From Mum With Love Page 7
Deciding to leave them to it, Jessica stepped back inside the lounge and towards the kitchen to make the coffee. They had a snazzy machine to make single cups, but preferred to work their way through a large cafetière at the weekend. As she poured the water over the ground beans, the scent of rich, nutty coffee quickly filled the kitchen. She inhaled deeply, feeling happy.
‘I’m just heading up for a quick shower,’ Chris called, as he made his way up the stairs. ‘She’s happy in the garden.’
‘Hang on,’ she called back. ‘Want to take your coffee up?’ But he was already gone, so she carried two mugs out to the garden and placed them on the wooden patio table. Pulling out a chair, she sat down. Cupping her coffee, she watched Bella play on the lawn.
After a few minutes, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her pyjamas and spent a while checking all her latest blog statistics, before finding her way back to Tiggy’s blog page and hovering over the ‘Send message’ button.
She’d just draft something quickly, she thought, clicking on the button and beginning to type:
Hi Tiggy,
I hope you are well! I don’t know if you will remember me, but I’m Francesca Colleridge’s sister and we were neighbours as children in Mottingham. It’s been so lovely to discover your blog and see pictures of your beautiful family! Congratulations on doing so well with the blog! I’m seriously impressed!
I recently started my own blog and if you have time, I’d really appreciate your advice. It’s been going much better than I expected and I now have over 1,000 followers. I don’t really know whether I am doing everything right and I found my first negative comment quite tough to deal with! Would you have time for a coffee soon? I don’t know how easy it is to get to London, but I’m always happy to come to you. Or maybe we could chat by email if that is hard to organise. The link is here if you want to look – www.letterstomydaughter.co.uk. Thank you Tiggy! I hope to chat soon!
Love Jessica
She read back over what she’d written a few times. She just sounded so inexperienced! She mulled over whether to delete it. Her mind continued to taunt her, embarrassed by her obvious naivety, but she knew she needed to send it.
Hearing Chris coming back down the stairs, she thought, fuck it and pressed ‘Send’. And just like that, her message was hurtling towards the inbox of one of the UK’s most successful mummy bloggers.
They spent the rest of Saturday together as a family and it was all pretty idyllic until Bella decided an impromptu brunch at their favourite Greenwich café would be the perfect time for one of her finest tantrums to date. It was so fine that it involved scrambled eggs on the floor (dangerously close to a fellow diner’s handbag), a smacked head on a table (not one of Jessica’s parenting highlights to date), and an under-their-breath argument between Jessica and Chris that involved plenty of ‘I told you this was a bad idea!’ and ‘Will you just relax and try to enjoy it?!!’ as they shot glares at each other across the table.
So embarrassed by the commotion, Jessica had finished her eggs benedict and cappuccino in a couple of minutes, strapped a rigid Bella into her buggy, red-faced and screaming, and stormed out the café, leaving Chris to finish his breakfast and pay the bill.
Ten minutes later, he had followed them into the park. Jessica tried to swallow her anger and apologise. ‘I’m sorry babe,’ she said, turning to look at him. ‘I find it really hard at the weekend, as we’re in such a good routine during the week. I want her to be one of those chilled children that sits nicely in a highchair in a café when we fancy a meal out, but it just never bloody works.’
‘Well, it’ll never work if we don’t try,’ Chris said, sipping the remainders of the coffee that he’d asked the waitress to transfer to a takeaway cup.
Jessica shrugged. ‘But then on Monday, when I need her to nap at lunchtime, she’ll be out of the routine again. And what’s more important? Taking her to a restaurant at the weekend for a screaming match, or me getting through the week without having to resort to a shot of gin at lunchtime?’
‘Well, why would you want to stop that now?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Oi! Things aren’t that bad,’ Jessica replied. ‘Despite Bella’s best efforts.’
Throwing his coffee cup in a nearby bin, he took the buggy from Jessica with one hand and found Jessica’s hand with the other. For a few minutes, they walked hand-in-hand towards the far gate of the park.
