Shelly says diplomatically. “She’s bound to need at least one change.”
“But you’ll put her in the velvet for the photographs.” Pauline’s not giving up without a fight.
“Mum!” Shelly says again.
Pauline sniffs. “I’m just saying . . .”
“Well, don’t.” Shelly opens the cards. The one from Mum and Dave has a Mothercare gift card tucked inside. She reads the messages and smiles. “Thanks, all of you. They’re wonderful presents. And the gift card’s really practical.”
Gracie’s eyes are open again and Shelly holds up the sailor dress. “Look, Gracie-gru,” she says. “Isn’t it cute? Art? What do you think?”
Dad is still standing by the window, staring at the screen of his BlackBerry.
“Art!” Shelly doesn’t look pleased. “Put that thing down and come and look at the presents.”
He raises a hand but doesn’t look up. “Just a second. Something important’s happening in the markets.”
“More important than your own daughter?” Shelly says. “ART!”
Gracie jumps and gives a little mewing cry. This time Dad looks up. I rock her again and she stops and goes back to sleep.
“I think it’s time to go,” Mum whispers.
“Exit stage left,” Clover adds. “Better give the baby back first, Amy.”
I sigh. “Can’t I keep her? She’s so cute.” Standing up carefully, I hand her back to Shelly. “Thanks for letting me have a cuddle. And as soon as she’s home, I’ll come and stay with you and help out. Give you a rest.”
Pauline gives me a snooty look down her nose. “But I’ll be there, Amy, so they’ll hardly need your help. Besides, I’m not sure where you’ll sleep, as I’m in the only spare room.” Her lips curl when she says the word “help,” and I feel my stomach clench in anger. What a hag! And she must know that’s my room.
“That’s only temporary,” Clover says firmly. Pauline looks at her and they lock eyes. She’s picked the wrong family to mess with.
“That sounds lovely, Amy,” Shelly says, glaring at Pauline. “And thanks so much for the presents. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to write you all proper thank-you notes,” she adds with a wink.
As soon as we’re out of earshot and walking back down the stairs, Clover says, “That Pauline woman is as territorial as a She-Rex. Did you see the looks she was giving you, Beanie? Jealous of a teenager — what’s she like?”
“Jealous of what, exactly?” I ask.
“Of all the fuss Shelly was making of you,” Clover says. “And all the ‘Amy’s brilliant with babies’ stuff. And the way you were able to soothe Gracie back to sleep. Must have put her nose out of joint. Shelly’s not normally so nice to you.”
“That’s a bit unfair, Clover,” Mum says. “Shelly has always tried to be nice to Amy.”
Clover snorts. “Hello! She nicked Amy’s last bedroom and painted it yellow. Made it into a nursery behind Art’s back, remember? Since when are you on Little Miss Perky’s side?” Clover pauses. “But I guess she was being a bit less painful than normal today.”
Personally, I think Shelly was being really sweet — Dad was the useless one, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Having a baby changes you,” Mum says quietly. “I feel a bit sorry for Shelly. Art isn’t exactly being very attentive. And imagine having a mother like that.”
“No kidding,” Clover says. “Did you see Pauline’s pillow cheeks? Filler-rama. She’s obviously been playing around with Botox too.”
“How can you tell?” I ask, intrigued.
“I-spy-the-Botox-addict is Saffy’s favorite game. She can’t look at a celeb photo without picking over the enhanced features. If Shelly’s going on thirty, Pauline must be, what, late forties, early fifties? No one has baby-smooth skin at that age. And according to Saff, Spock eyebrows are a dead giveaway. Plus, the woman has no frown lines or crow’s-feet. You’re years younger, Sylvie, and you have crow’s-feet.”
“Thanks for
“But you’ll put her in the velvet for the photographs.” Pauline’s not giving up without a fight.
“Mum!” Shelly says again.
Pauline sniffs. “I’m just saying . . .”
“Well, don’t.” Shelly opens the cards. The one from Mum and Dave has a Mothercare gift card tucked inside. She reads the messages and smiles. “Thanks, all of you. They’re wonderful presents. And the gift card’s really practical.”
Gracie’s eyes are open again and Shelly holds up the sailor dress. “Look, Gracie-gru,” she says. “Isn’t it cute? Art? What do you think?”
Dad is still standing by the window, staring at the screen of his BlackBerry.
“Art!” Shelly doesn’t look pleased. “Put that thing down and come and look at the presents.”
He raises a hand but doesn’t look up. “Just a second. Something important’s happening in the markets.”
“More important than your own daughter?” Shelly says. “ART!”
Gracie jumps and gives a little mewing cry. This time Dad looks up. I rock her again and she stops and goes back to sleep.
“I think it’s time to go,” Mum whispers.
“Exit stage left,” Clover adds. “Better give the baby back first, Amy.”
I sigh. “Can’t I keep her? She’s so cute.” Standing up carefully, I hand her back to Shelly. “Thanks for letting me have a cuddle. And as soon as she’s home, I’ll come and stay with you and help out. Give you a rest.”
Pauline gives me a snooty look down her nose. “But I’ll be there, Amy, so they’ll hardly need your help. Besides, I’m not sure where you’ll sleep, as I’m in the only spare room.” Her lips curl when she says the word “help,” and I feel my stomach clench in anger. What a hag! And she must know that’s my room.
“That’s only temporary,” Clover says firmly. Pauline looks at her and they lock eyes. She’s picked the wrong family to mess with.
“That sounds lovely, Amy,” Shelly says, glaring at Pauline. “And thanks so much for the presents. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to write you all proper thank-you notes,” she adds with a wink.
As soon as we’re out of earshot and walking back down the stairs, Clover says, “That Pauline woman is as territorial as a She-Rex. Did you see the looks she was giving you, Beanie? Jealous of a teenager — what’s she like?”
“Jealous of what, exactly?” I ask.
“Of all the fuss Shelly was making of you,” Clover says. “And all the ‘Amy’s brilliant with babies’ stuff. And the way you were able to soothe Gracie back to sleep. Must have put her nose out of joint. Shelly’s not normally so nice to you.”
“That’s a bit unfair, Clover,” Mum says. “Shelly has always tried to be nice to Amy.”
Clover snorts. “Hello! She nicked Amy’s last bedroom and painted it yellow. Made it into a nursery behind Art’s back, remember? Since when are you on Little Miss Perky’s side?” Clover pauses. “But I guess she was being a bit less painful than normal today.”
Personally, I think Shelly was being really sweet — Dad was the useless one, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Having a baby changes you,” Mum says quietly. “I feel a bit sorry for Shelly. Art isn’t exactly being very attentive. And imagine having a mother like that.”
“No kidding,” Clover says. “Did you see Pauline’s pillow cheeks? Filler-rama. She’s obviously been playing around with Botox too.”
“How can you tell?” I ask, intrigued.
“I-spy-the-Botox-addict is Saffy’s favorite game. She can’t look at a celeb photo without picking over the enhanced features. If Shelly’s going on thirty, Pauline must be, what, late forties, early fifties? No one has baby-smooth skin at that age. And according to Saff, Spock eyebrows are a dead giveaway. Plus, the woman has no frown lines or crow’s-feet. You’re years younger, Sylvie, and you have crow’s-feet.”
“Thanks for