Life as I Know It (17 page)

Sophie was looking at me strangely.

“What?”

“You’re different,” she said simply. “Before you got struck by the lightning you hated animals. Now you’re being really nice.”

I felt myself blush as if I’d been caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

“You’re lucky I don’t remember I hate animals,” I said with a smile. I made a mental note to be more careful in the way I acted in front of the children. The trouble was, I reminded myself, I didn’t know Lauren at all. All I could do was be myself.

Sophie smiled back, then shivered, holding the rabbit closer to her chest for warmth.

“Come on, she’ll be okay in her hutch now,” I said, standing up. “The sun’s coming out and melting the frost, and there’s loads of straw in there. She can snuggle up with Ginny while we get things sorted out indoors. We’ll come down later to see her again.”

Sophie nodded and put the rabbit back in her hutch before skipping up the garden ahead of me. I watched her feet dancing across the brittle grass and felt something stir in my heart. I was happy for her, of course, I reasoned, but it was something more than that. Could it be that I was experiencing some sort of awakening maternal instinct?

Any ideas I’d had about the joys of motherhood were quickly banished as I walked back into the warmth of the playroom to be assaulted by the most horrible smell.

“Teddy’s pooped in his pants, Teddy’s pooped in his pants!” Toby chanted, in a voice muffled by the fact that his face was hidden inside the collar of his dressing gown. Nicole had her hand clamped over her nose and was pretending to gag.

My gaze rested on Teddy, who was sitting where I’d left him on the beanbag, appearing completely unperturbed by the commotion he had caused. I looked to Sophie for guidance and she shrugged.

“You have to take the nappy off as soon as he wakes up,” she explained. “When it’s on, he thinks he doesn’t need to use the toilet.”

So it was my fault. I ran a hand over my face while I contemplated the awfulness of the task ahead of me. It was almost ten o’clock, I wasn’t even dressed yet, and now I had to deal with this.

“Stay there,” I ordered Teddy. “Don’t move. I’m going to run you a bath.”

While the bath was running, I rummaged in Lauren’s wardrobe for something casual to wear.

“You must have an old pair of jeans or something,” I murmured, searching through the racks of glamorous designer clothing despairingly. “What do you wear for doing jobs like this, for heaven’s sake?”

A movement behind me made me jump. I turned around to find Grant standing in the doorway.

“Talking to yourself?” he commented dryly.

I felt myself blush again. I would have to be more careful or I’d wake up one morning and find myself in that padded cell.

“You can talk,” I countered. “After the state you were in last night.”

He had the decency to look abashed. “I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I think I had a bit too much to drink.”

“You frightened me.”

An anguished look passed across his face and he came toward me, his hands held up as if in apology. “I said I’m sorry. I just want us to be close again. I miss you, Lauren.”

He looked so forlorn that my heart went out to him, but my sense of reason prevailed and I kept the distance between us while giving him what I hoped was a sympathetic smile.

“I’ve got to go turn off the bath, or we’ll have a flood,” I said, walking past him.

He followed me along the landing to the family bathroom and watched while I turned off the faucets in the nick of time and let some of the water out of the drain.

“Have you really lost all your memories, Lauren?”

He was leaning against the frame of the door, contemplating me speculatively. The question startled me, and I felt my mouth drop open slightly.

“You heard what Dr. Shakir said about my temporal lobes being damaged,” I said, straightening up. “It’s hardly something I could make up.”

He eyed me doubtfully. “You muttered something in the hospital about having other memories. And the nurse told me you thought you were someone else when you first woke up.”

“I was confused,” I lied. “Don’t forget I almost died, Grant. Maybe I’d been dreaming or something.” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He was still staring at me speculatively and I began to wonder if he knew something. Had he sensed that I wasn’t really Lauren after all?

“I’ve got to go and fetch Teddy,” I said, ending the discussion. “While I was sleeping in and you were sleeping it off, Teddy stayed too long in his night nappy, and now he’s messed himself. Fine parents we’ve been.”

We were saved further recriminations by the arrival of Sophie, who announced that Teddy was downstairs crying. I left Grant leaning against the bathroom door and hurried downstairs to find Elsie standing over a distressed Teddy.

