Never Mind The Botox: Rachel Page 11

  When Rachel arrived at the station she jumped in a cab. Her dad was playing golf and her mum didn’t like driving in the Friday evening traffic.

  Her mum was in quite a state when she arrived. ‘Oh darling, I’m so glad you’re here to help me!’ she announced the minute Rachel walked in the door. ‘I’m so worried about getting everything right; you know how fussy Laura is.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum, we’ll be fine.’ Rachel gave her mum a hug. ‘I’m sure we’ll get plenty of instructions and it’s only for a couple of days.’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have Naomi and I hope this will be the first of many little holiday trips here for her. I just want things to go well,’ said Rachel’s mum.

  ‘We’ll be a great team,’ said Rachel. ‘Now what do we need to do first?’

  ‘We need to assemble a cot. Laura was worried that Naomi doesn’t settle well in a travel cot, so your dad popped out and got a proper one. He didn’t have time to put it together before he went to golf. Well actually, he probably did, but he was rather grumpy about having to buy a cot at all. I did tell him that it would get plenty of use, but he wasn’t convinced.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Rachel.

  She hadn’t quite expected to be assembling flat-packed furniture. It took them several tries, with quite a bit of swearing and laughing in equal measures, but eventually they got it up.

  Rachel’s mum stood back and admired their handiwork. ‘How cute!’ she said. ‘You never know, maybe one day your own children will sleep in this cot. And just for the record, I would like loads of grandchildren.’ She giggled and clapped her hands at the thought.

  ‘Oh shut up, Mum,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Oh I’m sorry, darling, I’m just teasing. It’s just so lovely to have you home.’

  Rachel looked at the cot and tried to imagine Harry as a father. What a thought! He could barely look after his own house keys, never mind a baby. Rachel had thought a few times that they might get married eventually, but even that seemed a long way away right now. Might she have children in that cot one day? She guessed so, but she had no idea when or who the father would be. Maybe she should have more of a plan by now.

  The loud ring of the doorbell broke Rachel’s thoughts.

  ‘That will be them,’ said her mum, rushing down the stairs to the front door.

  Laura came in holding Naomi, who was wrapped in a pristine, white blanket and wearing a pink stripy babygrow. Rowan followed, laden with bags and baby clutter. He dropped what he was carrying in the hall.

  ‘Don’t shut the door,’ he said to his mum. ‘There’s more stuff still to come in from the car.’

  How much stuff could they have? Rachel watched in amazement as the pile in the hall grew. There was a cool box, a suitcase, some sort of carry bag, a bouncy chair, a huge bag of toys, a steamer type thing that Rachel thought might be for bottles and a complicated looking strappy thing that looked like it could be quite a good bondage accessory but was probably a baby carrier. And even then Rowan hadn’t quite finished.

  Rachel went down and hugged Laura. ‘Hi, Laura, you look well.’

  She meant it. Laura really looked like she’d made an effort. Her neat bob looked newly cut and she was wearing a pretty floral top over jeans and red wedge sandals. The touch of shimmer on the inner corner of her eyes said party make-up rather than tired mummy make-up. Great start, thought Rachel hopefully.

  ‘Rachel, thanks so much for offering to help. We’re really grateful. I couldn’t believe it when Rowan suggested this weekend away idea. I think he’s a bit more of a romantic than I give him credit for,’ said Laura.

  She smiled happily at Rowan, who shrugged and looked understandably slightly embarrassed at the praise. ‘Well, you know, it was about time,’ he said, looking lost for anything more specific to say.

  Rachel’s mum took Naomi from Laura. ‘Now, why don’t I go and sit down with Naomi while you go through everything with Rachel. She’s going to be in charge of remembering everything important.’

  I am? thought Rachel. Since when?

  ‘Oh, that’s great. Well done, clever Rachel,’ said Laura in a way that just about managed not to be patronising.

  She opened her bag and took out several pages of neatly written notes. It took a full twenty minutes for Laura to brief Rachel. By the end, Rachel’s head was spinning. She had a full timetable of sleep, feed and play times, instructions for dealing with wind, nappy changes and food preparation, and contact telephone numbers set out in order of priority, like a disaster recovery plan. God, it looked exhausting!

