Love Over Scotland - Alexander Hanchett Smith [124]
Matthew said nothing. It was all so predictable. Pat reached out and took his hand. “I’m rather keen on Babs,”
she said.
Matthew remained quite immobile. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. His mouth felt dry.
“Only joking,” said Pat. “But the point is this, Matthew. I know that you want to find somebody. I know that you want to find a girlfriend. But you don’t seem to be able to do it, do you?”
Matthew looked down at his feet. He said nothing.
“Well, why don’t you let me help you?” said Pat quietly. “Let me help you find somebody.”
83. Mothercraft
With Bertie away in Paris, Irene felt at something of a loose end. She had enjoyed her recent visit to Dr Fairbairn, and they had agreed to meet again for coffee later that week. She felt slightly guilty about this, because she had not mentioned to Stuart that she was seeing the psychotherapist in this way, but on subsequent reflection she concluded that it was perfectly appropriate for the two of them to meet, on the grounds that Bertie almost always cropped up in their conversation. Her meetings with Dr Fairbairn could therefore be justified as directly related to the therapy that Bertie so clearly needed. And Bertie really did need therapy – at least in his mother’s view. The original incident which triggered the first visit to Dr Fairbairn – Bertie’s setting fire to his father’s copy of The Guardian (while he was reading it) – had not been followed by any acts of quite so dramatic a nature. But even if that was so, it was obvious that Bertie was still puzzled by life and uncertain about himself and who he was. And there was also an outstanding question about his dreams. Bertie had vivid dreams, and it was 260 Mothercraft
not uncommon for Irene to go into his bedroom early in the morning and find Bertie lying in his little bed with a puzzled frown on his face. That, thought Irene, was an indication of a confusing or threatening dream.
If she could visit Dr Fairbairn, then there was at least something to take her mind off her situation. And that situation was this: she was pregnant, she had very little to do, and she found the behaviour of her husband increasingly irritating. The only salience in this otherwise dull existence was the Bertie Project, and for a large part of the day Bertie was away at school or, as now, in Paris.
But then there arose an interesting possibility. Irene’s first pregnancy had gone very smoothly and uneventfully. She had felt very little discomfort. There had been virtually no nausea and she had experienced no cravings of the sort that many women feel in pregnancy. So in her case there had been no furtive snacking on chocolate bars, nor gnawing on raw artichokes, nor anything of that sort. Irene had simply sailed through the whole process and, more or less exactly on the day predicted by her doctor, given birth to Bertie in the Simpson Maternity Unit.
Of course it had been an enhanced pregnancy. She had read of the importance of playing music to the baby in utero, and had placed headphones against her stomach each afternoon while resting and played Mozart through them. She was convinced that Bertie had responded, as he had kicked vigorously each time she turned up the volume of ‘ Soave sia il vento’
from Così fan Tutte, and, indeed, after his birth whenever this piece of music was played a strange expression would come over Bertie’s face.
There were other enhancements. Irene had changed her diet during pregnancy and had embarked on courses of vitamin pills and nutritional supplements that would ensure good brain development. Although she had previously scorned what she had considered to be the old-wives’ tale that fish was good for the brain, she had been won round by recent scientific evidence to this precise effect and had consequently eaten a great deal of fish in the later months. There had also been an intensive beet- Mothercraft 261
root programme in the final weeks before Bertie’s birth, and Stuart had remarked on the fact that Bertie as a very young baby had a fairly strong beetroot