“Just look at him!” she was saying, her voice raised in indignation. “He’s not fit to be in a nice house like this. Look what he’s done.”

“It’s all right, Elsie, I’ll deal with it.”

The cleaning lady turned to stare at me with disapproval written all over her face, and I realized I still hadn’t found the time to get dressed.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Richardson, but the smell is intolerable. And it’s not just him, either. There’s straw tramped all over the utility room floor, and dirty breakfast bowls dumped in the kitchen…”

“Elsie,” I said in a placating voice. “This is exactly why we need someone as experienced and professional as you. As you know, the nanny has left, and I’ve just come out of hospital. Mr. Richardson isn’t feeling well this morning, either. Now, I’ll deal with Teddy here, if you could help with the other things as best you can. We really appreciate everything you do. You know we simply couldn’t manage without you.”

I watched as Elsie pursed her lips and nodded her head, obviously appeased by the praise.

“I’ll go and start in the kitchen then,” she announced, with one last disgusted glance at Teddy. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Richardson.”

She waddled off and I went at last to deal with Teddy.

“Sshh, don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault. Daddy wasn’t feeling well and I was still asleep. Come on, it’s bath time again, and you can have your favorite ball in there if you like.”

I turned to the others as I led Teddy from the room.

“While I’m getting Teddy cleaned up I want you each to draw a picture of the thing you like most in all the world. I don’t mind if it’s a place or a person, or a toy, but it must be colored in and as neat as you can do it. I’d like to remember what you like best. And then we’ll go out to see the animals and play in the sandbox, okay?”

Sophie and Nicole nodded enthusiastically and went to the toy cupboard, where I assumed they had paper and crayons.

“You too, Toby. I’m sure you’re good at drawing. I’ll be down later to see what you’ve done.”

Cleaning Teddy up was no mean feat, but with the help of almost an entire toilet paper roll and the bath to finish off, he was soon respectable again.

“There,” I said as I finished dressing him. “Does that feel better?”

He nodded and I gave him a hug, despite the fact that he remained rigid and unbending in my arms.

“Will you go downstairs by yourself while I get dressed?” He nodded solemnly.

“And draw me a picture, Teddy. Draw a picture of what you like best in all the world. Your ball, maybe?”

Grant was nowhere to be seen as I scrubbed the lingering smell off my hands, selected an outfit, and dressed quickly. I wondered how Lauren had coped with Teddy or whether she had left it all to the nanny. I began to feel an affinity with the poor woman, whoever she had been. This was certainly parenting at
its most challenging, and I couldn’t say that anything in my own life had prepared me for it.

Standing and surveying Lauren’s reflection in her full-length mirror, I groaned inwardly. It was almost lunchtime, and all I’d managed so far today was to get myself and Teddy dressed. Goodness knew when I was going to find time to make the children any lunch, especially as I felt I should spend quality time with them during their half-term break, rather than leave them watching television while I cooked and cleared away.

I longed suddenly for the simplicity of my other life. Even though Stephen was a demanding boss and I often worked late into the evenings preparing depositions for court or searching out legal documents that could make or break a case, I enjoyed the challenge of the work. And when I went home at the end of the day I could forget all about it for a while and concentrate on my own needs, puttering around the flat, taking Frankie for a walk, or spending what was left of an evening out with Clara and our other friends.

Smoothing the cream linen trousers I’d selected over my hips, I stood rooted before the mirror. It was still a surprise to see Lauren’s reflection looking back at me whenever I caught a glimpse of myself, and I found it hard to resist striking poses and pulling faces just to prove to myself that the image I could see had some correlation to the person I was inside.

As I stared, fascinated, at my still very alien appearance, I thought of my own life and the dwindling group of girlfriends in my other existence. One by one they were marrying or producing babies and, apart from Clara, most of them only came on an evening out now and again. I thought back to our last night out on the town, when only three out of a group of six friends from college and work had made it, and how I’d thought their excuses
of not being able to leave the new baby or get babysitters for their toddlers were a bit lame.

