The Christmas Surprise
Page 29
‘M-E-A-L. It’s a grain they use—’
‘We’ll see how he goes,’ said Rosie, finally running out of patience. Also Marie had one finger up her nose and the other hand reaching out for the bubble gum. ‘One step at a time.’
‘Becoming a parent is the most amazing step you’ll ever take,’ said Hester. Rosie, who had only just accepted the concept that she would never have children of her own, absolutely bristled at this.
‘Don’t be daft, there’s loads of amazing things people can do.’
Fortunately at that point the bell rang again; it was cheery Maeve Skritcherd, the receptionist at the medical practice.
‘AHHH!’ she shrieked, rushing forward. ‘Where is he? Where is he? Let me see him!!! Let me get my hands on him!!!!’
Rosie remembered that Maeve had been waiting for years now for her lunkish adult sons to move out, find good jobs and nice girls and settle down and give her grandchildren. She was far too nice; the boys didn’t want to go anywhere. Rosie made a mental note not to make the same mistake.
Maeve was now basically wrestling her for control of Apostil, and Rosie laughed and happily gave him up; it was time for him to wake from his morning nap, and he did so, blinking sleepily around.
‘He’s GORGEOUS!’ shrieked Maeve. ‘He’s beautiful! Come here, you lovely yummy yummy gorgeous boy!!!’
She covered his head in kisses and Rosie relaxed. This was more the reaction she’d been hoping for. Hester sniffed loudly.
‘Sugar-free mints, please.’
Edison looked disappointed.
‘Hello, Edison,’ said Maeve. ‘Are we seeing you later?’
‘No, he’s fine,’ said Hester swiftly. Despite Edison benefiting massively from wonderful medical care during his recovery, from both the hospital and the local team, Hester made a big fuss about how she was mostly treating him homeopathically.
‘Well that’s good.’
Edison pushed up his glasses.
‘Will you be needing some babysitting?’ he asked Rosie seriously. She couldn’t stop herself laughing.
‘Edison, you’re NINE.’
He looked sad.
‘Yes, but I’m very sponsible.’
‘I have no doubt,’ said Rosie. ‘But Apostil is very little and needs his mummy. Maybe when you’re both a bit older, okay?’
‘Only I need money to buy Edinburgh rock.’
He looked imploringly at everyone. Maeve rolled her eyes and gave in.
‘And a small bag of Edinburgh rock, please.’
‘You don’t have to,’ said Hester, but made no move to stop her.
‘Not at all,’ said Maeve. ‘This is a happy day.’
And after that, the deluge. Everyone from Malik down at the general store, who brought her a pack of nappies – a surprisingly kind and useful gift – to Mrs Manly from the boutique, who reminded her that Baby, as she called Apostil, would need to come in for his full layette, whatever that was, everyone had a few words to say. Even Roy Blaine, the nasty dentist, could be seen peering in through the window. And Rosie was so happy and her heart so full of everyone admiring her lovely baby – and so sleep-deprived, to be honest – that she waved at him, but he stalked on.
Moray came after morning surgery. Tina had arrived for her shift, declaring Apostil a treasure, then launching into a very long story about wedding favours that Rosie could only barely follow. She took Moray next door for a cup of tea.
‘He’s lovely,’ said Moray cheerily. ‘Hello there, little chap. Look at you!’
Rosie beamed.
‘That’s a lot of wool,’ Moray remarked.
‘Lilian’s army has been going totally bonkers.’
‘Oh yes, have you seen her yet?’
‘We’re going this afternoon, we only got in last night.’
‘She’ll be beside herself.’
‘I know.’ Rosie imitated Lilian’s acid tones. ‘Did anyone in YOUR family go all the way to Africa for a baby, Agnes? Or did they just squeeze them out like the common people?’
Moray laughed, and lifted Apostil with an easy familiarity.
‘I should wait for Stephen to ask you this …’ began Rosie.
Moray flashed her a look.
‘Don’t tell me … you need a dashing gay godparent. Everyone else has got one.’
Rosie winced.
‘I know. But you’re our favourite.’
She paused.
‘How many godchildren have you got?’
‘Seven. I’m warning you, I’m shit at it. I won’t remember his birthday or go to his school play, because I really don’t give a fuck.’
‘That’s okay,’ said Rosie. ‘I don’t care. I was only trying to save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’re NOT Apostil’s dashing gay godparent and have everyone think you’ve done something horribly wrong.’
‘Oh God, I didn’t think of it like that.’
‘Yes, quite. Everyone will ask, “Are you having Moray for DGG?” and I’ll pause and look sadly into the middle distance so they won’t ask me any more about it.’
‘You wouldn’t do that.’
Rosie looked into the middle distance and made her face sad.
‘Okay, okay,’ said Moray. He narrowed his eyes. ‘But I LIKE the devil and all his evil works.’
‘His birthday is the twenty-eighth of October,’ said Rosie. ‘We’ll probably have the blessing at the Christmas Day service. Please bring Moshe this time.’
‘HA,’ said Moray. ‘You’re not serious. Mind you, our wonderfully inclusive vicar would get a massive—’
‘DON’T be disgusting in front of my baby.’ She covered Apostil’s ears. The happy-clappy vicar, never known to turn down an invitation that might include free food, managed to please neither the traditional churchgoers nor the new generation of Liptonites. Lilian in fact had become a Catholic after Henry’s death, finding much comfort in its more rigorous certainties and approving mightily of the new Pope, who, she had noted loudly on more than one occasion, probably wouldn’t eat quite as many custard creams after Sunday service.
Moray turned his attention to Apostil’s bad arm. The baby lay looking up at him from his layers of wool, blinking steadily.
