‘I’ll do it. I’m her mother, after all. I know where everything is better than you do. Unless’ – Bridget’s tone darkened – ‘you want to check over my kitchen or something.’
‘Of course not,’ Zoe said, keeping her tone as amiable as she could. The truth was, it had crossed her mind to snooparound and make sure the house was suitable for little Ezra. Today was the first time she’d seen the interior, and it had been as depressingly dilapidated as the exterior had always suggested. However, dilapidated was one thing; unsafe was quite another. She hadn’t seen anything to suggest it might require intervention from her or the appropriate social service, but she hadn’t been given the chance for a really good look.
‘Good, because I don’t want social workers and the like coming in and threatening to take our Ezra away because our cooker isn’t up to scratch.’
‘There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ve all got Ezra’s interests at the front of everything,’ Zoe said. ‘But while we’re on the subject, I don’t know if you’re aware, but now you have a baby here, there are certain things you can get to help make the house better for him. I could put you in touch with?—’
‘Saying the house ain’t good enough?’
‘That’s not what I’m saying. I only meant if you needed anything extra that might help?—’
‘We’ll do as we are, and I’ll thank you not to stick your nose in. Maisie grew up here fine; it’ll be the same for Ezra for as long as he’s here.’
Zoe tried not to frown at the slightly odd turn of phrase.As long as he’s here…Maisie had been planning to move out and share a house with Fern, another expectant mum. There had been a hold-up at the council, and the offer they’d had on a house a couple of months previously had been withdrawn until renovations could be done that would allow it to meet minimum standards. Fern was being a little too well looked after by Corrine up at Daffodil Farm too, and Zoe didn’t blame her for wanting to make the most of that while she could. As for Maisie…well, Zoe suspected Maisie was afraid to tell her mum about her plans to leave. But what Bridget had just said had Zoe wondering whether she’d broached the subject after all.
Bridget turned to Maisie. ‘Hot chocolate, you say?’
‘The mint one, please.’
‘The date’s out on it, but I’m not buying another until it’s been used up.’
Bridget announced this to Maisie, but Zoe couldn’t help feeling it was a challenge to her also. It said:Judge me if you dare.
‘I know.’ Maisie already looked sleepy. ‘It’s only a couple of weeks.’
Zoe said nothing as she started to collect her things, and Bridget went to the kitchen.
‘Thank you…’
Maisie’s voice was suddenly so tiny it caused Zoe to turn sharply. She was ordinarily a softly spoken girl, despite the house she’d been brought up in, which probably demanded her to raise her voice from time to time, but Zoe had been caught off guard. When she looked, she was greeted with the sight of Maisie, seeming not to be addressing her but Ezra. Zoe’s searching expression transformed into a smile as Maisie repeated the words to the little boy. ‘Thank you for being my baby. I’m sorry your dad won’t be around, but I promise to be such a good mum it won’t matter.’
So that she wouldn’t draw attention to the fact she’d overheard, Zoe went back to her packing, the smile warming her face. In the rare moments she questioned her career choice, something like this would make her remember why. New life had a way of transforming everything. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes it made things more challenging, but a new life touched everyone who came into their orbit, in one way or another, however small. But for the most part it was amazing, and Zoe would never tire of seeing it. It brought to mind the hope, which for most of the time she kept in a closed box, that one day she might experience motherhood for herself. Thingswith her boyfriend, Alex, were going so well, they were at the point where the words boyfriend and girlfriend didn’t seem adequate for what they had. They had his daughter Billie and her baby Louisa to fill their days, but she wondered and hoped whether the conversations they had more frequently now about their future together might soon include a baby of their own. Zoe was only thirty-seven, which was old by midwifery standards, but still young enough, though she was increasingly aware as the months rolled by of how fast that window of opportunity was closing.
Without even realising it, Zoe put a hand to her cheek and found a tear there. She sniffed hard and wiped it away, clearing her throat loudly as she fastened her bag.
‘There…all sorted. You’d barely know I was here…apart from the obvious, of course.’
‘Huh?’ Zoe angled her head at Ezra, and Maisie gave a tired smile. ‘Oh, yeah.’
Bridget came back with a mug, which she dumped onto the table next to the sofa where Maisie had elected to give birth. It was draped with sheets and blankets, the plastic Zoe had spread around to protect the furnishings currently poking from the kitchen bin where Bridget had dumped it. Zoe would rather it had been disposed of a little more carefully than that, but in the circumstances, she’d decided not to make a fuss about it. Maisie looked longingly at the mug, quite obviously unable to reach it without disturbing Ezra, which she seemed reluctant to do. And at least Bridget understood that. She propped Maisie up and took the mug to her.
‘Let me take the baby,’ she said. ‘Just while you drink it.’
‘That’s probably a good idea,’ Zoe said. ‘You don’t want to scald him if you spill some.’
Maisie’s expression was tinged with regret as she allowed Bridget to take Ezra. And for a moment, there was a chink in thearmour of the new grandmother as she rocked the little boy to resettle him.
‘He is lovely,’ she said, and it was almost funny how grudgingly the compliment had come out.
‘Beautiful,’ Zoe agreed. ‘You should be very proud – of him and of Maisie. That was one of the easiest births I’ve ever attended, and Maisie was an absolute trouper.’
Maisie smiled as she sipped at her drink, and Zoe waited for Bridget to add to the praise. It seemed she would have to wait a long time, though, because nothing was immediately forthcoming.
‘What about feeding him?’ Maisie added, her contentment transforming into a look of vague panic at the sight of Zoe putting her coat on.
‘I know what to do,’ Bridget said. She continued, turning to Zoe, ‘You can go.’
‘I want to try feeding him myself before I go to bottles,’ Maisie said. ‘And you told me?—’
