And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [43]
“She’s sweet,” said Les. “She looks like you.”
I pretended to study Shinola’s face as though I’d never looked at it before, when really it was just about all I did look at any more.
“You think so? I think she’s got your nose.”
Les laughed. “She hasn’t got anybody’s nose. She’s got her own.”
He stood there, nodding and grinning, his eyes on Shinola as if he thought she was a letter-bomb.
“So,” I said. “Do you want some tea? Tell me all about your holiday.”
Les threw himself on to the sofa beside a box of disposable nappies. The sofa honked. Startled, he reached behind him and removed a blue rubber duck.
“I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when she can walk,” I said. “Her stuff gets everywhere as it is.”
Les’s nose twitched. “She hasn’t done something, has she? It smells funny in here.”
“Of course not.” There was no way I was going to start changing nappies then. It was the first time we’d been together in weeks. I wanted Les to think of me as his sex goddess, not the girl with the poo-smeared cotton ball in her hand. “Why don’t I put the kettle on while you tell me about your holiday?”
Les leaned back with a sigh. “Don’t let me bang on too long,” he said. “I’m becoming a bit of a Greece bore.” He laughed. “You’re lucky I forgot my snaps.”
Shinola’d only been whimpering, you know, so we wouldn’t forget she was there. But as soon as Les started to talk about his holiday, she started to cry for real.
“Shhh, shhh…” I whispered. “Daddy’s trying to tell us something.”
“It was the most brilliant time I’ve ever had,” Les was saying. He raised his voice to be heard over Shinola. “I went swimming every day. And I went fishing a couple of times and even scuba-diving. I really—”
I turned from the sink, holding the baby with one hand and the kettle with the other. “What?” I shouted. “Swimming, fishing and what?”
“Scuba-diving!” roared Les. “I really liked the scuba-diving. But it’s not as easy as you think.”
I’d never thought about scuba-diving at all and I wasn’t about to start just then. Les yammered on about scuba-diving and all the things you have to learn so you don’t kill yourself or anything, but there was no way I could really hear him. Not with trying to get the tea things out and Shinola shrieking in my ear. I didn’t want to interrupt him every three words to say “What?” Plus, I didn’t really care. He might as well have been talking about star surfing, it seemed so foreign and far away.
I came back into the living-room while he was going on about the fishing. He hadn’t caught anything.
“What a shame,” I said. “Still, you got a good tan.”
Les beamed. “And no sunburn. Usually I burn badly, but this time my nose didn’t even peel.”
I moved the nappies and put Shinola on the sofa beside him to bond. She’d settled down a bit once the tea was made, but as soon as she hit the couch she started up again.
Les jumped to his feet. “Christ!” He slapped his forehead. “Your surprise! How could I forget?”
It was a T-shirt that said “Winner of the Wet T-shirt Competition, Sunnytime Holidays” and then something in what I reckoned must be Greek. At least it was Greek to me.
“Try it on,” shouted Les.
“But the tea—”
He winked. “The tea can wait.” He winked again. “You have to wear it without a bra.”
I had to go in the kitchen to take my bra off because people could see into the living-room from the street. Les came after me.
I stuck out my chest. “How does it look?”
Les grinned. “It looks better when it’s wet, but it looks pretty good.”
I looked down. “They’re not so big any more.”
“They’re big enough for me,” said Les.
The way he said it made me feel all tingly.
Les took a step towards me.
I took a step towards him.
Our lips touched.
Shinola really started to scream.
Les jumped back as though my mouth was hot.
“Christ,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going. I can’t be late. Not after being on holiday.”
I tried to hide my disappointment. “But we haven