‘We’ll see how he goes,’ said Rosie, finally running out of patience. Also Marie had one finger up her nose and the other hand reaching out for the bubble gum. ‘One step at a time.’
‘Becoming a parent is the most amazing step you’ll ever take,’ said Hester. Rosie, who had only just accepted the concept that she would never have children of her own, absolutely bristled at this.
‘Don’t be daft, there’s loads of amazing things people can do.’
Fortunately at that point the bell rang again; it was cheery Maeve Skritcherd, the receptionist at the medical practice.
‘AHHH!’ she shrieked, rushing forward. ‘Where is he? Where is he? Let me see him!!! Let me get my hands on him!!!!’
Rosie remembered that Maeve had been waiting for years now for her lunkish adult sons to move out, find good jobs and nice girls and settle down and give her grandchildren. She was far too nice; the boys didn’t want to go anywhere. Rosie made a mental note not to make the same mistake.
Maeve was now basically wrestling her for control of Apostil, and Rosie laughed and happily gave him up; it was time for him to wake from his morning nap, and he did so, blinking sleepily around.
‘He’s GORGEOUS!’ shrieked Maeve. ‘He’s beautiful! Come here, you lovely yummy yummy gorgeous boy!!!’
She covered his head in kisses and Rosie relaxed. This was more the reaction she’d been hoping for. Hester sniffed loudly.
‘Sugar-free mints, please.’
Edison looked disappointed.
‘Hello, Edison,’ said Maeve. ‘Are we seeing you later?’
‘No, he’s fine,’ said Hester swiftly. Despite Edison benefiting massively from wonderful medical care during his recovery, from both the hospital and the local team, Hester made a big fuss about how she was mostly treating him homeopathically.
‘Well that’s good.’
Edison pushed up his glasses.
‘Will you be needing some babysitting?’ he asked Rosie seriously. She couldn’t stop herself laughing.
‘Edison, you’re NINE.’
He looked sad.
‘Yes, but I’m very sponsible.’
‘I have no doubt,’ said Rosie. ‘But Apostil is very little and needs his mummy. Maybe when you’re both a bit older, okay?’
‘Only I need money to buy Edinburgh rock.’
He looked imploringly at everyone. Maeve rolled her eyes and gave in.
‘And a small bag of Edinburgh rock, please.’
‘You don’t have to,’ said Hester, but made no move to stop her.
‘Not at all,’ said Maeve. ‘This is a happy day.’
And after that, the deluge. Everyone from Malik down at the general store, who brought her a pack of nappies – a surprisingly kind and useful gift – to Mrs Manly from the boutique, who reminded her that Baby, as she called Apostil, would need to come in for his full layette, whatever that was, everyone had a few words to say. Even Roy Blaine, the nasty dentist, could be seen peering in through the window. And Rosie was so happy and her heart so full of everyone admiring her lovely baby – and so sleep-deprived, to be honest – that she waved at him, but he stalked on.
Moray came after morning surgery. Tina had arrived for her shift, declaring Apostil a treasure, then launching into a very long story about wedding favours that Rosie could only barely follow. She took Moray next door for a cup of tea.
‘He’s lovely,’ said Moray cheerily. ‘Hello there, little chap. Look at you!’
Rosie beamed.
‘That’s a lot of wool,’ Moray remarked.
‘Lilian’s army has been going totally bonkers.’
‘Oh yes, have you seen her yet?’
‘We’re going this afternoon, we only got in last night.’
‘She’ll be beside herself.’
‘I know.’ Rosie imitated Lilian’s acid tones. ‘Did anyone in YOUR family go all the way to Africa for a baby, Agnes? Or did they just squeeze them out like the common people?’
Moray laughed, and lifted Apostil with an easy familiarity.
‘I should wait for Stephen to ask you this …’ began Rosie.
Moray flashed her a look.
‘Don’t tell me … you need a dashing gay godparent. Everyone else has got one.’
Rosie winced.
‘I know. But you’re our favourite.’
She paused.
‘How many godchildren have you got?’
‘Seven. I’m warning you, I’m shit at it. I won’t remember his birthday or go to his school play, because I really don’t give a fuck.’
‘That’s okay,’ said Rosie. ‘I don’t care. I was only trying to save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’re NOT Apostil’s dashing gay godparent and have everyone think you’ve done something horribly wrong.’
‘Oh God, I didn’t think of it like that.’
‘Yes, quite. Everyone will ask, “Are you having Moray for DGG?” and I’ll pause and look sadly into the middle distance so they won’t ask me any more about it.’
‘You wouldn’t do that.’
Rosie looked into the middle distance and made her face sad.
‘Okay, okay,’ said Moray. He narrowed his eyes. ‘But I LIKE the devil and all his evil works.’
‘His birthday is the twenty-eighth of October,’ said Rosie. ‘We’ll probably have the blessing at the Christmas Day service. Please bring Moshe this time.’
‘HA,’ said Moray. ‘You’re not serious. Mind you, our wonderfully inclusive vicar would get a massive—’
‘DON’T be disgusting in front of my baby.’ She covered Apostil’s ears. The happy-clappy vicar, never known to turn down an invitation that might include free food, managed to please neither the traditional churchgoers nor the new generation of Liptonites. Lilian in fact had become a Catholic after Henry’s death, finding much comfort in its more rigorous certainties and approving mightily of the new Pope, who, she had noted loudly on more than one occasion, probably wouldn’t eat quite as many custard creams after Sunday service.
Moray turned his attention to Apostil’s bad arm. The baby lay looking up at him from his layers of wool, blinking steadily.
