No-One Ever Has Sex on a Tuesday (13 page)

‘Here, can you just hold George for one second?’ she said, thrusting a baby into his arms whilst she adjusted another one into a sling tied over her shoulder.

This could not be happening, thought Ben. Charlene was supposed to be solving his problems, not bringing into his house the unknowing wife of the man who’d shagged his girlfriend.

‘That’s better,’ Alison said, once she’d got baby number two into position. ‘Now, there’s no need to worry.’ She placed a hand on Ben’s flinching shoulder. ‘When Charlene said you were in a state and needed my expertise, how could I refuse? But I know what you’re thinking . . .’

I very much doubt it
, thought Ben.

‘I am the last person who should be rushing to your side, given what happened at Charlene’s wedding.’

‘Look—’ Ben started.

‘No, listen,’ Alison interrupted. ‘Matthew explained everything. And I totally forgive you.’

‘Really?’ Ben couldn’t help but exclaim.

‘Of course,’ said Alison. ‘It was just a bit of jealousy, that’s all. I understand.’

‘You do?’ Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Could Alison really understand Ben’s jealousy of her husband sleeping with his girlfriend? He’d always thought that Alison was slightly weird, but there was weird and there was utterly bonkers.

‘I know we are very fortunate with our lovely big house and brand-new car and all that. It’s easy to see how you could let a little bit of envy get the better of you, especially when you were drunk.’

Ben was speechless.

‘And I know that Matthew has totally forgiven you, so if he can forgive you for leaving him lying in the middle of that dance floor, unconscious, when his wife could have gone into labour at any minute, then so can I.’

‘Well, thank you,’ said Ben slowly.

‘You’re welcome,’ said Alison. ‘Besides, when Charlene told me that Katy had demanded to go back to work leaving you holding the baby, well, what could I do? It is my duty to support my fellow stay-at-home mums-slash-dads.’
She plucked George from Ben’s arms and strode past him into the lounge.

Ben closed the door behind her, taking in the traumatising sight of three pushchairs outside his front door, including some monstrous contraption made for two babies. How had this happened? Today was supposed to be about regaining control and he already felt like he was fast spinning out of it. He walked into the lounge in a daze.

‘She’s so got your eyes,’ said Abby, gathering Millie from the baby gym in the middle of the floor and clutching her close to her chest. Millie started to cough.
Good grief
, Ben thought,
she’s going to stink of cheap perfume
. How would he explain that to Katy? Millie screwed her face up, a telltale sign that she was about to wail. Sure enough, she opened her mouth, her face turned red and she let out a piercing scream.

‘Oh, it’s okay, baby,’ said Abby, bouncing her furiously up and down, much to Millie’s distress. ‘It’s okay now, I’m here.’ Millie clearly didn’t agree and wailed even louder. Ben stepped forward to take the child from her.

‘No,’ shouted Abby above the din. ‘It’s okay, I’ll take care of her. You sit down, Ben.’

It was clear that the perfume fog surrounding Abby and Millie was going to do nothing to soothe her, so Ben reached out just as Charlene stepped between the two of them, sweeping Millie out of Abby’s arms.

‘You don’t do it like that, you idiot,’ said Charlene. ‘Put her on your shoulder like this. Are you watching, Ben? This is how you do it. They like being on shoulders, you see. Means they can see stuff.’

There were no signs that being able to see stuff was having a calming influence on Millie.

‘Let me have a go, Charlene,’ Ben urged. ‘It’s not working, is it?’

‘No,’ said Charlene. ‘Like Abby said, we are here to help. This is what you do, put the baby on your shoulder. She’ll calm down in a minute, honestly.’

‘Charlene,’ came a stern voice from behind Ben. ‘Give Millie to me now.’

Ben turned to look at Alison. She was holding her arms out with an empty sling across her waist. George and Rebecca were laid out on a neatly
folded blanket next to her, clutching teething toys, cooing and dribbling gently. Alison lifted Millie off Charlene’s shoulder and laid her in the sling, and as if someone had sprinkled her with contentment dust, she went quiet immediately. Alison reached over to her bag, pulled out a teething ring and handed it to her.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said to Ben. ‘Freshly sterilised this morning. Speaking of which, Charlene said you were struggling with your machine. Do you want to show me where it is? Charlene and Abby can be in charge in here, but I will be leaving the door open to keep an eye on you,’ she said, as though issuing a warning. ‘Kitchen?’ she demanded, turning to Ben.

