“Oddly, that doesn’t reassure me.” Ari rubs her hands over her face. “Guys, I’m just not ready yet.”
“You’ll never be ready, Ari,” Luis says softly, dropping to the sofa beside her. He lays Reine against his shoulder, rubbing her back, and gives Ari a smile. “Parents aren’t meant to do this alone, you know. It takes a village to raise a child. We’re your village, Ari. We’re here. We want to help.”
“That’s sweet, but I don’t need help. I’m taking care of her, aren’t I?”
Luis and Sebastian make no reply, but Ari sees them exchange a glance. Suddenly, she’s very aware of her unkempt state, her unwashed hair and of the dishes and mugs sitting in piles on the floor. For a moment silence rings out between them, broken only by the muted sounds of a BBC home renovation programme playing on a loop.
“You’re doing an admirable job of raising your child,” Sebastian finally says.
“Yeah, Ari. I mean, look at this kid.” Luis indicates to Reine’s baby soft skin, her downy hair and the clean onesie she wears.“She’s perfect. You’re doing a great job with her... but you’re putting yourself second, and, well...”
“What he means is that you look rough, love,” Sebastian breaks in. “And there’s a bit of an odd smell to you. Like sour milk.”
“Sebbie!” Luis snaps, but Ari sits up, brushing awkwardly at her pyjamas.
“It’s not my fault,” she says miserably. “Reine keeps being sick all over me.”
“So, let us help you,” Luis wheedles. “Let us take the baby. She can be sick on us for a few hours.”
At that, Sebastian pulls a face, but Ari sees Luis give him another sharp look.
“Go and shower,” Luis suggests. “Clean up a little. Or take a walk. Whatever you need.”
Ari nods, watching as Luis bundles Reine into a pink blanket and then the shiny new city jogger by the door.
“You’ll take care of her?” she asks, already feeling regret for agreeing to let her go.
“A jog around the park, espresso for lunch and then a look-see around Kensington? She’ll be fine,” Luis reassures her.
Once Reine is gone, Ari takes a shower, looking at herself in the mirror for a long time. Sebastian is right, she has to acknowledge. She does look rough. Her hair is lank and unwashed, her skin pale with large bags under her eyes. Her breasts ache with milk, and there are blue veins visible under her engorged skin.
“You wouldn’t even recognise me if you saw me now,” she whispers, thinking again of Tom.
She’s always thinking of Tom. These days, every minute of every day, she has a living, breathing and crying reminder of him. Beneath Reine’s dark and baby-fine lashes are a pair ofeyes that exactly match her father’s, and Ari feels an ache when she looks at her daughter. Their daughter, she reminds herself.
He’s missing so much.
Ari busies herself around her flat after her shower, tidying up and washing her and Reine’s clothing and bedding. She indulges in an afternoon nap, but when she wakes at three, to find her flat still empty and Reine still away, an ache in her stomach begins to grow. By the time she hears a key turn in her lock at four, she’s nearly frantic.
“Thank God,” she exclaims, immediately unbuckling Reine from her buggy and holding her close. “Where have you been?” She turns to Luis and Sebastian, who look clean and calm, sifting through the multiple carrier bags attached onto the back of the buggy. “Did you go to Harrods?”
“We wanted afternoon tea,” Sebastian replies calmly. “And then I picked up a few bits for supper in the food hall while Luis took the baby to look at the Barbies.”
“She’s six weeks old.” Ari turns instantly to Luis. “She can only just focus on my face. She’s still considered legally blind. She doesn’t need to look at Barbies.”
“Who said it was for her?” Luis replies jovially, pulling a shiny box from one of his bags and stroking it happily. “I picked up a 1992 Radiant in Red Barbie from the special collection. She’s one for the shelf, I think.”
“Right,” Ari says tightly, although Luis leans forwards, stroking Reine’s head.
“You look better, Ari.”
“And the smell is gone,” Sebastian adds cheerfully, walking into the small kitchen and flicking on the kettle.
“I showered,” she replies. “Thank you.” Her voice grows softer. “I appreciate what you’re both doing for me.” She looks around at the flat. “Everything.”
Luis smiles at her. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry about leaving little Miss Reine with us. So long as we aren’t working—”
“Or at Pilates!” Sebastian shouts from the kitchen.
