Читать книгу A Merry Little Christmas - Julia Williams - Страница 20

Marianne was whizzing round the house gathering up toys and discarded toddler cups, while the twins had a late morning nap. It wasn’t going to be long before they dropped it altogether, so she was making the most of the time while she could. It always amazed her how much chaos two small children could create in a matter of seconds, and the place would be untidy again as soon as they were up, but she did like to have the occasional point in the day when the lounge was pristine.

Marianne plumped up the faded cushions on the sofa, and moved it out so she could start hoovering. Although she and Gabe had brightened the lounge with a cheerful makeover when she’d moved in, they’d made a deliberate choice not to get a new sofa or carpet when they found out about the twins. Which was just as well, as Marianne had lost count of the number of times they’d been sick and spilt drinks over both.

As she moved the sofa back into position, Marianne glanced once more at the envelope on the mantelpiece, practically burning a hole in it. Addressed to the parents of Steven North, with a postmark from Middleminster, there was no mistaking the letter that could change their lives forever. Marianne was dying to open it, but she and Gabe had promised Steven they would let him do it. She’d been staring at it on and off all morning and the suspense was killing her.

Marianne yawned. Gabe had gone out early for a sheep which was in labour, and although she’d tried to get back to sleep, Harry and Daisy had had other ideas. The biggest downside to having them, she decided, was lack of sleep. Marianne had forgotten what it felt like to be fully rested. Although most of the time the twins slept through the night now, they both seemed to think getting Mummy up at around five-thirty a.m. was essential. Marianne tried to compensate by going to bed earlier, but she found by the time she’d cleared up, sorted out dinner for her and Gabriel, and had a short relaxing half hour in front of the telly, it always seemed to be midnight, and either she or Gabe had fallen asleep on the sofa. Just as well they’d decided to stop at the twins, as they had no chance of ever conceiving again.

She heard the first burbling sounds coming from upstairs which indicated that the twins were waking up. She stopped to listen for a moment as Harry gurgled in his cot, and Daisy responded with a giggle. The sounds never failed to brighten her day. Exhausted and frazzled she might be, but the simple chuckling she heard all day from the twins made her exhaustion more than worthwhile.

Marianne went upstairs to their room to find Harry sitting up, playing with the musical toy attached to his cot, while Daisy was wriggling around in hers, laughing. They’d taken a loan out to convert the attic into a bedroom for Steven, so that later on the twins could have a separate room each, while still enabling them to have a spare room. The nursery was cheerful and fun, with stencils of animals she and Gabe had painted on the wall when she was in the middle of her pregnancy. It had been such a lovely time, the three of them anticipating the birth of the twins. Marianne sighed a little. She felt life had become a bit more complicated since then.

‘Come on you two, lunchtime,’ she said. Harry was already trying to climb out of the cot, so she picked him up first and then changed his nappy, by which time Daisy was clamouring to get out. There was certainly never a dull moment with twins.

She took Harry downstairs first, as he was likely to get more grumpy about being left behind, and leaving him in the playpen, went to get Daisy. She’d just settled them down with a few toys when Gabriel came in from the fields, where he’d been working with Dan, for an early lunch.

‘Letter’s here then,’ he said, immediately spotting it on the mantelpiece.

‘Yup,’ said Marianne.

‘Aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?’ said Gabriel.

‘Of course I am,’ said Marianne, as she helped Daisy rebuild a tower that Harry had knocked down.

‘Do you think Steven would mind if …?’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ said Marianne. ‘Steven will kill you if you open it before him.’

‘You’re right,’ said Gabriel, ‘but I’m dying to know. Aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am,’ said Marianne. ‘It’s been driving me nuts all morning. Come on, help me get the twins ready for lunch.’

‘We could always steam it open,’ said Gabe, as he lifted Daisy into her highchair.

‘We so couldn’t,’ said Marianne, strapping Harry into his.

‘Could.’

‘Could doesn’t mean we should,’ said Marianne firmly, going to the fridge to get the toddler-friendly chicken stew she’d made the previous day.

‘He’ll never know,’ said Gabe.

‘He might.’

‘Oh go on,’ said Gabe, helping her fill the bowls with stew, ‘you know you’re as desperate to know as I am.’

Which is how Marianne found herself hurriedly shoving a bit of bread into each of the twins’ hands to keep them going, and turning the kettle on. Gabriel self-consciously held the envelope over the steam, and then carefully opened it.

‘Go on then, what does it say?’

For a moment, Gabriel didn’t say anything, the colour draining from his face. Then he wordlessly handed her the letter.

