A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon [40]
They fell asleep and were woken at four by Jacob crying, “Mummy, Mummy, Mummy…”
Ray started to get out of bed but she insisted on going.
When she got to his room Jacob was still half asleep, trying to curl away from a big orange diarrhea stain in the center of the bed.
“Come here, little squirrel.” She lifted him to his feet and his sleepy head flopped against her shoulder.
“It’s all…all sort of…It’s wet.”
“I know. I know.” She carefully peeled off his pajama trousers, rolling them up so that the mess was on the inside then throwing them into the hallway. “Let’s clean you up, Baby Biscuits.” She grabbed a nappy bag and a fresh nappy and pack of wet wipes from the drawer and gently cleaned his bottom.
She put the fresh nappy on, extracted a fresh pair of pajama trousers from the basket and guided his clumsy feet into the legs. “There. That feels better, doesn’t it.”
She flicked the Winnie the Pooh duvet over to check that it was clean, then bundled it onto the carpet. “You lie down for a second while I sort the bed out.”
Jacob cried as she lowered him to the floor. “Don’t want to…let me…” But when she laid his head on the duvet, his thumb slipped into his mouth and his eyes closed again.
She tied the nappy bag and threw it into the bin. She stripped the bed, threw the dirty sheets into the hallway and turned the mattress over. She grabbed a new set of sheets from the cupboard and pressed them to her face. God, it was lovely, the furriness of thick, worn cotton and the scent of washing powder. She made the bed, tucking the edges in tight so that it was smooth and flat.
She plumped the pillow, bent over and hoisted Jacob up.
“My tummy hurts.”
She held him on her lap. “We’ll get you some Calpol in a minute.”
“Pink medicine,” said Jacob.
She wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t get enough of this. Not when he was conscious. Thirty seconds at most. Then it was helicopters and bouncy-bouncy on the sofa. True, it made her proud, seeing him in a circle listening to Bella read a book at nursery, or watching him talk to other children in the playground. But she missed the way he was once a part of her body, the way she could make everything better just by folding herself around him. Even now she could picture him leaving home, the distance opening up already, her baby becoming his own little person.
“I miss my daddy.”
“He’s asleep upstairs.”
“My real daddy,” said Jacob.
She put her hand around his head and kissed his hair. “I miss him too, sometimes.”
“But he’s not coming back.”
“No. He’s not coming back.”
Jacob was crying quietly.
“But I’ll never leave you. You know that, don’t you.” She wiped the snot from his nose with the arm of her T-shirt and rocked him.
She looked up at the Bob the Builder height chart and the sailing boat mobile turning silently in the half dark. Somewhere under the floor a water pipe clanked.
Jacob stopped crying. “Can I have a polar bear drink tomorrow?”
She pushed the hair out of his eyes. “I’m not sure whether you’ll be fit for nursery tomorrow.” His eyes moistened. “But if you are, we’ll get a polar bear drink on the way home, OK?”
“All right.”
“But if you have a polar bear drink, you won’t be able to have any pudding for supper. Is that a deal?”
“That’s a deal.”
“Now, let’s get you some Calpol.”
She laid him down on the clean sheets and got the bottle and the syringe from the bathroom.
“Open wide.”
He was almost asleep now. She squirted the medicine into his mouth, wiped a dribble from his chin with the tip of her finger and licked it clean.
She kissed his cheek. “I have to go back to bed now, little boy.”
But he didn’t want to let go of her hand. And she didn’t want him to let go. She sat watching him sleep for a few minutes, then lay down beside him.
This made up for everything, the tiredness, the tantrums, the fact that she hadn’t read a novel in six months. This was how Ray made her feel.
This was how Ray was meant to make her feel.
She stroked Jacob’s head. He was a million