Page 23 of The Three of Us
I laugh. ‘Rosie! And you a married mother of two. You’re not meant to notice good-looking blokes anymore.’ I take a big sip from my glass so I don’t have to say anything else.
‘Ah, but I wasn’t married back then, when I was noticing him, was I? He could be all wrinkled and gone to seed by now, for all I know.’
‘I’ve seen him, and he isn’t.’
‘He would have made a good match for you, you know, Carly. Up-and-coming professional type, smart suits, nice bum… Still, all water under the bridge now he’s been snapped up by someone else. God knows it’s time we found you somebody though, before the old ovaries dry up.’
I splutter my wine and put the glass down on the coffee table before I risk spilling it all over the furniture. ‘Ovaries? And old ovaries, at that! You sound just like my mother. There’s more to life than having babies, you know.’
‘Is there? I’ve forgotten.’
There’s a crackling on the baby monitor, propped up on the mantlepiece to my left, closely followed by a loud wailing. Talk about timing!
‘Oh, no peace for the wicked,’ Rosie says, standing up and heading for the stairs. ‘At least it’s only Jamie. Let’s hope I get to him before he wakes Becca up as well.’
‘You can tell which is which? Just from one cry?’
She gives me a strange look, as if I’ve just asked the most ridiculous question. ‘Of course I can. I’m their mum.’
By the time Syd comes home, I have been collared into holding Jamie while Rosie goes back up for Becca who has woken up crying within minutes of her brother. I have managed to dodge changing a nappy, although I had no choice but to watch at close range while Rosie did it, and it was not a simple wet one, believe me. How can one tiny baby make such a mess? And now I am cradling a baby in one arm and a feeding bottle in the other hand and wondering how I’m supposed to move my legs into a more comfortable position without disturbing the flow of milk and before cramp sets in.
Syd leans against the open door and watches me, smiling. ‘We’ll make a mother out of you yet, Carly,’ he says. He sees my expression and backtracks. ‘Well, a babysitter at least.’
I have to admit that this particular baby is quite cute, when he’s being quiet anyway. ‘Is that a hint? Because I could, I suppose. Babysit sometimes, I mean. If you were really stuck, obviously, because I know I’m not first choice material. But as your family are so far away, and you can’t keep asking Rosie’s mum…’ I have no idea why I just said that. Me, alone with two babies, for a whole evening? I just don’t have the experience, or the confidence, to know what on earth I’m doing. I should think before I speak sometimes, and there’s no way I should have made such a stupid offer. I hope they can see it’s stupid too and don’t take me up on it.
‘We can give lessons, if necessary,’ Rosie says, instantly attuned to what I’m thinking. I think my face might just have given it away. ‘Nappy changing, bottle warming, burping…’
‘I think maybe I should just start with the driving lessons, if that’s okay with you?’
‘Not a lot of difference really,’ Syd says. ‘Once you get the hang of the basics, it will all just fall into place. Mirror, signal, manoeuvre is pretty much like sniff, grab a nappy and wipe, when you come to think about it. Just a procedure to follow. Talking of which…’ He goes to a table in the corner and picks up his diary. ‘When did you want to start? The driving? I’ve got a slot spare tomorrow if you’re up for it? Seven o’clock, at yours? And I’ve got a copy of the Highway Code here somewhere. Never too soon to start working on the theory.’
We talk about the fees, which are horrifyingly higher than I’d realised, despite Syd giving me a mates-rates discount, and he checks that I’ve got my provisional licence, which I’ve actually had for ages although I never quite took the next scary step. A chicken, that’s what I am. Then he writes my name in the diary before he swigs down a big mug of coffee, grabs his car keys and leaves again. So, there’s no going back now. I am officially a learner.
Jamie opens his eyes and looks startled as he lets out an enormous burp, even though I haven’t put him up on my shoulder or done any of that back-patting stuff I thought you had to do. He’s only little and I guess he’s still learning about how things are meant to be done too.
I can do this! Babysitting, driving, maybe even swimming if I was to put my mind to it. And, as for getting over Jack Doherty… well, I can do that too. In fact, I’m doing it already. I just need my head to tell it to my heart, and job done!
When I next run into Jack, I have my coat on and two bulging carrier bags of lunchtime food shopping in my hands. It’s half past five and I’m about to head for home. As he comes out of the lift at ground level, I’m struggling with the main door and he rushes forward to hold it open for me. I get a delicious whiff of his aftershave as he squeezes through next to me and we stand together, a bit awkwardly, on the pavement outside.
‘Off home?’ he says.
‘Yep.’ I nod towards my bags. ‘Got a fridge to fill. You?’
‘Thought I might go for a drink first, actually. I don’t suppose you fancy keeping me company?’
My insides do a little jig, but I try to ignore it. Fancy it? Fancy him? Of course I do, but even as my head starts to nod all by itself, I remember that he’s married and I know I’m making a stupid mistake, so I immediately start to backtrack, looking for an excuse to turn him down. ‘I’d love to, Jack, but…’
‘But you have other plans? A date? But maybe just a quick one, eh? Only half an hour. For old times’ sake?’
A quick one? I know he only means a drink, but I wish he wouldn’t say things like that, putting naughty ideas into my head. I feel myself hesitate. There is nothing I would rather do than spend time with Jack, but…
‘You’d be doing me a favour, rescuing me from an evening in front of Coronation Street.’ He has that look in his eyes that I just know I’m not going to be able to resist. Sort of pleading but cheeky at the same time. Oh, God, Jack, stop it. Don’t you know how much I want you?
‘I don’t believe for a minute that you’re a soap fan! But won’t you be expected home straight after work? Your wife…?’
‘She’s away at the moment. At her parents’ place. So, I’m not in any hurry to get back to an empty flat, despite my undying love for Deirdre Barlow and her sexy glasses.’
‘I think you’ll find she’s not in it anymore.’