Page 33 of The Mother-in-Law

‘Seven,’ I say.

‘So what happens now?’

‘Once he’s in his sleepsuit he’ll play for a bit. Then I read him a story, give him a bottle and put him to bed.’

‘Will he wake during the night?’

Nettie is interested in every detail. It’s funny and also unnecessary because she is a natural with babies in a way that few people are. In the past I’ve had the impression she and Patrick are waiting a while before having kids, perhaps until their careers are more established, but now I wonder if that’s the case. I think of Nettie’s green complexion earlier and wonder if she might be pregnant.

‘The Greenans are here,’ Diana’s voice announces from the top of the stairs as Nettie is washing Archie’s hair. ‘Can you kids come up?’

‘We’re bathing, Archie,’ Nettie replies, grinning at Archie. He grins back at her.

There’s a pause. ‘All of you?’ Diana askes pointedly.

I open my mouth, ready to say that I’ll finish up, that everyone else should head on upstairs. After all, I’d rather be down here than up there. But Nettie, to my surprise, gets in first. ‘Yes, all of us.’

The silence stretches on and on. I find myself desperate to fill it but Nettie looks at me and shakes her head. In the tiny gesture, I realise I’ve underestimated Nettie. She’s a better ally than I originally thought.

‘I’ll go,’ Ollie says, climbing to his feet. Patrick also rises, though I expect it’s his desire to drink Tom’s top-shelf wine rather than his desire to appease Diana. Nettie remains where she is on the floor, rinsing Archie’s hair and babbling to him in a low, soothing voice.

By the time Nettie and I make it upstairs, everyone is sitting at the outdoor table and the pleasant hum of music and chatter can be heard from the stairwell. I watch the scene through the huge glass doors, taking it all in—water as far as the eye can see; twinkling fairy lights strung up on the trees, the peach glow of sunset spilling its light all over everything and everyone. The table has been decorated in white and burlap with silver lanterns, candles and ornaments . . . it’s breathtaking.

‘Here they are,’ Tom says, spotting us.

Everyone turns. Jeffrey Greenan’s teeth are already stained red from wine. He makes a great show of getting up when we appear, despite our insistence that he remain seated.

‘Ladies!’ he says, swaggering over. His white shirt is unbuttoned just a little too far and grey-black hair curls up his chest almost as far as the jugular. ‘My, my, Lucy, motherhood suits you. And Nettie, aren’t you growing up?’

It strikes me as an odd thing to say to a woman in her mid-thirties. He winks and Nettie’s smile tenses.

He is already more awful than I remembered.

I walk over to the outdoor power outlet and plug in the baby monitor. I flip the switch and the green light illuminates, indicating that it’s working.

‘What is that noise?’ Diana exclaims and my stomach pulls tight. ‘That . . . crackling?’

Admittedly, the monitor has seen better days—it’s a second-hand one I found at a charity shop. It works fine but, when switched on, it hums a highly static tune. I’ve become so used to it I’ve stopped noticing. ‘Oh, Archie was a little fussy so I brought the monitor up.’

Diana looks perplexed. ‘Does it always make thatsound?’

Everyone quiets down and listens while I stand there like a fool. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think,If you hadn’t sent us downstairs to the dungeon, we wouldn’t need the darn monitor.

‘Oh, but aren’t they great, these little devices they have nowadays?’ Amelia says, touching Diana’s arm. Amelia is petite and freckled, in a white linen dress and gold slide-on sandals. She is, at once, pretty and plain, with small blue eyes, a grey-blonde bob and a propensity to touch that somehow makes her endearing—the very opposite of her husband. I find myself fantasising about having Amelia for a mother-in-law. Even with Jeffrey for a father-in-law, it might be worth it.

Itmightbe.

‘Wouldn’t we have wished for monitors when we had little ones, Diana?’ Amelia continues.

Clearly Diana wishes nothing of the sort. She is a no-nonsense kind of mother and grandmother, the kind that thinks breastfeeding and back-to-sleep and seatbelts are all nonsense because her kids didn’t have them and it never did them any harm. At least I think she is that kind of mother, but I don’t know because she rarely bestows on me any actual advice or opinions. In theory this is a good thing, but instead it just leaves me with a general feeling of getting it wrong without any idea of how to do better.

‘Just make sure the volume is turned down,’ Diana says under duress as she begins to hand out the plates.

‘Come and sit next to me,’ Jeffrey says to me. Nettie has already taken the other remaining chair so I don’t have a lot of choice. ‘Tell me . . . how are you enjoying motherhood so far?’

‘I’m enjoying it a lot more now that those first few months are over.’

‘Yes.’ He nods as though he knows exactly how those first few months are, then he looks knowingly at Ollie. ‘All tits and shits, those first few months, right, Ollie?’