He stood with his mouth open before allowing Alison to steer him around and lead him out the door. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the steriliser with her whilst Millie contentedly nestled in the sling. He could hear the dulcet tones of Jeremy Kyle drifting out of the living room as Charlene and Abby made themselves at home.

‘So,’ said Alison, pulling the machine towards her. ‘Let’s take a look, shall we?’

‘No, it’s okay,’ said Ben, still in a daze. ‘I worked it out. I found a video on YouTube.’ He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Alison was in his kitchen. The real Alison. Matthew’s wife. Matthew and Alison, whom he and Katy had vowed never to see again.

‘YouTube?’ Alison said, turning to him in amazement.

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Melissa from Minnesota was extremely helpful.’

‘I very much doubt it,’ laughed Alison, shaking her head. ‘YouTube is hardly where you should be seeking childcare advice.’

‘I know, but I was desperate,’ he said.

‘But didn’t Katy show you how to do all this stuff before she went back to work? I mean, it’s all very well wanting to go back to your career and have it all, but not telling you what to do, what her routines are?’

‘Routines?’ asked Ben

‘You know, how she schedules. When does she feed Millie, what time does she go to sleep, what time do you wake her up?’

‘Wake her up?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why on earth would we ever wake her up?’

‘If she sleeps too long.’

Ben blew his cheeks out. Alison was even weirder than he remembered. Ben and Katy seemed to spend most of their lives praying that Millie would sleep too long. It never happened.

‘But babies can’t sleep too long. It’s impossible.’

Alison shook her head sadly at him.

‘Oh dear,’ was all she said.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You haven’t got Millie into any kind of routine, have you?’

‘She’s a baby! Babies don’t do routines.’

‘What’s the longest length of time that Millie sleeps?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ben gulped, starting to panic again. ‘Depends on what time she goes down at night. If we manage to get her to sleep by half past eight—’

‘Half past eight!’ gasped Alison.

‘What?’ asked Ben. ‘What does that mean? Is that too early? Too late? See what I mean? Every time I say something about Millie someone looks at me like that. Like I’m an idiot who should not be in charge of a baby. Which of course I am.’

‘George and Rebecca are in their cots at seven sharp and sleep right through until six a.m.,’ Alison announced. ‘Though to be fair, they are quite advanced for their age.’

Never had a piece of information disturbed him so much.

‘They sleep through the night? Are you drugging them?’

She gave a self-satisfied smile.

‘Routine, routine, routine,’ she said, slamming her hand down on the counter top each time she said it. ‘Perhaps it’s my nature or perhaps it’s having twins, but George and Rebecca have been put into a routine since the day they were born. Scheduled sleep times, scheduled play times, scheduled food times, scheduled individual massages, scheduled social time. Their lives are run like clockwork. It’s the only way.’

‘But how?’ muttered Ben in total awe.

‘You just have to be disciplined. I know when I leave here at eleven fifteen that we will get home, have lunch, have some scheduled kicking time, then bed for two hours’ sleep when I can put my feet up and relax unless I have washing scheduled.’

‘Two hours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Every day?’

‘Yes. Did Katy not do any of this?’

‘I’m pretty sure she didn’t. I think she just winged it,’ Ben replied.

‘No wonder she wanted to go back to work,’ said Alison. ‘Left you to pick up the pieces.’

‘No,’ said Ben firmly. ‘It wasn’t like that, really. I asked to do it. I wanted to contribute to the family. I thought I could do it. But it’s just a lot harder than I realised.’ He looked away in shame. He couldn’t believe looking after a baby had left him a broken man.

‘Come over to our house tomorrow and I’ll tell you what to do. Set you up with a schedule. It’ll take a while, but once you’ve got into it, it will make your life so much easier, I promise.’

Ben snapped his head up.

‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘I can’t do that.’

Alison reached out and put a very soft and smooth hand over his.

‘I know it will be really hard walking into our beautiful home again, but there really is no need to be intimidated.’

‘No, no, it’s not that,’ protested Ben, thinking fast.

‘I can help you,’ said Alison.

