Jo placed the glass on the table.
‘Thanks,’ said Merriman. ‘He looks a cheerful little chap.’
‘He is in the daytime,’ said Jo. ‘The hair and claws sprout after dark.’
Merriman offered the briefest of smiles. ‘And how are you coping with the lack of sleep?’
‘Fine, actually,’ Jo lied. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d got more than two straight hours, and the night before had been hell; it had taken three strong coffees that morning to rouse her to anything like a functioning mind, and a ton of foundation to take away the zombie pallor. Theo had seemed like a dream sleeper at first, but in the last month the nights had become progressively more fractured by his wakefulness. There seemed no cause. Even when he was fed, dry and the room was a perfect temperature, he still woke frequently and it took forty-five minutes of rocking and singing to help him settle once more.
She threw a glance at the clock, and Merriman caught it.
‘Don’t worry. We won’t keep you long.’
‘It’s not a problem,’ said Jo. ‘I just have to get to work by eleven.’
Pritchard looked surprised. ‘Goodness. You’re going back already? You’re a super-woman.’
Again, perhaps the hint of criticism there. ‘Thames Valley maternity pay isn’t great,’ Jo explained. It was a fib – they were rather generous – and Pritchard’s eyebrow rose sceptically. Working in the public sector, Jo reasoned, she’d likely know such things.
Merriman leant across, and Jo flinched as her visitor laid a hand on her knee. ‘I know it’s hard to juggle things,’ she said. ‘Have you found a nursery?’
‘Yes,’ said Jo. ‘Little Steps. They’ve got a good survival rate.’
Stop it, Jo. You’re not helping.
‘Parents nearby?’ asked Pritchard from the window. Jo wondered if she’d had her sense of humour surgically removed, or if she’d left it in her crypt at home.
‘Sadly my mum opted to pop her clogs rather than babysit,’ said Jo.
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ said Pritchard, with a purse of her lips.
‘Don’t be – she wasn’t particularly happy. In a home, you know. We weren’t that close.’
Pritchard nodded, and moved across to the sofa. She opened her own bag and took out an ominous black file.
Jo knew how she came across when she talked about her mother. It was true what she’d said though. There’d not been much affection even before her mum went into Evergreen Lodge, and by the end there wasn’t much of her mum there at all to love anyway. Jo hadn’t even wanted to tell her about the surprise pregnancy – it would have involved too many awkward questions about the identity of the father. Plus, she really didn’t feel she needed any advice on mothering at the time, especially from the woman who’d made her own childhood so miserable.
In the end, the decision to tell her mum or not was taken out of her hands. The physical changes to her own body, undeniable to anyone else, had coincided with her mum’s sudden decline at the home, sleeping for longer and longer periods, barely eating, then eventually, on a Monday afternoon, not waking up at all. Paul, Jo’s brother, had handled the arrangements, and she had been one of just seven at the Crematorium, her hips killing her as she waddled up to the lectern to read some cloyingly sentimental Victorian verse.
‘How’s feeding going?’ asked Pritchard. ‘Bottle or breast?’
‘Bottle,’ said Jo. ‘I’d wanted to breastfeed, but there were medical issues. He’s taken to solids though – loves pears!’
God, I sound deranged!
Pritchard wrote a few more words, then looked up. Her eyes moved around the room before settling on Theo. She smiled like an afterthought.
‘And healing up well, I see?’
Jo tensed, internally at least. It hadn’t taken long to get the pleasantries out of the way. The bruise across Theo’s right cheekbone was a sickly yellow now. If only the memories that led to it would fade as quickly.
‘I really don’t think it bothers him at all,’ said Jo.
‘Probably not,’ said Pritchard. ‘Must have been frightening for you both though.’
A moment’s silence. Jo heard the distinct sound of the kitchen clock.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
‘Women drivers, eh?’ she said at last.
‘What’s that?’ said Pritchard.
‘It was a woman who crashed into us. Silly cow was on her phone.’
‘Us?’ said Pritchard. ‘My understanding was that you weren’t in the car.’
This time, there was no accusation in the tone, but there didn’t need to be. Facts were facts. ‘Well, no,’ said Jo. ‘You know, it was just bad luck.’
‘I understand,’ said Pritchard, before returning to her notes.
‘You don’t need to write it down,’ said Jo. ‘I’ve already been over it twice at the hospital, and with the police.’
‘We keep our own records,’ said Pritchard, as she continued, infuriatingly, to scribble her notes. ‘It’s just a formality.’
Jo’s throat felt tight, just from the memory.
‘He’s fine,’ Jo insisted to the prim woman on her sofa.
‘It does seem that way, yes,’ said Pritchard.
‘No,’ said Jo. ‘It is that way. The matter is closed.’
Merriman’s mouth moved as if she was about to speak, but the older woman got there first.
‘This is just a routine visit,’ she said.
‘Really?’ said Jo. ‘In the past, it’s just been Liz.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ said Pritchard.
‘I’m not worried,’ said Jo, shaking her head. But as she spoke she felt a small tremble of her lip betraying her. She could almost imagine how she was coming across. Defensive, unstable, neurotic. She was stuck in a downward spiral, drowning. What scared her most was that, though she could see the impression she was giving off, she felt powerless to stop it. She felt herself welling up, and clenched her jaw to stem the flow.
‘Josie, it’s okay,’ said Merriman. She reached out again to touch Jo’s leg, but this time Jo drew back.
Tick. Tock.
She took a deep breath, trying to regain some equilibrium. Then she leant down, unclipping Theo from the bouncer and holding him to her chest. ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she said. ‘We’re fine, as you can see.’
Merriman stood, as if ready to leave, but Pritchard remained seated. ‘Is it okay if we go over a few more things, Jo?’ she asked.
‘I’m afraid I don’t have time,’ said Jo. ‘You were late, you see?’
Merriman, to her credit, looked like she wanted to be out of there fast. After a couple of awkward seconds, Pritchard nodded too. ‘If you need us, you know how to get in touch.’
The only thing I need is for you to get out of my fucking house.
‘We can show ourselves out,’ said Merriman softly.
Jo watched them go, then followed to the hallway. Neither of them spoke to each other, and the older woman led the way out of the front door. Merriman paused a moment, looking back to Jo. ‘You’re doing a great job,’ she said. ‘Hope the return to work goes well.’