‘Yep. He’s just on a call.’ My heart sinks a little. I know he works from home as an IT manager a couple of days a week, but I’d hoped that this would be an office day.
I nod – let’s hope it’s a long call – and coo over Poppy’s huge blue eyes and pink milk-plumped cheeks, her impossibly tiny fingers and wisps of soft blonde hair. She is so like Cora, it takes my breath away. ‘Can I hold her?’ I ask.
‘’Course you can, Mum.’
Cora hands her to me, and I’m overcome by a rush of happiness as I hold her close and breathe in her gorgeous scent. Poppy emits a sweet little gurgle and grasps at the cuff of my sleeve. I kiss the top of her head and nuzzle her cheek?—
‘Oh, hi, Josie!’ Zack has appeared in the doorway.
‘Hi, Zack.’ I smile brightly as he comes closer.
‘Watch her head!’ he barks.
‘It’s all right.’ I frown up at him. ‘I do know how to?—’
‘It’s just… her neck,’ he blusters. ‘You have to support it.’
‘Yep! She’s fine…’ Fucking hell, mate, I have held a baby before. Or does he think Cora was made in a laboratory?
‘Their muscles aren’t fully developed at this stage.’
‘No, I realise that,’ I say, my smile set like cement. I alter my position to demonstrate how expertly her neck is being supported and address her directly. ‘Popsy, darling, I brought you a little present…’
‘Come to Daddy, then.’ With a grimace, Zack bends to scoop her from my arms.
I clear my throat and try to catch Cora’s eye, but she won’t look at me. Zack is strolling around the bright, airy room now, taking Poppy to the window in order to soothe her, I assume, from the trauma of being cuddled by her granny for a couple of minutes. ‘Look, sweetie,’ he murmurs. ‘The trees! See the branches blowing?’
I remember my own parents coming down to meet Cora for the first time, soon after she was born. How terrified of London they were: the crowds, the noise, the Underground as baffling to them as a wiring system for a nuclear submarine. Yet there they were, thrilled to hold their grandchild – even my gruff dad, who’d grafted away among men at the engineering works for fifty years. Seeing him being so tender with Cora had caused my heart to swell with love.
Trying to dispel the tension, I pass the gift to Cora. ‘Just a little something for Poppy,’ I say.
‘Oh, Mum. That’s kind of you.’ Carefully, she peels off the Sellotape and eases off the bunny paper from the three picture books. ‘These are sweet.’ She smiles.
‘Those two are just from a charity shop,’ I say.
‘Ah. Right.’ Briefly, she examines them and places them on the table. They’re in perfect condition, and I wiped down their covers just to be sure. But Zack grimaces at them as if I’d fished them out of a septic tank.
‘I remember this one!’ Cora exclaims, brightening now.
‘Yes, you loved it,’ I say, my spirits lifting. ‘From when you were a baby right up until you were about four. We read it so many times?—’
‘The thing is, with charity shops, you don’t really know where it’s been,’ Zack announces hotly.
Cora and I stare up at him. ‘That one’s actually new.’ Blood rushes to my cheeks. ‘I bought it from?—’
‘And I don’t think she’s quite ready for religious indoctrination yet,’ he adds with an infuriating chortle.
For a moment, I can’t form words. ‘It’s… it’s not really religious,’ I murmur.
‘I think you’ll find it is!’
‘Well, yes, I know Noah’s Ark comes from the Bible,’ I say, feeling caught out somehow, as if I’m trying to steal her away to join a sect. ‘But it’s just a sweet story, isn’t it? That’s the focus, really. Just animals!’ I look to Cora for confirmation – or a smile, even – but she’s got up and is asking, ‘Does anyone want coffee or tea?’
‘I’ll make it,’ I say, eager for an excuse to get out of the room, if only for a couple of minutes. ‘The usual for you, Cor?’
‘Yes, please,’ she says tightly.
‘Zack?’
