wasn’t saying that about you, but this woman who said you should leave a baby to cry . . . I mean, Lauren, he wasscreaming.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Excuse me?’

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