Page 20 of Daydreams & Doughnut Cake

Is she ill?

I stared at her, feeling scared and utterly useless.

Her little face was red with rage and there was nothing I could do to comfort her. It was my fault she cried so often. I never knew what to do so it was no wonder we hadn’t bonded like you were supposed to... like they said in all the baby books.

I bent and picked her up again, holding her close and saying sorry over and over again.

‘Sorry for being such a terrible mother,’ I whispered, rubbing her back gently, desperate to calm the heart-rending cries. ‘You deserve the best, my darling. But all you’ve got is me and I’m so sorry for that.’

Suddenly, Isla gave a giant burp. She stopped crying and looked at me in surprise. Then she nestled her soft head into my neck and I breathed in her lovely baby smell as the tears continued to drip down my cheeks.

‘Is that all you needed, my love?’ I whispered. ‘A burp? I should have known that. Why didn’t I know that?’

By the time I heard Zak’s car pulling up – he was back from his writers’ group meeting – I’d managed to have a shower while Isla was asleep. Out of my pyjamas for the first time that day, I’d dressed in clean jeans and T-shirt, and I was quite ready to be my normal cheerful self when Zak came into the kitchen to ask me how my day had gone.

He was really busy and he didn’t need the worry of having a wife who couldn’t cope with the arrival of their longed-for baby.

So tonight, I would laugh at his jokes and pretend that Isla and I had spent another lovely day together.

Because that’s how it was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

Rosie

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Pauline and Nigel were quite surprised to see me back so early.

After Ellie had greeted us at the door, apologising for having to cancel on us, we’d called at the Swan Hotel bar on Sunnybrook High Street for one drink before heading home. So it wasn’t even nine o’clock by the time I arrived home.

‘I hope she behaved for you?’ I smiled, as the pair got up to greet me.

‘Oh, she was lovely, bless her,’ said Pauline cheerfully as she searched for her handbag. ‘We had a riotous time with her daft board games.’

‘Best laugh I’ve had a for a while,’ agreed Nigel. ‘Pauline took her up to bed about half an hour ago.’

‘Hope that wasn’t too late,’ said Pauline, wincing apologetically.

I laughed. ‘No, no. She was obviously having a great time with you so I wouldn’t have wanted to spoil the party!’

‘Well, when I checked on her a minute ago, she was fast asleep, hugging her bear.’ Pauline smiled at her husband. ‘We’re always happy to babysit, aren’t we, Nigel?’

‘Absolutely. Any time you need us.’ Spotting the handbag on the floor by the sofa, he held it up for Pauline with a smile. ‘This what you’re looking for?’

‘Thanks, love.’ At the door, she confided, ‘We really miss the grandchildren. Manchester’s not very handy for seeing them regularly. So it’s lovely to spend time with Amelie. She’s such a little angel.’

I chuckled. ‘She can also be a little devil at times. But I’m very glad she was good for you tonight.’

‘She was,’ said Nigel. ‘And by the way, compliments to the chef.’ He grinned. ‘That curry was absolutely first class. You can definitely count on two more market day customers.’

Pauline nodded. ‘We’re going to drive along to Lockley Meadow tomorrow, so we’ll see you then.’

Feeling grateful to have such fabulous neighbours, I waved them off and retreated inside. Knowing there were people around who you could turn to in an emergency was such a comfort. I climbed the stairs and checked on Amelie, and was glad to see that she was still curled up fast asleep with her favourite bear.

Despite the evening not going to plan, it had been lovely to go out for a change and spend time with the others, and I refused to let Clare’s sudden appearance get me down.

I was still convinced the anonymous note was from her. Clare could be sneaky and quite scheming at times. I knew that from past experience. Although why she’d send me such a sinister note, I had no idea. Perhaps she was still annoyed at me for leaving Brighton in a hurry the way I did.

Sending an anonymous letter was rather a cowardly act, though. I’d have respected her more if she’d decided to find out when I was on shift at the café so she could confront me in person.

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