Sarah scooped Sophie into her arms. It took a moment to find a comfortable position for her on her hip, but then, exhaling a series of little sighs, Sophie finally stopped crying.
‘Oh my days! Silence.’ Lucy, clearly very frustrated and emotional, threw herself back on the chair in the corner.
Sarah discretely surveyed the room. It was littered with baby clothes, toys, pacifiers, nappies and bottles, while a breast pump and its many attachments had taken up residence on the sideboard. ‘Let me help you.’ Sarah walked over to Lucy and put her spare hand on her shoulder. ‘You shouldn’t have to do this alone.’
Lucy burst into tears. ‘I’m trying . . . so hard . . . but . . . and they aren’t . . .’ She gestured to the room next door, where her in-laws were sleeping.
‘You don’t need to explain. I know. It’s tough.’ Sophie gurgled in her arms, trying to reach for a lock of Sarah’s hair.
‘If you’re comfortable with it, let me take Sophie for a few hours. I will try to settle her so you can get some sleep.’
There was another outburst of tears from Lucy. ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you have a sling or carrier?’
‘Yes!’ Lucy bounced from the chair and began rifling through the mess. ‘Here.’ She handed the grey carrier to Sarah. ‘You just need to adjust it.’ Lucy took Sophie from Sarah and the two of them readjusted the straps to fit Sarah’s torso. Lucy manoeuvred Sophie into the saddle, while Sarah tightened and fiddled with the straps a final time.
‘There. That feels ok.’ Sarah pulled on the hem of her t-shirt, which had bunched up under Sophie. ‘Now, do you have milk? Or formula?’
‘Yes. Here.’ She passed a bottle of expressed milk to Sarah. ‘She just fed, so she should be fine for the next few hours.’
‘Nappies? Wipes? Bib? A light wrap?’ They joined the mounting pile of goods. ‘Far be it from me to suggest this, but I think you should take a moment to tidy up. Then have a nice cool shower. Open the window a bit. Get some fresh air in. Jump into your PJs. And try to get some sleep. The sound of the rain will help.’ Lucy nodded, blowing her nose on a soggy tissue. ‘Sophie and I will be fine. If I need anything, I’ll pop straight back.’
‘You’re so kind, Sarah,’ Lucy sniffed. ‘How can I thank you?’
‘By getting some sleep. Go. I’ve got this.’ Collecting Sophie’s things, she left Lucy’s room and tiptoed her way down the hall.
Sophie’s little head craned as far back as the carrier would allow, itching to watch Sarah, who was descending the stairs to the ground floor. Sarah turned on the small lamp by the reception desk, and the long hall was suddenly illuminated by a gentle low light. ‘There, that’s better,’ she said softly to Sophie, gently stroking the back of the carrier. ‘Why are you giving your mum such a hard time, huh? She’s trying her best, you know.’ Sophie gurgled, then let out a large burp. ‘Oh, was that the problem? Does that feel better?’ Sarah felt Sophie’s little body relax in the carrier. Her arms and legs flopped and swayed with the movement of Sarah’s steps.
Dropping the baby paraphernalia on the dining table, Sarah took the muslin and wrapped it around Sophie, tucking the ends between the carrier and her torso. Sophie gave a little sigh, and nuzzled her way into Sarah’s chest. ‘Oh, no, sorry, darling. I’ve got nothing in there for you. That’s Mum’s job.’ Carefully, she turned Sophie’s neck so that her cheek lay flush against her chest, and cradled her dangling feet in her hands. ‘Let’s go for a little walk. Leave Mum to have a sleep. She’ll feel better in a few hours.’
Slowly and methodically, Sarah began pacing. She soothed Sophie’s little noises and wriggles with lulled hushes, and backrubs. Dropping her head to the soft skin and downy hair of Sophie’s crown, she whispered, ‘Good girl, Soph. Have a little sleep, sweetheart.’
Little did Sarah know that Matthew was watching her from the narrow gap of their slightly open bedroom door. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. For a moment he had been tempted to offer some help, but he didn’t want to risk disturbing Sophie, who was now settled and quiet. Sarah continued to walk circles around the hall, bobbing gently up and down, every now and then stopping to adjust Sophie’s arms or legs.
Matthew watched as Sarah caught Sophie’s little hands and allowed her tiny fingers to wrap around her thumbs. Sarah looked perfectly angelic, the golden light from the lamp catching the blonde tint to her hair.
Sarah, who was enjoying Sophie’s warmth and smell, peered over the carrier’s muffle, and smiled to find she was sound asleep. Giving her a gentle caress on the top of her head, she made her way to one of the wingback chairs and carefully lowered herself down. She unfolded the muslin, and wrapped it around the both of them, keeping the night air off Sophie. Softly, she began to hum Brahms’s lullaby, running the tips of her fingers up and down the back of the carrier. Other than the gentle patter of the rain against the tiles of the courtyard, the only other sound to be heard was that of Sophie’s gentle breathing.
Matthew was so very taken by the scene – Sarah’s compassion, her kind-hearted nature, her maternal instinct – that time eventually got away from him. He was reluctant to return to bed, but eventually did so all the same.
The only comfortable position he could find was on his side, facing inwards to where Sarah would have been. He reached out his hand and ran his palm across the smooth cotton sheet. It was cold. As he pulled the covers over his shoulders, he looked across at the empty pillow next to his, and missed her.
It hit him suddenly: at the end of the journey, when all was said and done, Sarah might walk out of his life. This realisation tortured him for the hour that followed, before his anxious mind succumbed to sleep.
Sarah never made it back to bed. She stayed up all night with Sophie, too afraid to fall asleep with her in her arms and not wanting to disturb Lucy, who was finally catching up on much-needed rest. It was a small price to pay to ensure both were ready for the day, Sarah had told herself.
Lucy had emerged just before breakfast, apologetic for having slept so long. Sarah waved the apologies away, delighted to see Lucy now fresh-faced and looking much happier.
After breakfast, Sarah excused herself and returned to their bedroom for the first time since midnight. She closed the window shutters, changed back into her slip and crawled into bed.
Matthew had seen her duck away and followed, concerned by the dark circles under her eyes and lack of her usual spark and enthusiasm. He gave a gentle knock on the door before entering the darkened room. ‘You ok?’ he whispered, making his way for the bed.
A meek voice replied, ‘Yep.’ Sarah was curled in a tight ball under the covers with her back to Matthew. ‘I’m fine.’
When I’m upset, please . . . Check in on me . . .
Sensing an evasive edge to her tone, Matthew kicked off his shoes and slid into the bed next to her. As soon as his arms found their way around her middle, Sarah burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
