Josephine lay in the hospital bed, tired and sore, but also elated. She watched her little daughter as she slept in the Perspex crib beside her bed, fascinated by each breath and each snuffle. She was still worried that this was all a dream, and she would wake up in her own bed, covered in sweat and silently crying into her pillow.
She looked down at her body; already her belly had gone down – she didn’t look like she had just given birth. She had laughed about it with the midwife, and another new mum who had popped her head around the door asking if it was OK to come in and say hello. She had really loved that. Talking babies with another mum was something she had never thought she would ever do. It was so natural, and they had chatted together for ages. Then she had fed her little Jessica – already she was Jessie, Michael had seen to that. Her mother had never allowed her name to be shortened – she was Josephine, never Jo. Yet she had already accepted Jessie for her daughter; it suited her somehow, she looked like a Jessie.
Even Hannah had not been able to ruin this day for her. Unlike her mother and father who had held the baby, cooed to her, and shared in her first few hours in the world, Hannah had refused the offer to hold her grandchild, and she had left without even saying goodbye. Michael had not even noticed his mother’s absence; he was as besotted with Jessie as she was. He just gazed at his new daughter with complete and absolute awe. She was a lovely child already; she had been born pink and creamy, not even any blood or vernix on her. She could see herself in her daughter’s features. Her mum had said Josephine had been her double, the image of her as a baby, and she was going to bring in the pictures to prove it. Michael was so dark, Josephine had thought the child would resemble him, dark-haired and apple-cheeked. But she wasn’t – she was fair-skinned, and honey-blond, just like her mum.
Josephine knew she should try to sleep – she was whacked out – but it was impossible. She wanted this day to last for ever. It was the best day of her whole life. She felt truly alive for the first time in years. Michael had been so good, pretending he didn’t care if they had children or not, but she believed, deep inside, that he did care. She hugged herself with glee. She was finally a mother, she was someone’s mum, and that felt so good. She looked at her little daughter, lying there so defenceless, so vulnerable, and she whispered softly, ‘I promise you, my little Jessie Flynn, that I will never let you down. If you need me I will always be there for you.’ She meant every word. It never occurred to her that sometimes you couldn’t protect your children, no matter how much you might want to. Life just didn’t work like that.
Chapter Sixty-One
Michael took a deep breath, and counted to five slowly in his head. Josephine was feeding little Jessie, and he had walked into his kitchen, barefoot, in only his boxer shorts, gasping for a cup of coffee, and stubbed his toe on a new pile of boxes that seemed to have appeared overnight. He had hopped around in agony, while cursing under his breath.
Instead of laughing as expected, Josephine had deliberately ignored his pain. He had hoped that now she had a baby to care for the bulk buying would stop. He had always thought her need to buy so much was because of her failure to have a child of her own. He had ignored it, telling himself that if it made her happy then that was enough. But now it was starting to annoy him. In the last six months, she had got worse not better. He glanced quickly at the boxes as he sipped his coffee. More fucking food – like they didn’t have enough already! Twenty-four tins to the case, and there were five cases. Two were full of baked beans, one was spaghetti, and the other two were chilli con carne of all things. She cooked wonderful food for them – they rarely opened a tin of anything. It was getting beyond a joke.
He sat down, and smiled at his wife and daughter. Little Jessie pushed her bottle away, and gave him a huge gummy smile. She was absolutely gorgeous, there was no doubting that. Her eyes were a deep blue and framed by long, dark eyelashes. Everyone commented on her eyes – even complete strangers, they were that remarkable. She seemed to look into your soul, she peered so intently. Even his mother had eventually succumbed to her charms.
‘Morning, my darling.’
She started to crow at him, grinning and grabbing her own feet, and he laughed as Josephine tried to get her to finish her bottle. He kissed his wife on the forehead gently. ‘Morning, my other darling.’
Josephine smiled at him, but she could sense his frustration, and she hated it. She knew that, on one level, he had a point about her buying, but it wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford it. Possessing the things that she purchased made her feel secure somehow. It had started so long ago, it was normal for her now. And if things were on special offer, she just saw it as a way of saving money.
‘She is looking happy enough.’