  ‘You have got all that, haven’t you?’ Laura asked, looking slightly concerned by Rachel’s shell-shocked expression.

  ‘Oh yes, totally, no problem at all. No more complicated than one of my deal timetables,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Okay, good. Let me just talk you through the food in the cool box, which needs to all go in the freezer. Now, as I was showing you on the timetable, Naomi’s now eating solid food − all homemade, of course. Everything you need is in here.’ She opened the cool box. ‘Each pot is labelled and I’ve added colour coding to the labels so you can see which meal each pot is for − green for breakfast, yellow for lunch and red for tea,’ said Laura.

  Rachel peered into the blue and white cool box at the perfect rows of neatly labelled tiny pots of food. It looked impressive.

  ‘There are defrosting instructions here,’ Laura continued, pulling out yet another sheet of paper from the cool box. ‘Ideally get what you need out of the freezer a few hours before she’s having it. You can use a microwave if you forget, but just be really careful and stir everything well afterwards, as microwaving can leave hot spots.’

  ‘Okay, right, got it,’ said Rachel. So many potential hazards − what a nightmare!

  Eventually Laura and Rowan were ready to go. Laura was close to tears as they said goodbye. ‘Please take care of her,’ she said, kissing Naomi for about the tenth time. ‘Bye, sweetheart. Have fun with Grandma and Aunty Rachel. We’ll be back soon.’

  Aunty Rachel. She didn’t like the sound of that at all. But she was quite moved by how upset Laura was. Rachel could see how hard she was finding it to leave and couldn’t help thinking that she’d never felt that strongly about leaving someone. This whole baby thing; she had so much to learn.

  ‘Of course we will, silly,’ said Rachel, hugging Laura. ‘I’ll text you regular updates, let you know how she is.’

  ‘Oh would you? Thank you. That would be fantastic,’ said Laura.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ said Rowan, taking Laura’s arm and gently pulling her towards the door.

  ‘Have a great time and see you on Sunday,’ said Rachel’s mum.

  Rachel waved through the front window as they got into the car and could see that before they’d even pulled out of the drive Laura was in floods of tears.

  ‘I hope they manage to enjoy themselves,’ she said to her mum.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure they will.’

  ‘Look, can we sit down and work out a plan for the weekend? I’ve got quite a lot of work to do and I just need to know when I’m on call, so to speak.’

  ‘Not very much at all. I’m going to be looking after Naomi most of the time. I just wanted you to go through everything with Laura as I know she thinks you’re a bit more organised than me.’

  ‘Oh Mum, she doesn’t think that at all,’ Rachel lied.

  ‘I just have a few hours’ work at the shop tomorrow morning. Do you think you could look after Naomi then? The rest of the time you can just help me out here and there when you’re not working.’

  ‘No problem at all,’ said Rachel, feeling very relieved that her whole weekend wasn’t going to be spent knee deep in baby stuff.

  Not long after Rowan and Laura left, Rachel’s mum gave Naomi her last bottle of the day and put her to bed in the brand new cot.

  ‘She went out like a light, bless her,’ she said. ‘Ah, h
ere’s your father back from golf.’

  Her dad strode into the room with his light blue v-neck jumper slightly stretching to fit over his expanding middle.

  ‘Hello, darling, how was your trip? Was your train on time?’

  ‘Hi, Dad. Nope, twelve minutes late,’ said Rachel, smiling to herself.

  Her dad shook his head.

  ‘I got a cab at the station fine, though; it was really quick,’ said Rachel in a vague attempt to placate his train line annoyance.

  ‘You made her get a cab?’ Her dad looked reproachfully at his wife.

  ‘You know I don’t like driving on a Friday evening. Far too crazy with everyone rushing to get home from work,’ said her mum. ‘And I had loads to do here, getting ready for Naomi to arrive.’