‘Why don’t you leave us to it one weekend?’ Chris asked, as they walked through the large iron gate and onto the pavement. ‘I’ll stick to the routine at home, and you can get away for a few days and have a break?’
‘What do you mean?’ Jessica replied. ‘Go to Mum and Dad’s? I don’t think there’s actually room for—’
‘No, I don’t mean your mum and dad’s house!’ Chris laughed. ‘I mean a proper break. I don’t know, I mean with a friend. Why don’t you head down to Southampton to see Callie for the weekend or something like that?’
Jessica flinched. ‘Oh no, I don’t think that would work… It would be hard as she works shifts at the hospital and probably wouldn’t be around…’
‘So what?’ Chris said. ‘Then go shopping while she’s working? Or go to a spa and get a massage? Just do something for yourself! And then you can both catch up properly when she’s home.’
‘Yep well, we’ll see… I’m not sure we’re on good enough terms, to be honest,’ Jessica said, looking down at her flip-flopped feet as she walked.
‘Why? Because she didn’t come to Bella’s birthday party?’ Chris asked.
‘Well yes, I’m still a bit upset about that,’ Jessica replied. ‘She hasn’t messaged since then either.’
‘I didn’t realise that. Was she was working that weekend? Did she give you a reason?’ Chris asked.
‘She didn’t reply to the invitation for weeks,’ Jessica explained, ‘and when I messaged her to ask if she was coming, she said she already had plans to go camping with some friends from work.’
‘Well, maybe she did have a plan,’ Chris replied. ‘But she should probably have said that from the start.’
‘Yep…’ Jessica said, her tone flat. ‘I understand my life is very different now. She’s single, doing really well in her career, and has a busy social life. I get that visiting babies isn’t high up her priority list, because it wouldn’t have been high up mine until a year ago – but I’m still the same person, so why is she letting the friendship fizzle out? We’ve been friends since we were eleven years old.’
‘It’s just one of those things, I think,’ Chris said. ‘It’s sometimes the people you least expect to be flaky that disappear from your life when it takes a different turn. I was surprised how few of my mates reached out when Mum died, but that’s life. As the years go on, you learn who really values your friendship.’
‘Thank God I met the girls,’ Jessica replied. ‘The weeks would be pretty dull without them.’
‘I’ll take full credit for that, thanks,’ Chris said, winking. ‘I knew you should go to that class!’
‘Yes, you’re just bloody amazing, aren’t you babe?’ Jessica replied, laughing. ‘And a bloody know-it-all too…’
‘That’s why you love me,’ he said, moving his hand to her shoulder with a squeeze. ‘But think about it, OK? Head away with Fran for the weekend – or get the girls together for a night away. Me and Bella will be fine on our own!’
‘I can’t imagine leaving you both,’ Jessica replied. ‘But I will think about it, thank you.’
They strolled home slowly in the sunshine, with Bella fast asleep in her buggy. The rest of the day was spent lazily at home, watching films, playing in the garden, and reading recipe books on the sofa. Jessica even got the chance to type up her next blog post, watching the likes immediately start rolling in. It was a good day, and as she lay on the sofa with Chris that evening, with a tummy full of Indian food he’d expertly knocked up while she’d put Bella to bed, she felt happily relaxed. She loved her weekend
s with her little family.
In fact, she was so distracted by the normality of the day that it wasn’t until 9 p.m. that she remembered the message she’d sent Tiggy Blenheim that morning. As soon as it crossed her mind, she reached for her phone on the arm of the sofa to see whether she’d had a reply.
Disappointingly, but probably not surprisingly given that Tiggy had five children, she hadn’t written back – but Jessica could see she had read it, with the words ‘Seen at 10.02 a.m.’ written underneath the message. Knowing she’d seen it made Jessica’s stomach plunge with nerves. She sat for a moment, imagining the moment Tiggy had seen the message pop up on her phone in her country farmhouse.
She felt silly for even sending it now. Why would the creator of ‘Tiggy Does Motherhood’ want to have a coffee with her? Thinking about it, she sighed loudly, which prompted Chris to turn his attention from the TV to ask: ‘You OK, what’s wrong?’
