Page 45 of The Happy Family

THIRTY-ONE

LUNA

Motherhood teaches you many things, but perhaps what it teaches the most is patience. There’s no rushing a baby because they will develop at their own pace and do things in their own time. Being with Jude all day is teaching me to slow down and live life at his pace, which is a welcome break from the relentless pace I was living before. With him, there is no need for urgently covering things up, scrambling around to keep secrets or doing something deadly. It is all about the here and now, just mother and son, sitting on the sofa or the carpet or lying in bed together, listening to one another’s breaths or trying to make each other laugh.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love being a mum.

I love this version of myself.

I love it when I don’t have to do all those other things.

‘You’re so cute,’ I say to Jude as I tap my finger on top of his nose and lose myself in his eyes for the hundredth time this morning. I could happily keep doing this for the rest of the morning, but it is a Saturday and that means we aren’t the only two people in the house. Reid, Arthur and Ruby are with us too, which means there is a lot more noise than there usually is during the week.

I can hear Arthur kicking a football around in the kitchen while his father tells him to stop it. Meanwhile, Ruby is singing along to a song on the radio, the little girl having found her angelic voice again ever since her mother woke up and gave her a sign that life isn’t so bad after all. Meanwhile, as all that commotion goes on, I sit on the sofa with Jude in the living room, content to simply exist in this bubble of bliss.

It’s been a month since all the drama at the hospital. A month since Sadie woke up. A month since I failed to kill her. A month since I killed Gemma and that police escort. A month since I got away with it. In all that time, there have been no repercussions for me. Just plenty of long days with Jude, wondering if the police will ever come calling; and then putting my son to bed at night and realising I seem to be living to see another day.

And so it continues.

I can’t complain.

I don’t deserve what I have, but I am not going to give it up if someone is going to take it from me.

I feel content, and Jude looks like he does too. At least that’s the way until the football comes flying into the room, followed by the energetic Arthur, who is in turn being chased by his dad.

‘Stop kicking that ball around the house!’ Reid cries. ‘If you want to play with it then take it outside and play in the garden.’

‘It’s cold outside,’ Arthur replies. He kicks his ball against the sofa I sit on while Jude stares at his stepbrother with wide, wondering eyes.

‘Be careful,’ I say, hoping Arthur pays attention to me, but if he’s not listening to his father, he probably won’t listen to me. Sure enough, he does not, and a second later, the ball bounces up and knocks over my cup of coffee, spilling the hot liquid on the sofa, perilously close to where Jude lies on my lap.

‘Hey!’ I cry out, lifting Jude up in case he gets splashed and burned, but thankfully, he does not.

‘Right, that’s it. Go to your room!’ Reid cries, picking up Arthur’s football before pointing to the way that he wants his son to use to get to his bedroom.

‘But it was an accident,’ Arthur moans, not that such an explanation garners him much sympathy from the adults in the room and, a moment later, he begrudgingly follows orders and trudges away to his bedroom.

‘I’m sorry about that. I’ll get that cleaned up,’ Reid says in reference to the coffee stain on the sofa.

‘No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left my drink lying around.’

‘It’s not your fault and you know it,’ Reid replies, and we share a look before we shake our heads and smile.

‘Weekends, hey,’ I say, and Reid laughs.

‘Weekends,’ he repeats, the pair of us acknowledging this, the most testing time of the week for us as we try to navigate the two days when all three children are cooped up under our roof without any school for respite.

‘I’ll try and take Arthur and Ruby out this afternoon,’ Reid says after grabbing a cloth and using it to dab at the stained sofa. ‘Give you and Jude some peace and quiet.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ I say.

‘It’ll do them good to get out of the house.’

‘Maybe we could all go somewhere then,’ I suggest, and Reid shrugs, happy to go along with that idea. I am aware that whatever we decide to do, having a young baby with us will make it harder to do it, but we have to try and live our lives. We can’t just stay home all the time with Jude, even if it feels easier in the moment.

Before we can make any plans, Reid’s phone rings.

‘Hello?’ he says, answering it while still attempting to wipe up the spilt coffee.