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Authors: Joanne Phillips
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why we would want to. Why would we want to ruin everything that way? What is this obsession with babies, anyway?’
I shush him with my eyes and a strained smile, pointing to the bassinet where Phoenix’s hands are starting to emerge above the blanket, reaching and grasping at fresh air.
‘Well, you see,’ Paul says, triumphant. ‘You can’t even have a proper conversation when there’s a baby around. How do you think you could do up a new house? How could I focus on my new job? Come on, Stella.’ He’s kneeling now, and reaching for my hand – a scene reminiscent of the one I just replayed in my head. ‘Tell me that this is just a silly joke. That part of our lives is over, isn’t it? And I, for one, am glad of it. I love Hannah, and I love Lipsy too. But I wouldn’t want to go backwards. Life is for moving on.’
‘But Paul,’ I say, desperately, keeping my voice low, ‘you didn’t even know Hannah as a baby. Don’t you feel you missed out? Wouldn’t you love to do it again, properly?’
This has always been a sore point between us, and I’m not surprised when Paul pulls away and hardens his face.
‘I’m a good dad to Hannah,’ he says stiffly. ‘And I would have been more if I’d had the chance. But there’s no point trying to rewrite the past, Stella. You more than anyone should know that.’
‘But, wouldn’t you …’ I trail off as, right on cue, Phoenix wakes up fully, realises his tummy is empty and begins to wail. I’m used to it – to my ears it’s just, ‘Hey, Grandma, where’s my bottle?’ But to Paul it’s like a thousand drills going off in his head while someone scrapes their nails down a chalkboard and plays a piano off key. I can tell by the look on his face – he really doesn’t like babies.
‘Come on, Phee,’ I whisper, picking the baby up and throwing Paul a sheepish smile. ‘He’s just hungry,’ I tell him. ‘He hardly ever cries apart from when he’s hungry.’
But there’s no point arguing with him now. The shutters have come down, and for Paul, the topic is closed. It’s not that he’s intractable. My lovely, kind, thoughtful Paul is simply scared.
Well, aren’t we all?
Besides, the more pressing question is this: How can I marry the man without telling him I’m pregnant? And how on earth can I tell him now?
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:38
Hi Stella,
Just wanted to say I’m sorry I rushed off earlier. I know we hadn’t finished talking properly but you had your hands full (!) and I figured it was best to leave you to it. I hope your last day at work went OK, did they all knit you a bed jacket like you thought? What even is a bed jacket, anyway?
I also wanted to say that I’m the luckiest man in the world, and I can’t wait to see you at the altar on Saturday. OK, so it’s not an altar, but you know what I mean. (We’re still on for lunch Thursday, right?)
This is our time, Stella. In a couple of weeks you’ll look back and laugh at all this baby nonsense. Phoenix looks like a right little bruiser – he’s certainly got a good pair of lungs on him! I’m sure he and Lipsy and Robert will be more than fine without you.
All my love, Paul x
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:52
Dear Paul,
They did knit me a bed jacket and I plan to wear it every night so watch out! I’m clearly very old and past it now, in your eyes anyway, so I’m also going shopping for some incontinence pads and booking in at the dentist’s to get a set of false teeth.
This isn’t easy to say, but I know you’ll be great about it because you care about me and only want what’s best for us. I’m having second thoughts about leaving Lipsy and the baby so soon. I know we’ve been through it a hundred times, but you never really listened when I told you how anxious I was. I don’t think it will make much
I shush him with my eyes and a strained smile, pointing to the bassinet where Phoenix’s hands are starting to emerge above the blanket, reaching and grasping at fresh air.
‘Well, you see,’ Paul says, triumphant. ‘You can’t even have a proper conversation when there’s a baby around. How do you think you could do up a new house? How could I focus on my new job? Come on, Stella.’ He’s kneeling now, and reaching for my hand – a scene reminiscent of the one I just replayed in my head. ‘Tell me that this is just a silly joke. That part of our lives is over, isn’t it? And I, for one, am glad of it. I love Hannah, and I love Lipsy too. But I wouldn’t want to go backwards. Life is for moving on.’
‘But Paul,’ I say, desperately, keeping my voice low, ‘you didn’t even know Hannah as a baby. Don’t you feel you missed out? Wouldn’t you love to do it again, properly?’
This has always been a sore point between us, and I’m not surprised when Paul pulls away and hardens his face.
‘I’m a good dad to Hannah,’ he says stiffly. ‘And I would have been more if I’d had the chance. But there’s no point trying to rewrite the past, Stella. You more than anyone should know that.’
‘But, wouldn’t you …’ I trail off as, right on cue, Phoenix wakes up fully, realises his tummy is empty and begins to wail. I’m used to it – to my ears it’s just, ‘Hey, Grandma, where’s my bottle?’ But to Paul it’s like a thousand drills going off in his head while someone scrapes their nails down a chalkboard and plays a piano off key. I can tell by the look on his face – he really doesn’t like babies.
‘Come on, Phee,’ I whisper, picking the baby up and throwing Paul a sheepish smile. ‘He’s just hungry,’ I tell him. ‘He hardly ever cries apart from when he’s hungry.’
But there’s no point arguing with him now. The shutters have come down, and for Paul, the topic is closed. It’s not that he’s intractable. My lovely, kind, thoughtful Paul is simply scared.
Well, aren’t we all?
Besides, the more pressing question is this: How can I marry the man without telling him I’m pregnant? And how on earth can I tell him now?
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:38
Hi Stella,
Just wanted to say I’m sorry I rushed off earlier. I know we hadn’t finished talking properly but you had your hands full (!) and I figured it was best to leave you to it. I hope your last day at work went OK, did they all knit you a bed jacket like you thought? What even is a bed jacket, anyway?
I also wanted to say that I’m the luckiest man in the world, and I can’t wait to see you at the altar on Saturday. OK, so it’s not an altar, but you know what I mean. (We’re still on for lunch Thursday, right?)
This is our time, Stella. In a couple of weeks you’ll look back and laugh at all this baby nonsense. Phoenix looks like a right little bruiser – he’s certainly got a good pair of lungs on him! I’m sure he and Lipsy and Robert will be more than fine without you.
All my love, Paul x
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:52
Dear Paul,
They did knit me a bed jacket and I plan to wear it every night so watch out! I’m clearly very old and past it now, in your eyes anyway, so I’m also going shopping for some incontinence pads and booking in at the dentist’s to get a set of false teeth.
This isn’t easy to say, but I know you’ll be great about it because you care about me and only want what’s best for us. I’m having second thoughts about leaving Lipsy and the baby so soon. I know we’ve been through it a hundred times, but you never really listened when I told you how anxious I was. I don’t think it will make much
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