‘Yep,’ she replied, knowing he would think she was overreacting when she explained. ‘It’s just that I sent a message to the blogger this morning, the one that Fran suggested, and she hasn’t replied.’
‘You sent it this morning?’ he asked, with a raised eyebrow.
‘Yep.’
‘Give her a chance, honey. She probably gets a hundred messages every day,’ he said.
‘You think? A hundred?’
‘Probably!’ Chris said. ‘I don’t know!’
Jessica shrugged. ‘Wow.’
‘Have you had any messages from your readers yet?’ he asked.
‘Well, kind of,’ she replied. ‘I had a few messages on social media commenting on various blog posts. Not many, but a few.’
‘And what about emails?’ he asked.
‘Emails? I don’t think I have an email address for the blog?’ she said, suddenly not feeling entirely sure herself.
‘Of course you do, Jess – it’s written in your “Contact Me” section. Do you know how to get onto your inbox? Did Becca set it up?’ he asked.
Jessica didn’t reply, but instead clicked onto her blog on her phone and found the ‘Contact Me’ section.
Chris was right; there it was in black and white.
Want to get in touch? Send me an email at jessica@letterstomydaughter.co.uk
I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!
‘Shit. You’re right’ she finally said. ‘I’ve no idea how I’m supposed to check them…’
Leaving the warmth of the sofa, she made her way to the dining table to grab her laptop. After a few minutes scrolling through the documents Becca had sent her weeks ago with instructions on how to work her blog, she found the details for cracking into her emails. And just a few scrolls, clicks, and taps later, she was staring at an inbox.
‘Oh my God,’ she finally managed to splutter, as her eyes darted up and down the screen.
‘Are you in? Anything exciting?’ Chris asked, turning to her from the sofa.
‘Yep I’m in,’ she replied. ‘And I have 106 unread messages.’
‘Really?’ Chris asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Anything interesting?’
‘It’s going to take me all night to go through them,’ she replied, scrolling and reading as she spoke. ‘But bloody hell, look at this one…’
‘What does it say?’ Chris asked, as Jessica’s eyes scanned down the email.
‘Well,’ she said, looking up with wide eyes. ‘I’ve been invited to an event!’
6
Followers – 1,850
Emails in inbox – 106
Event invitations – 1
Dear Bella,
You were three weeks old when we finally decided on your name. We knew that ‘Baby Girl’, ‘Piglet’ and ‘Sleep Thief’ wouldn’t cut it in the real world, so one evening, Daddy and I sat down together on the sofa and vowed that we wouldn’t get up again until we’d decided. We had to back down on that promise when midway through discussions we heard you explode into your nappy while lying asleep in your basket on the living room floor. The noise was quite frankly astonishing, and we quickly discovered that you needed an entire head-to-foot change, as did the sheet you were lying on.
When we got back to the nitty gritty of name choosing (and believe me Bella, it took a while), Daddy had a couple of favourites, as did I. My argument was that having grown you and pushed you out, I should get the final say on the matter – but he just didn’t think you suited anything I suggested, so we had reached a stalemate.
I had a big book of baby names that Granny had bought us in the hope that we might open a page and pick something eventually. Occasionally I’d flick through it in desperation and shout out a suggestion. ‘Minnie?’ I offered, trying it out for size. We both looked down at you in your basket to see whether it worked. ‘No,’ Daddy said, ‘it doesn’t suit her.’ ‘How about Ada?’ I asked. ‘No’, Daddy quipped back quickly, ‘I like it, but my school dinner lady was called Ada and I’m not sure if I could….’ ‘Elizabeth?’ he asked, looking at me hopefully. ‘No, too regal for our Piglet,’ I shot back, without taking my eyes off you. ‘Isabella?’ he asked again, as you flinched suddenly in shock. ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, ‘Isabella. Isabella. Isabella.’ I tried it out a few more times, seeing whether it rolled off the tongue. ‘I don’t hate it, but I’m not sure. It’s just not quite right.’ We both sat in silence for a few minutes, before it seemed to dawn on us at exactly the same moment that we’d stumbled on the perfect name. ‘BELLA!’ I said, jiggling with excitement on the spot. ‘Just Bella! She’s BELLA! I love it!’ I was so excited that I hadn’t even glanced at Daddy but when I finally stopped dancing and looked over, I discovered that he was smiling widely. ‘It suits her,’ he said, reaching down to lift you out of your bassinet. ‘How about Bella Evelyn, after my mum?’ he said, kissing you gently on the forehead as you yawned widely. ‘Perfect,’ I replied. ‘Just perfect.’
