Chapter Forty-Six
They say that the older one gets, the faster time seems to pass. They also say that when you have children, time simply flies past so as parents in our fifties, you can imagine how time seemed to rocket by for Pete and me.
Before we knew it, January had ended, February was upon us and Leanne was three months old. Still small for her age, she was unquestionably the most striking looking of my three babies, and by far the sweetest tempered. She was even sleeping through the night too, at least from eleven in the evening through to five in the morning so Pete and I were getting enough sleep to make life tolerable.
I had lost some but by no means all of the weight I had put on during pregnancy, especially around my waist and hips but with Pete's help I was now able to go for the occasional run so had some confidence that my skinny body might one day return.
He sent me flowers and took me for a romantic dinner on Valentine's day in our favourite local restaurant. One of my new friends; a single Mum I had met at ante natal classes kept an eye on Leanne in our house for a couple of hours of freedom for me.
Although money did change hands, the real payback would take place if and when her unreliable boyfriend ever decided to do the right thing and pay the mother of his child some attention again.
I have to admit I was quite wrong about those classes and groups. Far from being a chore and a waste of time, they were in fact a welcome break from the world I had lived in for so long. My new friends had incomes I couldn't possibly survive on but were still happy and friendly and warm.
Unlike my own middle-class circle who were studiously avoiding mentioning the obvious fact that olive skinned Leanne wasn't my husband's child, several of my new friends came straight out with it then immediately dismissed it as being nothing out of the ordinary - at least not compared with being a Mum in my fifties.
Several had other, similar stories of their own to tell.
Although I said nothing to confirm or deny their correct assertions, their straightforward acceptance of my apparent infidelity and Leanne's uncertain parentage took my most significant fear off the table and allowed me to relax more than I had since I had discovered I was pregnant.
The Valentines card from Tony with its highly sexual message and the expensive perfume that arrived secretly too were carefully hidden under the pile of former work clothes in my wardrobe.
I hardly thought about my paused work and research at all.
Our first grandchild was a joy too. Being both a Mum and a Grandma was complicated but on the few occasions we got together, a very rewarding one. Living in London, Josh and Sam were too far away to see often, but we did exchange messages and baby pictures almost daily.
Izzy and Jack seemed to have found a way to make their relationship work tolerably over the distance between their Universities. Both came home frequently, supposedly to visit their parents but when they were home either in our house or Julie's, they were seldom seen in daylight.
They were however, frequently heard. Or at least Izzy was, living up to her 'Izzy-Oh-God' nickname with a vengeance.
Interestingly, they never seemed to stay with Jack's Dad, Tony. I'm not sure they even went to visit him in his bachelor flat. They certainly never mentioned having done so.
It was during one of the extremely rare weekends in which both Izzy and Josh were home, that I received the rarest of messages from Tim, asking if he could stay with us overnight. Of course, the idea of having the whole family together even for a single evening brought joy to my heart. Not even when Leanne was born had all of us been under the same roof at the same time, so I welcomed the idea with open arms.
Josh, Samantha and their baby arrived on Friday evening and moved into Josh's old bedroom. Izzy and Jack were to stay Friday night at Julie's then Saturday night with us. I have to say, spending that first evening talking non-stop babies with my daughter in law and cuddling my first grandchild was a truly wonderful experience.
The look on Pete's face when he held the little creature in his arms reminded me why I loved him so very much.
Saturday morning was spent shopping and walking in the park and having a pub lunch, then returning home to find Izzy and Jack already ensconced in her bedroom. Jack was in the shower when we arrived. When she greeted us, Izzy looked dishevelled and smelled strongly of recent, orgasmic sex.
To my disappointment, Tim did not arrive until later afternoon. I knew he had to catch a train the following lunchtime which severely limited the amount of time the family could be together. Indeed, I did wonder why he had made such an effort to join us when he could only stay less than twenty-four hours.
Still, all such thoughts disappeared when Pete's car pulled into the driveway having collected him from the station and a moment later, the sweet, slender form of my middle child entered the hallway. He looked tired and anxious, but I was so pleased to see him that I actually began to cry.
Izzy seemed equally pleased, almost jumping with excitement at her brother's arrival. The two of them had always been very close, sharing secrets that Pete and I never got to learn. Even Josh had been excluded from some of their antics.
When the two hugged, it was as if they hadn't seen each other for years rather than a few weeks. Full of reassuring smiles, Izzy threw her arms around his neck and I'm sure she whispered something into his ear.
Pete poured us all champagne though it was barely six o'clock, and we drank each other's health heartily. Then in what could be called an appalling case of gender stereotyping, all three girls went into the kitchen to prepare dinner while the three boys and two babies watched football highlights in the lounge.
Of course it was nothing like that; Sam and I wanted to be able to talk intimately about babies and our post-birth bodies without being overheard by our spouses. A girl needs to have some secrets.
Izzy put up with the subject nobly, but I could see her eyes glazing over more than once and she refreshed our glasses far more frequently than was necessary. I could see she was pleased when Samantha had to leave us to provide the feed her baby was so loudly demanding.
With so many of us there, dinner was served in the dining room for as change. The food was complimented liberally, as were the three female cooks. Wine was served even more liberally; I could see my normally abstemious son Tim indulging far more than usual.
Indeed his words were a little slurred after dessert had been taken and the coffee set to brew. I could see him tense as the conversation moved around the table.
"And how's Thomas?" Pete asked once the coffee had been served.
Thomas was Tim's rugby-playing flatmate. A couple of years older than our son, we had met him only once or twice when he had driven Tim home in his sports car. At the time I had found him extremely attractive and had secretly fantasised about him several times since during feeding.
"He's... okay thanks Dad," Tim replied awkwardly.
This reply was unusually formal for him. I looked up to see him close his eyes for a second then take a deep breath as if summoning up strength or courage.
"Actually, Thomas is the reason I came home this weekend," he began. "Well, one of the reasons."
His voice was trembling. The conversation came to a halt as we all listened carefully. He now had the interested attention of all of us around the table. I could feel Izzy's body tense; something big was coming and she knew what is.
"I know you've all met Thomas," Tim continued uncertainly. "I hope you all liked him. He certainly liked all of you."
"Of course we liked him," Pete replied, smiling. "Especially your mother. You couldn't ask for a nicer flatmate."
For a moment I wondered what Pete meant by this. Had he noticed just how attractive I had found they boy? After all, thanks to Darren and Will, Pete knew that my taste for young men could be considerable and physical.
"That's just it, Dad," Tim replied. "He's not my flatmate."