Adjusting the shoulders of the lightweight sweater, I smiled ruefully at myself. I certainly understood something of those ties and obligations now. With four children waiting for me downstairs and a husband who had hardly appeared this morning, I felt almost overwhelmed by what I was starting to understand was a full-blown twenty-four-hour, seven-days-a-week task. This parenting business was totally consuming. The routine of the household never let up. If I wanted to steal a moment to myself, even to have a bath or get dressed, then the children would be bored and get into mischief, the animals would go hungry, and my husband—Lauren’s husband—might feel neglected. Worse still was the knowledge that in the course of a normal day my actions could affect the children for the rest of their lives.

“You can do it,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “You owe it to Lauren.”

I went downstairs to find Teddy crying again.

“What’s the matter with him now?” I asked Sophie.

“He tried to take the coloring pencils,” Nicole answered. “Sophie wouldn’t let him have them.”

“Why not?” I asked, surprised.

“He’s not allowed,” Sophie said sullenly. “You said he makes too much mess.”

“Last time he got felt-tip pen all over the carpet,” Nicole put in. “It took Elsie ages to get it out.”

“For goodness’ sake, this is a playroom, isn’t it?” I asked of no one in particular. I immediately forgot my intention to try to act more like I thought Lauren would and marched over to the toy cupboard, grabbed a handful of pens and a sheet of paper, and set them down in front of Teddy.

“Here, Teddy. Draw me a picture.”

The others looked on disapprovingly as Teddy tentatively took a pen and touched it to the paper. A look of satisfaction crossed his face, and his tongue soon protruded between his lips as he began to concentrate on the line he was making.

I turned to the others. “Are you going to show me your pictures?”

Toby thrust his effort into my hands and I held it up to admire it. He’d drawn a picture of his new sandbox complete with a yellow blob on wheels that I took to be his digger.

“That’s lovely!” I said, ruffling his hair. “Would you like to go down and play with the real thing now?”

He nodded.

“Go and get dressed then, and put on your boots and jacket, then you can go down to the garden and play.”

Toby scampered off and I looked at Nicole’s drawing. She’d made a picture of a creature I assumed was her guinea pig, complete with ginger forelock. It was sitting in front of a box hutch.

“It’s great,” I told her. “I love it. You can go down with Toby and play with Ginny if you want. Don’t forget to hold her how I showed you.”

I turned to look at Sophie’s drawing, expecting to see a black rabbit, but she’d drawn a person instead, with a big heart on the front of a blond-haired figure.

“Who’s this?” I asked.

“It’s you, Mum,” she said. “It’s the you after the lightning strike. The different Mummy.”

I looked over my shoulder to check that Grant wasn’t standing there. This was just the sort of thing that might show him I
was irreparably changed in some way by the accident. I forced a smile. “It’s lovely, Sophie. I really like it. In fact, all the pictures are so good, I think we should put them on the wall.”

Sophie’s eyes grew wide.

“But… it’ll make a mess.”

I was about to say “hang the mess, you are children and this is a playroom,” but I caught myself in time.

“You are absolutely right, Sophie. We won’t put them on the wall itself. I was thinking we could buy a board and pin them up on that.”

She nodded, accepting the compromise.

“Can I go and see Blackie now?”

“Of course. And Sophie…?”

“Yes?”

“What sort of thing do you all like to eat for lunch?”

I remembered the disaster of yesterday’s tea and hoped it would be something simple.

She tilted her head to one side as if weighing me up, and a small smile flickered at the corner of her lips.

“Fries with ketchup—and ice cream,” she said with a grin. “It’s our favorite.”

While I cooked oven fries and found a bottle of ketchup to go with them, I forgot about Teddy and his picture. When I eventually wandered back into the playroom, my mouth must have actually dropped open in astonishment.

Teddy was stretched out on the floor, his picture in front of him. As I looked at the picture from over his shoulder, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. It was a work of art.

Kneeling down beside him, I asked him where he’d gotten the idea for his picture, but he just shrugged and kept drawing.
I watched entranced as he put the finishing touches to it, then sat up and studied it critically, his head to one side.