But you don’t know what I know
screamed through his head. He and Katy had somehow got to a good place regarding her indiscretion with Matthew. It was in the past and they’d moved on.

‘I really don’t see what choice you have, actually,’ said Alison matter-of-factly. ‘Charlene said you were on the brink of giving up and telling Katy you couldn’t cope. Do you really want to have to do that?’

Ben looked at her. He knew she was right. He’d dug himself a right hole telling Katy he was capable, when he clearly wasn’t. But having Alison help him? He couldn’t explain that one to Katy.

‘You don’t have to tell Katy if you don’t want to,’ said Alison, as though reading his mind. ‘If you’re too embarrassed to admit you need support.’

He looked down at Millie, who had fallen asleep in Alison’s sling. The flat was the calmest it had been in a long time despite the fact there were four babies in residence. Perhaps if he just went over once. Gleaned everything he could from Alison. Matthew would be at work and Katy would be none the wiser. It might make all the difference. Katy would be so impressed.

‘If you come at nine-thirty,’ said Alison, ‘Rebecca and George will be asleep and I can take you through what I do properly. Then Millie can socialise with them for half an hour after they wake up. It will be good for her.’

‘And you won’t tell Matthew?’ he said eventually.

‘I don’t keep secrets from my husband,’ replied Alison firmly.

He certainly keeps them from you
, he thought, trying hard not to pull a face.

‘If it bothers you that much, I won’t tell him it’s you,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll tell him I’m helping a stay-at-home dad but won’t give him your name.’

Bloody hell
, thought Ben. He’d only been back in Alison’s company for less than an hour and already the lies were building up.

‘Here,’ she said, carefully lifting the sling over her head and hooking it over Ben’s shoulder without waking Millie. ‘You can give it back when you come over tomorrow. I’ve got to go now so we can get home before George and Rebecca get tired and fall asleep in the car. You remember where we live, don’t you?’

Of course I remember
, he thought, not daring to move, as Millie looked so content. That was where he’d unearthed the first lie Katy had told him about Matthew.

Chapter Fourteen

‘The M1 was hell,’ said Matthew as he strode into the kitchen, dumping a carrier bag on the spotless granite work surface with a loud clanking sound.

‘Bugger,’ he uttered, opening it up quickly to check he hadn’t broken the contents. He pulled out a bottle of red wine then strode over to the sink to hide the unbranded carrier in amongst the rest of the crinkly plastic neatly jammed into a bag collector in the cupboard below. Heaven forbid he’d have to admit to Alison he’d bought wine from a
corner shop
!

There were no lights on in the kitchen apart from the neon strips hidden under the overhead cupboards and the spotlights that shone onto carefully staged artifacts which looked like they belonged in a museum rather than a functioning kitchen. Matthew flicked some switches, instantly shifting the atmosphere away from subtle and moody to brain surgery performance level. Having found a glass, he poured himself a generous slug before standing under a blaze of electric light and taking a huge gulp – which was how Alison found him when she bustled into the kitchen.

‘Oh Matthew,’ she sighed.

‘What?’ he shrugged, mentally going through a list of what could have caused such a reception. Too many lights on, drinking alone, drinking midweek, tabloid newspaper strewn on the counter, standing up, not sitting down, female intuition that could tell the dodgy provenance of his wine, five minutes past the time he said he’d be back, even though he’d rung ahead to say he was going to be late . . . the list could in fact be endless. He held his breath, waiting to see which she would pick.

‘What is the point of Auntie Brenda buying us those everyday
red
wine glasses for Christmas if you insist on using the everyday
white
wine glasses? Here, give it to me,’ she said, holding her hand out and taking the glass from him. She turned and located a slightly different shaped glass and poured Matthew’s wine into it.

‘It’s such a waste if you don’t use them,’ she said, handing it back to him before putting the wrong glass into the top of the dishwasher.

Matthew took another large gulp before slumping down on a dining chair behind him and loosening his tie.

‘It’s been a hell of a day,’ he said.

‘I know,’ replied Alison. ‘I have no idea where the time went.’

‘Simon dumped a presentation on me forty minutes before a potential new client was due to arrive. Forty minutes!’

‘George woke up in a bit of an odd mood. He didn’t latch on like he usually does. I do wonder if he might be coming down with something.’