  Hmm, not including putting the cot together, thought Rachel, rubbing her wrist that was still sore from putting in what seemed like a hundred screws with a cheap screwdriver.

  ‘So where is my lovely granddaughter?’ said her dad, looking around.

  ‘In bed.’

  ‘Already? Blast it!’

  ‘Dad, she’s only seven months old − what did you expect? She’s hardly going to be joining us for a sherry, is she?’ said Rachel.

  ‘Sherry, did someone say sherry? Super idea, Rachel,’ said her dad, heading over to the drinks cabinet.

  Rachel didn’t have the energy to ask for a gin and tonic.

  ‘Gosh, it’s almost empty,’ said her dad, holding up the sherry bottle as if someone else had been drinking it. ‘Rachel, there’s a new one in the cupboard in the utility room; be a love and pop and get it, will you?’

  Rachel went through to the utility room, marginally irritated by her dad sending her off on errands like she still lived there. There was a large larder cupboard in the utility room next to the washing machine, tumble dryer and spare fridge-freezer. Her parents kept the cupboard so well stocked that she reckoned they could probably survive for a year without shopping if they had to. ‘You never know’, as her dad would say. Never know what? She had no idea, but preparing for the worst was just in his blood.

  As she turned on the light to the utility room, the light bulb blew with a sharp crack, making her jump. She clicked the other light switch to the under cupboard lights, which didn’t come on either. Damn, the fuse must have tripped! There was just enough evening light coming through the window for her to see what she was doing, so she opened the cupboard and hunted for the sherry. Her dad could deal with the bulb tomorrow; she’d had quite enough DIY for one day. Next to the sherry she spotted a bottle of vodka, so she grabbed that as well, ‘just in case’, and headed back to the sitting room.

  The next morning, Rachel stayed in bed trying to ignore the baby noises coming from downstairs. She wasn’t in charge until after breakfast and she intended to make the most of it. She’d done a good couple of hours’ work after supper last night and deserved a lie in.

  When she finally came down in her dressing gown her mum was humming to herself happily as Naomi lay in her bouncy chair on the floor gurgling. Babies do make some very odd noises, thought Rachel.

  Her dad was reading the paper and as usual was talking out loud to no one in particular about the story he was reading. ‘Honestly, it’s a disgrace, these parents. They have no idea how to control their children. They should be the ones in court, not these kids.’

  Rachel and her mum exchanged smiles.

  ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Ooh, yes please,’ said Rachel. ‘Morning, Dad, what are you up to today, apart from prosecuting parents, that is?’

  ‘Busy day, busy day,’ said her dad. ‘Mike and I are finishing those shelves in the church this morning and then I’ve got a committee meeting at the golf club. We’re looking at the plans to extend the ladies’ changing rooms. It’ll be a stormy one!’

  Rachel had heard all about the plans to extend the ladies’ changing rooms at the golf club many times. There had been an uproar when the plans were first put forward, as the changing room extension meant that the practice putting green would have to be moved about thirty feet to the right.

  ‘I have no idea why they need any more room to change anyway,’ her dad had said over and over again. ‘They should just get rid of all those unnecessary mirrors and hairdryers, put in some more benches. Then there would be plenty of room.’

  Rachel knew better than to engage in this debate. Her dad would never see that accommodating the increasing population of lady golfers at his club was more important than the position of the putting green.

  ‘And I’m off to the shop, back about two,’ said her mum. ‘Grace and I are redoing the window display this morning. We got such a lovely dress in this week, yards of green chiffon. We just have to show it off. It’s amazing what people will give away, you know. Must have cost a fortune new.’

  ‘Has Naomi had breakfast?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Oh yes, dear, ages ago. She had fruit baby porridge that Laura put in the fridge to defrost last night when she put all the rest of the food in the freezer.’

  Rachel finished her coffee, went for a shower and then eventually got rid of her parents.

  ‘Right then, tiny person, it’s just you and me now,’ she said to Naomi, crouching down by her chair. ‘So, shall we have a look at what’s on our fun-packed schedule for the morning?’