Sorry it took so long, Bella.
But I think it was worth the wait.
Love from Mummy x
*
‘Can you read the email out loud?’ Fran asked, curled on the sofa next to Jessica at their parents’ home, warming her hands on her mug of coffee. It was raining again and as they chatted, drops drummed noisily on the windows.
Jessica noticed her mother standing in the doorway. She was wearing an apron over her dress, which had grease splatters on it already. The scent coming from the kitchen was delicious, as a joint of beef sizzled away in the oven, surrounded by the crispiest roast potatoes and a huge dish of bubbling cauliflower cheese. Chris and her dad were chatting in the kitchen, Freddie was lounging in an armchair watching videos on his iPad, and Bella was happily unpacking a giant box of vintage toys from the 1980s, which had been rescued from the attic when she was born.
Jessica pulled out her phone at Fran’s request and spent some time clicking and scrolling until she found the email. She cleared her throat with a quick cough and continued:
Dear Jessica,
We’ve been keeping up to date with your blog for a few weeks now at Jumbled Agency and we are big fans of the way you write and how naturally you interact with your readers! We think
Yours Sincerely,
Victoria Demblebury
Account Executive
Jumbled Agency
* * *
YOU ARE INVITED TO THE LAUNCH OF ‘SQUEEZE & GURGLE’ ORGANIC BABY FOOD POUCHES!
Please join us on Friday 20th July 2018 at Munch! in Borough Market, from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.!
Drop in whenever you like for bites to eat, mini manicures, face painting for little ones, and the chance to check out the exciting new Squeeze & Gurgle range!
Make sure you RSVP, as we have a generous shopping voucher for every attendee!
* * *
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br /> As she finished reading, Fran raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Do you think you’ll go?’
‘Generous shopping voucher?’ her mother interrupted loudly from the doorway. ‘Of course, she’s going to go! I wonder how much it’ll be.’
‘Alright Mum,’ Jessica interrupted. ‘I’m pretty sure that whatever the value of the shopping voucher, it isn’t going to be worth dragging Bella into Central London for the day.’
‘Well, drop her here first then! Go on your own!’ her mother replied, quickly followed by a yell to the kitchen: ‘Frank! Can you check on the beef? It’s not burning, is it?’
Satisfied that the lunch wasn’t on fire, the conversation continued. ‘Thanks Mum, but if I decide to go, I’ll take Bella with me. I don’t want to be the only one that turns up childless to an event selling baby food!’
Her mother nodded and turned back to the kitchen, giving Fran and Jessica the chance to chat. ‘It is amazing though, isn’t it, Jessy? You hadn’t even written a blog post until a few months ago and now you’re being invited to posh launches! Did you get anything else interesting in that inbox?’
Jessica shrugged. ‘Not really. A few companies emailing me to tell me about kids’ clothes or kids-eat-for-free deals at pizza restaurants. A few lovely emails from readers, commenting on blog posts. And an email from Mr J Adajowbi in Nigeria telling me I was the lucky winner of one and a half million pounds…’
Fran laughed, distracting Bella from shooting cars down the ramp of her toy garage for a moment. Fran and Jessica’s parents had lived in the same house for forty-four years, bringing both their daughters into the world and raising them within its grey, pebbledash walls. The house was a modest semi-detached on a quiet street, with three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs and a lounge, kitchen, and small office downstairs. They had paid the mortgage off twenty years ago, but it hadn’t even crossed their minds to move.