I shook my head. “Because you get judged. You have – one of those – and they assume you’ll be leaving early, getting there late and taking additional time off because of care issues, all of which are kind of true. And – I want to keep it separate.”
She sipped her wine as if it was some sort of youth giving elixir. “You’re making a mistake. At some point, they’ll find out and then you’ll look like you were hiding a dirty little secret. I get not making a big deal of it; the parents at work who are constantly going on about how little Amarinta or Ebenezer are responding with pure cotton nappies on their delicate derrieres…” She rolled her eyes. “But you shouldn’t be ashamed of the best thing you’ve ever done.” Her gaze landed back on Rose.
My sister adored her niece. I was well aware that if I told Rosenoto cookies or chocolate, she’d tap Olivia up for them and get them, along with the wordsdon’t tell Mummy.
“I’m not ashamed.” I was proud of my daughter, and of myself. But the story behind her conception and the subsequent fallout were not moments in time I wanted to relive. It was fair to say, her biological father had done a number on me, and was part of the reason I’d moved.
“So start being proud of her and that you’re an amazing mother who is doing incredibly well at her career. Winning on all counts.” She tapped my glass with hers.
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Apart from the fact I see my friends about once a year and have no life.”
“Look at what you have got rather than not.”
“You sound like Mum.”
Liv glared. “Wash your mouth out.”
I laughed; Liv hated being compared to our mother, even though we both had great relationships with her, she irritated us in different ways.
“One of the senior partners has just had another baby.” I thought back to this morning in the café with Claire and Payton. It felt like days ago. “She breastfed her during the partners’ briefing this morning.”
“And you seriously think them knowing you’re a mum will be a problem?” Olivia shook her head and somehow managed to look even more disgusted.
I smiled at the waiter, coming to take our order. He couldn’t have had better timing.
A spag bol, sage and pumpkin quattroni and aubergine parmigiana ordered, Liv still waited for an answer.
“Thank you.” I gave the waiter a brilliant smile and waited for him to disappear. “No, it won’t be a problem. I think Claire O’Hara will rip the penis off anyone who suggests having children puts a blocker on your career.”
Olivia’s grin made her look a little like a cannibal awaiting its main course.
“Mummy, what’s a penis?” My daughter looked up from her book.
Fuckity fuck fuck.
“It’s what a boy or a man wees out of.”
“Oh.”
Oh? That was it?
“James called it his willy.”
Double fuckity fuck fuck.
“Who’s James, Rose?” I moved the books from my daughter’s hands.
Her eyes were big and hazel, wide with innocence, as she looked up at me.
“He goes to nursery and he got his willy out and pointed at it.” She wrinkled her nose. “He got told off.”
“Good. Private parts stay private. And James needs to keep his private.”
She pulled another face. “It didn’t look nice.”
I made the mistake of looking at Olivia who was trying not to die laughing.
“Penises don’t look nice. They’re ugly.” I was pretty sure I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen one, other than Rose’s dad, before I knew I was pregnant.