  She examined the notes. They had wriggle time on a play mat (nappy off to get some air to important bits) followed by story time (books listed) followed by a walk in the pushchair and then lunch. That doesn’t sound too hard, she thought.

  The notes also said ‘normally has a short nap in her bouncy chair at about nine a.m. for thirty to forty minutes’. Good, thought Rachel, off you go then. She looked at Naomi, who smiled back, not looking at all sleepy. Maybe she just needed some quiet. She carried the bouncy chair into the sitting room and put it between the sofa and a large armchair where it seemed a bit darker and calmer than in the bright kitchen. She put a blanket over Naomi and went back into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee.

  After a few minutes she peeped into the sitting room and Naomi was asleep. How easy was that! Feeling very pleased with herself, Rachel looked at the notes again to see what was for lunch. Organic chicken casserole. That sounded quite good; she could do with something like that for lunch too. She headed to the utility room to get the chicken casserole out of the freezer. ‘No microwave hot spots on my watch,’ she whispered to the sleeping Naomi as she went past the sitting room.

  She went into the utility room and opened the freezer door. As she did water ran out onto her shoes. ‘What on the earth?’ she said, stepping back from the freezer. She opened the first drawer of the freezer. Everything in it was defrosted. Melted ice cream was dripping onto packets of soft peas.

  She looked around the room. No lights were illuminated on any of the appliances. Shit! The bulb blowing must have tripped the fuse for the utility room. The freezer had been off all night. She grabbed the drawer with Naomi’s food in it. The neatly labelled pots were all dripping with condensation. Every single one had defrosted.

  Rachel put her hand over her mouth. Holy fuck! She’d forgotten to tell her dad about the bulb blowing. It was totally her fault and now all Naomi’s food was ruined.

  She ran to the fuse board in the front hall, where the offending switch was flicked to off. She turned it back on and went back to the utility room. The under cupboard lights were on and the fridge-freezer was humming away.

  She mopped up the water, shut the freezer door and changed the bulb in the main light. Then she sat at the kitchen table in shock. Now what was she going to do? She had twenty minutes maximum until Naomi woke up and about three hours until lunch. There was no other option. She would just have to make all the food again.

  Rachel went into panic-driven overdrive. She ran into the utility room and wrote down all the meals written neatly on the pots: sweet potato and broccoli baby rice, apple and pear puree, fruity porri
dge − the list seemed endless. She then booted up her parents’ computer and started searching for baby food recipes. As she found each one, she saved it as a favourite page so she could get it again quickly later and wrote down a shopping list. How could baby food have so many ingredients in it? Christ, organic chicken casserole needed homemade chicken stock!

  She’d just about finished when Naomi woke up.

  ‘Hi there, baby girl! So, bit of a change of plan this morning. We’re having a walk in the pushchair now followed by cooking with Aunty Rachel. How does that sound?’

  Naomi just smiled at her. You’re very cute, thought Rachel.

  She put Naomi in the pushchair, congratulated herself on remembering the nappy change bag even in this moment of crisis and headed off to the supermarket. As she arrived, she was confronted with a new dilemma. What do you do with a pushchair and a supermarket trolley? She was just about to attempt to push both when she saw a mother with a baby seat attached to the front of her trolley walk past. Hah! That was it. She found the mother and baby trolley section and switched Naomi into the trolley baby chair, leaving the pushchair in the ‘designated pushchair parking area’. Good system, she thought; they do think of everything, these supermarkets.

  Once inside, Rachel started at the fruit and vegetable section. She quickly collected the things on her list. There seemed so much. How could one tiny person need this much stuff? After a few minutes practically running up and down the aisles, she’d got most things − just baby rice to find. She went to the baby section and started looking for baby rice. As she did, she noticed a jar of baby food labelled ‘Organic chicken casserole’. Next to it was another labelled ‘Vegetables with rice’. Rachel stared at the jars in amazement. There was everything she needed, or if not exactly the same, very similar. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Could she really get them instead? God, it would be easier.

  Rachel hesitated − she was sure that Laura would never give Naomi food from jars.