‘What I mean to say is as long as underneath it all you feel as if you’re on an even keel, that’s the main thing.’
‘Oh. I think so.’
‘You know where I am if you do start to feel you’re struggling…with your mood or anything else.’
‘You’re not going already?’
Zoe gave her most reassuring smile. It wouldn’t be the first time a new mother had looked panicked at her imminent departure. ‘Not just yet, but I will have to soon. I’ll be popping in again on the regular for the next couple of weeks. I’ll be here tomorrow. Do you want me to get you a drink or anything to eat before I go?’
‘Do you have to go?’
‘Eventually.’ Zoe gave a light laugh. ‘I’d like to stay until he’s eighteen, but I don’t know how my boss at the surgery might feel about that. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, and, like I said, you know where I am if you need help. I’m sure Billie will tell you the same thing if you happen to need the sort of help I can’t give. Fern too.’
Maisie nodded slowly. ‘I’m glad there are some other young mums like me in the village now.’
‘Me too – it’s good you all have one another for support. So how about that drink?’
‘Can I have a hot chocolate?’
‘Chocolate? I’m usually asked for tea, but I can manage that. I’m assuming there’s some in the kitchen cupboards?’
‘There should be some left. It’s in a green jar; it’s a mint one. You just put hot water in.’
‘You want something to eat as well?’
Maisie shook her head, her gaze going back to her baby, who was already sleeping. His face was still lined and slightly misshapen from the birth, but his skin was a healthy pink, and Zoe had no doubt he would be as cute as a button in a couple of days. ‘When should I feed him? I thought he’d be hungry as soon as he came out.’
‘All babies are a bit different. We can try to get him to latch on now, if you like. He might just need some encouragement; I’m sure you’re right, though – he’ll want to feed soon.’
‘Will it be all right if I use bottles? I mean, I’ll try this way first, but Mum says it’s a pain when you’re out and they want milk. She says bottles are better.’
‘You can do whatever works for you, but if it’s the convenience that worries you, then I wouldn’t let it. People are a lot more aware of breastfeeding now, and most places you go to have a provision for it. If you can manage to feed Ezra yourself, it will be great for him.’
‘Better than bottles?’
‘That’s the wisdom, though I’m not going to tell you one way or the other what to do because in the end, it has to be your choice.’
‘What would you do?’
Zoe paused for a moment to collect herself, then smiled and wagged a playful finger. ‘Ah, you’re not catching me out like that, Maisie. Ezra is your baby, not mine. It doesn’t matter what I’d do; it matters what works for you.’
‘I only asked because you know so much about it. I don’t want to stuff it up.’
‘Stuff it up?’ Zoe frowned as she folded a blanket.
‘You know, I don’t want to get it wrong. Looking after Ezra, I mean. I’m a bit scared.’
‘That’s why you didn’t want me to go?’
‘I have Mum, but she…well, she tells me different things than you do, and sometimes I’m so confused and?—’
At the sound of the door opening, Maisie’s sentence was cut short. Zoe painted on a smile that was a little too bright and wondered if it was very obvious they’d been talking about her as Bridget walked in.
‘I’ll go and make your drink,’ Zoe told Maisie, only for her to be cut off this time.
‘What drink?’ Bridget demanded, scraping her dirty blonde waves into a ponytail as if she was readying to sprint a marathon. She was wearing the kit too – at least a version of it – jogging bottoms with worn patches in the knees and an ill-fitting sports top.
‘Maisie wanted a hot chocolate.’
