‘He’s very sweet,’ said Tom, smiling. ‘Can I?’
‘Yes, course. Here –’ She passed the baby over, and Tom sat cradling him, struck as always by the extraordinary yet ordinary miracle that saw a moment of lovemaking become a tiny being just nine months later, a being that would grow, that would first smile at him, and then laugh, and then learn to do amazing things, like walking and talking, and have tantrums, and demand stories and join his brother and sister as the centre of his parents’ world.
‘He’s very sweet,’ he said again, finding (as always) his voice oddly choked, his eyes filled with tears.
‘Isn’t he? It’s amazing. And it’s true what they say, they do bring their own love with them; I was changing Lucy’s nappy yesterday and she was giggling, you know how she does, and I thought to myself how I could never love anyone as much as I loved her and Kit, and then this little one arrived and I looked at him, as they put him in my arms, and I just felt this great wash of love. Tom, can we call him Charlie?’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘Only the same as usual – I really like it, and it seems to suit him.’
‘Charlie it is,’ said Tom, thinking the last thing he could do after his appalling behaviour was deny Alice her choice of name. ‘He’s a fine chap and you’re a clever girl, and I don’t deserve you.’
‘Probably not,’ said Alice, reaching up to kiss him.
‘Now, I need to talk to you about something very important.’
‘So soon?’ she said. ‘Can’t I have just one day of thinking about nothing but my baby and you do the same, like everyone else in the ward?’
‘Sorry, but no, you can’t,’ said Tom, and outlined his dilemma. Did he stay as the constituency’s candidate for Purbridge, and probably not get in, or did he go to a new one and almost certainly get in? It would affect her greatly, and he wanted her to be absolutely behind him.
‘Well,’ said Alice with only the briefest hesitation, ‘it seems very straightforward to me. Of course you should stay with Purbridge. You’ve worked so hard and made so much progress there, so many friends and acquaintances, it just seems such a slap in the face for them if you say, “Sorry, chaps, I’m off somewhere else now, so I can be sure of getting in.” Anyway, miracles do happen – you might get in there. And besides, we’re going to move there, aren’t we? To lovely Sandbanks, without which we wouldn’t have Lucy. Oh, dear. Now I’m crying. Sorry, hormones I suppose.’
Tom pulled a distinctly grubby handkerchief out of his pocket and tenderly wiped her face.
‘I feel exactly the same. I’m so glad you agree. But Donald says I’d be a fool to turn this new constituency down.’
‘If you ask me,’ said Alice briskly, ‘Donald can be a bit of a fool himself at times. Why are you smiling at me?’
‘Because I’ve got the old Alice back. The Alice I love.’
‘Where is this other place? Heart of industrial Birmingham, did you say?’ At which point Charlie suddenly started to cry very loudly.
‘There you are,’ said Alice. ‘Charlie doesn’t like the sound of it either. Best stay with Purbridge, Tom. Or we’ll all be sorry . . .’
Donald was furious; even more so than Tom expected.
‘You won’t get any gratitude from the people of Purbridge, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re an idiot, Tom, and I hope you realise it.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Tom. ‘Politics are about principles, it seems to me. I’ve always felt that and I always will.’
‘Oh, really? Pity you didn’t stick to them when it came to personal matters. Hanging round Diana Southcott as if she was a bitch on heat. I saw her the other night, by the way. She said she had no interest in your career when I said it would be ruined if she caused a scandal. More or less said she was going to carry out her threat.’
Tom’s stomach felt as if it had dropped several yards through the floor. ‘God, Donald, the last way to get Diana on our side is to go crawling to her. She totally despises that sort of thing.’
‘I didn’t go crawling to her. Just presented a straight picture. Tom, I’ve been around a lot longer than you have. I know a woman on the make when I see one. She’ll be wanting something soon, to keep her quiet, you mark my words. And it won’t be your over-active dick.’
Tom sat looking at him very steadily for about thirty seconds. Then he stood, picked up his coat and hat, and walked out of the pub without saying another word.
But he felt badly shaken and had to walk for at least half an hour to calm himself down, before going home.
Home was not quite what he had hoped it would be once Alice was back to her old self. Charlie Knelston, once woken from his new-baby trance, proved an awkward, irritable, restless child, with a digestion that troubled not only him but everyone else in the household. Wails of pain filled the house from as early as three a.m. to as late as midnight; the only things that pacified him were his mother’s breasts, and Alice sometimes felt she had no life, no calling other than proffering the poor weary things, once so pretty and purveyors of such pleasure, into Charlie’s greedy, frantic little mouth.
The only other thing that rendered him silent, especially at night, was being pushed round the streets in his pram. Alice was so tired she had no idea what day it was, what meal she was cooking, or even what time. She feared she had become a bad mother to the other children, having very little time for them, and snapping at them endlessly because she was so tired. Once or twice she slapped Kit, who was being extremely naughty, taking advantage of the general chaos; once Tom was witness to this; he was shocked and said so.
‘I cannot believe you did that. You know we agreed we would never hit our children. It’s a brutal thing to do, taking advantage of our superior size and power over them. You mustn’t ever do it again.’
‘I know that was wrong of me,’ she said, ‘and I’m sorry. But I’m so tired! Kit is being extremely naughty and just you try being endlessly patient all day, every day. You might even do a bit of slapping yourself. I wish you were at home more, Tom, it would be such a help.’
Remorse struck Tom. ‘Alice, I’m truly sorry, I can’t. You know I’m fighting an election. Every minute counts. I’ll make it up to you when it’s over, I swear to you.’