“No, I might drop her or hurt her or squeeze her too tightly.”
Meeko was frowning, a mixture of puzzlement and concern on his face. “You did none of those things when she was slippery and not breathing. You brought her to life. She’s much easier to handle now she’s bathed and dressed.”
Adele was offering her the tiny mite.
Fiona’s legs began to shake. “Let me sit down first.” She sat in the black plastic-covered armchair at the side of the bed andMeeko passed Natalie over as though she was a parcel in a party game. Fiona’s arms shook as she cradled the beautiful creature. She tried to be in the moment and focus on Adele’s baby but, despite her positivity of a few moments ago, her mind kept turning tail and racing back through the years. She saw plainly the wrong decisions and roads not taken. She’d thought she was happy. She’d felt sorry for and superior to her colleagues who were trying to juggle stressful jobs, the needs of children, and often, to cap it all, the deterioration of the very relationships that had put them into that position in the first place. Now that compartments were creaking open, she recognised how wrong she’d been and how they’d probably been the ones feeling sorry for the emptiness and sterility ofherlife. She thought she’d had a life well lived and well directed, in which she’d achieved exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it. She’d kept all elements neat and tidy, but maybe thingshadto get messy in order to produce rewards that were worth having. She thought of the mess of blood, mucus and fluid in her bathroom, and the new life that had emerged there, and she started to cry.
“Hey.” Meeko bent over and whispered gently in her ear. “I hope those are tears of happiness on Adele’s part because it’s not the done thing to rain on someone else’s parade.”
“Natalie is absolutely gorgeous, Adele.” Fiona kissed the baby’s velvety forehead. “But I think at this early stage in her life she needs to be with her mum.”
There was a brief knock at the door and the midwife returned. “There’s another man arrived, Adele. He says he’s your father?”
“Dad! Yes, I want to see him.”
This was the excuse Fiona needed. “We’ll disappear. The last thing you need is a Piccadilly Circus in here.” The nurse held the door open for them.
Outside Fiona zipped her thin jacket against the cold night air and realised in the mad rush to leave the house that she’d brought only her phone and door key, no handbag and no money. Meeko drove her home without being asked. Whatever the issue between them, his generosity hadn’t changed.
“Thanks,” she said when he stopped outside the house. The journey had been mostly in silence. Despite the momentous evening, Meeko seemed not to want to talk. Something still wasn’t quite right between them.
“Are you going to be OK?” he asked as she undid her seat belt. “You got quite emotional over Natalie.”
“I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t look at him in case tears leaked out again. “She just reminded me of another time and another place.” She was on the verge of flinging open the compartment door and telling him everything, but something about the coolness between them was warning her off. She took his hand from where it rested on the gear lever and squeezed it. “Thanks for everything you’ve done tonight. Without you, the end result could’ve been completely different.” He gave a small smile but didn’t return the pressure on her hand. He merely stared pointedly at the passenger door handle. “Don’t forget Christmas lunch tomorrow, or should I say today?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I think it’s better I don’t come.”
“Why?” Something was more wrong than she’d thought.
“You’ve got a lot on your plate, and . . .” He was glancing in the rear-view mirror now as though he was impatient for her to be out of the car and on her way.
“It’s no trouble, honestly. Sleep on it and decide in the morning.”
There was a non-committal shrug from Meeko but no words. Fiona went into the house. She was sure he’d show up — he never turned down free food. After they’d eaten, she’d find a wayfor them to be on their own. They both had things they needed to get off their chests.
She climbed into bed without brushing her teeth in order to avoid the bathroom. She’d stepped onto an emotional rollercoaster and couldn’t get off. Beneath her eyelids scenes from the last six hours played on a continual loop: again and again she plummeted downwards when no taxi or ambulance was available and Adele was increasingly distressed, and then there was the slow rise of hope when Meeko turned up, and the highest plateau reached when mother and baby were both safe and well. And then downwards again as she realised that her suspicions at the baby shower were correct and there was an issue between her and Meeko. Something big that he wasn’t going to share with her. Not knowing what had caused the problem between them put her out of control. There was no chance of sleep, despite the red digits of the alarm clock telling her it was 3.30 a.m.
Fiona got up, put on her oldest clothes and started the gargantuan task of cleaning up.
Chapter 31
Dawn was breaking as Fiona checked that she’d gathered together all of the towels and cloths and the bathmat that had become victim to either the process of giving birth or the process of cleaning up afterwards. She switched the dial on the washing machine to the hottest and longest wash and hoped that magic would be worked. The noise of the machine filling with water must have drowned the sound of Joe’s key in the lock because as she turned to deal with the murky water in the mop bucket, he was standing in the kitchen doorway. He looked exhausted and elated at the same time.
“How is she?” Fiona had planned to get angry with him. What was the point of a mobile phone if he kept it switched off? But the physical exertion of cleaning and the strangely different atmosphere of Christmas morning had calmed her.
“Mother or baby?” He sank onto a chair. “They are both beautiful. Rose will be beside herself for missing these special early moments. She doesn’t even know we are grandparents.” Joe put his head in his hands and sobbed.
Fiona felt uncomfortable and fiddled with the mop. The shared histories of the ex-spouses, daughter and now granddaughter were stronger than the single year shared at arm’s length by herself and Joe. Were the feelings of love he’d previously professed for Fiona genuine or, as her mother had suggested, was it a relationship of convenience on both their parts? She rinsed the mop bucket out at the sink. The sobbing became quieter but when she turned around his head was still in his hands.
Fiona stuck the mop in the corner by the back door and went over to Joe. She gently removed his hands from his face and helped him sit up straight. “Tell me exactly how they’re both doing.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Joe didn’t needall her emotional baggage brought to the situation. “Natalie is a poppet — it’s the first time I’ve ever held a newborn baby. The first time I’ve ever seen a new life come into the world. It was magical.” She didn’t mention her own terror the previous evening or the wildness of Adele’s screams. Let Joe have only the beautiful pictures in his head. She handed him the kitchen roll. He blew his nose and dabbed his eyes.
“She told me . . . you saved . . .” he spoke haltingly around the sobs, “both their . . . lives. And Meeko . . . apparently, he’s a knight in shining armour . . . Thank you. I knew it was near her . . . time. I should have been contactable.” Then he looked up at her and stroked her cheek. “You are a damn fine woman, Fiona.”
His words made her glow. “Anyone would’ve done the same. And Meeko saved the day by getting us to hospital.”
“Meeko.” Joe stared down at the crumpled tissue in his hand. “The yoga teacher turned Santa turned demigod. His name keeps getting mentioned by you, and now by Adele.” An edge had come into his voice.
“He’s a friend.”At least he was until an invisible iceberg slid between us.“A purely platonic friend.”