‘Oh no,’ said Marianne. ‘He failed.’

‘No,’ said Gabriel. ‘He passed. Steven got in to Middleminster. Now what do we do?’

Cat and Noel sat in the busy waiting room at their GP’s surgery, feeling faintly ridiculous. The place was full of old people and young women with small children. Cat felt completely out of place. She shouldn’t be here at all.

‘Pregnant at my age,’ said Cat. ‘It’s mental.’

‘I know it’s not part of the game plan,’ said Noel, reaching out and holding her hand, ‘but I don’t mind. In fact, I’m quite pleased in a way. I kind of miss having little ones around.’

‘You are kidding,’ said Cat raising her eyebrows. ‘When they were little, you couldn’t wait for them to grow up.’

‘Ah yes,’ said Noel, ‘but that was before Mel did.’

Cat laughed.

‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘All those books we read about taming toddlers, and little did we realise having teenagers would be even worse.’

It was true. Cat had fondly imagined when the children were small, that life would improve as they got older, but while physically things had got much easier, she couldn’t claim that parenting had. Cat felt constantly torn by the competing needs of her children. Although Mel’s bad behaviour was her major cause for concern, if she wasn’t worrying about that it was James’ apparent lack of a social life and completely laidback attitude to school, or Paige’s desire to reach adulthood without actually passing through puberty. Ruby at least was relatively straightforward, but at times her relentless upbeat chattering could be utterly exhausting. The thought of adding a baby in the mix was making Cat feel weak at the knees. At least Noel seemed positive about it – just as well one of them was.

Cat sighed, thinking about Mel again. She was so hard to talk to these days. Maybe it was her own fault, wanting so badly to be close to her daughter; perhaps she pushed Mel too much.

‘Do you think I give Mel enough space?’ Cat said to Noel as they sat on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Although Noel did get cross when Mel went too far, he seemed to be more tolerant of her than Cat was, and on the rare occasions when Mel did want to talk, she seemed more likely these days to confide in Noel.

Noel laced his fingers round hers, and kissed her.

‘I think,’ he said, ‘you worry too much. Mel is young and rebellious, just like I was. Don’t force her to come to you, let her be, and she’ll do it in her own time.’

‘Easier said than done,’ said Cat. She had never been the rebellious type, so Mel baffled her. Although Mel’s social life seemed to have dwindled recently. However, if asked whether anything was wrong, Mel’s replies were monosyllabic and perfunctory. She seemed to have fallen out with Karen, for which Cat wasn’t sorry. As far as she was concerned, Karen was a Bad Influence. The mysterious Andy seemed to have vanished into thin air – presumably the reason for Mel’s moodiness. Cat hoped it was nothing more serious than that, but if Mel didn’t talk to her, what could she do?

‘Catherine Tinsall for Dr Stewart,’ the receptionist called over the intercom.

‘Here we go,’ said Cat, her stomach in knots. ‘I feel as daft as a teenager.’

‘We can’t be the first middle-aged parents she’s seen,’ said Noel squeezing her hand. ‘Come on, let’s get it over with.’

Feeling as stupid as a teenager, Cat led the way to Dr Stewart’s room.

‘I’m almost too embarrassed to tell you why we’re here,’ said Cat, as they sat down.

‘It happens,’ said Dr Stewart cheerfully, when Cat revealed her condition, ‘particularly at your age.’

‘I was just settling in for the menopause,’ said Cat, ‘I’m too old for babies.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Dr Stewart. ‘Plenty of women go on to have healthy babies at your age.’

‘But the risks …’

‘Are higher for things like Downs, granted,’ said Dr Stewart, ‘but on the other hand you’ve had four healthy babies, there’s no reason to think you won’t produce a fifth. I can always arrange for you to have an amnio and other tests, if you like.’

Cat looked at Noel.

‘Doesn’t that increase the risk of miscarriage?’ she asked.

‘It can do,’ said Dr Stewart.

‘Then, no,’ said Cat, suddenly feeling protective towards the blob for the first time. ‘I think we’ll just take our chances and hope it will be okay.’

‘You’re sure you want to go through with this then?’ said Dr Stewart, ‘you still have time to change your mind.’

Cat swallowed hard; it was what she had thought about constantly, ever since she’d found out about the pregnancy. She’d been scared to mention it to Noel in case he agreed with her.

‘Absolutely,’ said Noel, he looked puzzled, as if the answer was obvious. ‘Why wouldn’t we want to have this baby?’