Page 52 of How We Loved

May

6th May

Ben is in Putney at the shop with Baz. I don’t know what he’s doing there so much.

Hope is teething again, and honestly, it seems endless.

Endless.

However, I have coaxed her into crawling.

Oh, who am I kidding, it wasn’t me. It was the damn cat. As Crazy Kit lives downstairs with Tristan and Mer and they were out for the night we brought Kit upstairs. I have no guilt about letting Tristan keep Kit. They are a bro love all of their own, and I have enough issues focusing on the baby.

The cat would never survive. Anyway, up he came, and well Hope thought he was the best thing ever. We’d got ourselves to a stage where she was on her hands and knees and rocking back and forth like she wanted to crawl but whenever I showcased the skill for her she just laughed and dribbled.

Turns out, she just needed a cat to chase.

We now have a baby that moves. That’s a challenge in itself. You know when they say, and by they, what I mean is parenting books—all of them: don’t leave your child unattended on the bed. I now know why.

They fall off.

She’s okay, she’s pretty robust.

So in other news apart from my child accidentally bouncing off beds, I’m actually doing this. Zoe and I met for the third time and signed the contract.

Holy fuck.

Now I’ve just got to tell everyone what I’m doing. I can’t believe I’m allowing the mess of Ben and me out there into the world. I think that, but then there’s this little voice in the back of my head that whispers, ‘Maybe it’s meant to be. Maybe it’s all been for a reason.’

We are taking Hope to see Mum and Dad at the weekend. I want to tell them about the deal.

Whatever happens, I’m going to have to rewrite some of Mum’s bits in diary one; she’d be devastated if that was out there the way it’s currently written.

Actually, diary two needs a rewrite too. She might annoy the hell out of me, but she’s my mother and I don’t want everyone knowing how much she annoys the hell out of me.

10th May

The day with Mum and Dad went better than expected, for a number of reasons.

“Give me my baby here,” Mum had grabby hands for Hope as we walked in the door, and I was all for it. I think she’s teething, with bright red cheeks, seriously raw nappy rash, and random crying every seven minutes all night long. We’ve had a lot of snuggles all night. I must have dozed off with her on my chest at one point, both of us having a little upright power nap because when I woke up, cranking one eye open to see if she was asleep or just pretending to lure me into a false sense of security, I found Ben watching us.

“Why are you watching me?” I asked, instantly wiping my mouth for drool.

“Because you are gorgeous, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you. Look at you, such a natural, the best mum in the world.”

Of course, my first thought was that he might have been drinking, because I’m not sure holey yoga pants for PJs and haystack hair is the gorgeous woman Ben is worthy of. I snuggled back, giving Hope a gentle squeeze.

“Write me an album about it, and then I’ll believe you.”

He smirked and then left me to doze some more.

Back to Mum and Dad’s. Mum took Hope, drowning her in the scent of Chanel No5, and Dad handed me a glass of wine—pretty fair exchange if you ask me.

“I’ve made a leg of lamb,” Mum was cooing at Hope. “Yum, yum, yummy.”

Dad and I exchanged glances. Rarely was there anything yummy about Mum’s lamb.

“So we’ve got some news,” I said as we went into the lounge, and Dad started putting all the valuables and breakables out of reach of Hope’s grabby hands. Mum placed her on the floor, her gaze directly on me. “At last, a wedding. I knew you’d come to your senses eventually.” I shifted uncomfortably. Damn it, she was going to be disappointed now.