Second Chance - Jane Green [3]
Last Sunday she had just managed to fall back into a deep sleep when Daisy came in, clad in mismatched socks, her brother’s Spiderman pyjamas, and Holly’s favourite cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck. Daisy demanded Weetabix, and Holly stumbled out of bed shooting daggers at Marcus, who, she was convinced, was merely pretending to be fast asleep.
And last night again, she was up all night. She lay in bed, her eyes closed, trying to ignore the occasional snore or grunt from her husband, too deep in sleep to notice her. Usually when his snoring becomes too irritating to bear, even though she is wide awake and not even pretending to be attempting to get back to sleep, she will shove him over from his position lying on his back. ‘Snoring,’ she will hiss, suppressing the urge to prod him hard enough to push him right out of the bed.
Holly turned on the light last night, waiting as her husband stirred, then rolled over again, still sleeping. She gathered up a magazine from the pile on the floor next to her bed, resigning herself to yet another of those long, long nights, those nights that render her almost senseless in the mornings.
This morning, a zombie in oversized men’s pyjamas and moccasin slippers, Holly just about managed to get the children up and dressed. ‘Don’t start,’ she said warningly to Oliver, who is never at his best in the mornings, and particularly now that his four-year-old sister has discovered exactly which of his buttons to push to start the tears falling, and with huge enjoyment has incorporated it into her daily morning routine.
The au pair stumbled down at the end of breakfast, and Holly smiled gratefully as Frauke bent down to get the children buttoned up, slapping some ham and cheese on pumpernickel bread for herself and holding it in her teeth as she took Daisy and Oliver by the hand.
‘I’m not working today,’ Holly said. ‘But I’m exhausted. Another bad night. Would you mind organizing a playdate or something this afternoon? I’m just desperate to sleep. Is that okay?’
‘Yes,’ Frauke nodded, with her stern morning face – the result of having gone out last night with six other au pairs and staying up until much too late drinking Starbucks. ‘I will phone Luciana, although the last time I tried to see her she was thirty-six minutes late, which was not good. But I will try again. Don’t worry, Holly. I will keep the children out of the house today. Perhaps a museum.’
Holly sighed with satisfaction. She finds herself describing Frauke to friends as ‘my grown-up daughter from my first marriage’. Her other friends complain about their au pairs, but Holly feels constantly and consistently thankful that Frauke has come into her life. She is organized, strict, loving and happy. When Marcus goes to work and it is just Holly and Frauke alone with the kids, the house always feels lighter, happier, the energy changing entirely.
So now, awake again at 11 a.m., Holly gets up and makes herself a cup of tea, loving how quiet the house is in the middle of the day. This is the house she and Marcus lived in together well before the children were born. It is the house she bought expecting to fill it with children and animals, neighbours and friends popping in at all hours of the day and night. A house we can grow into, she thought. A house that will truly be a home.
Holly’s mother was an interior decorator, and every house Holly had lived in as a child had been a project. As soon as the project