Forget Me Not by Lewis Luana

Author:Lewis, Luana [Lewis, Luana]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781448169061
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2015-11-04T16:00:00+00:00

Vivien

Seven years ago

Alexandra is crying again. I lie still, as though I’m asleep, but my eyes are wide open. The cot is on Ben’s side of the bed. She has passed her one-year milestone, yet still sleeps in our bedroom.

Ben sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed and scoops her up into his arms. He takes her out of the room, so as not to disturb me. Ben doesn’t mind getting up in the middle of the night, who knows how often. I’ve lost count of the times Alexandra wakes us. I hear him whispering to her, soothing her as he leaves our bedroom. Lexi, he calls her.

Ben never complains about these disturbances in the night. I’ve begun to suspect he might even welcome them; he says he doesn’t get to see his daughter enough during the day. I don’t understand how he manages the night-wakings and then the early-morning start and yet is more contented than I’ve ever known him to be. Ben really is a family man.

I pull the duvet up around my face. I’m cold, now that he’s left me.

Alexandra is no trouble during the day. She’s a quiet, contented sort of baby, and doesn’t cry much. She takes the bottle when I offer it to her, and she looks up at me, trying to fix on my eyes as she drinks. I try hard not to look away, but it’s a strange sensation, holding her and being stared at. I always feel as though my daughter is accusing me of something. I sometimes feel angry with her, for no reason. And sometimes, I have to force myself to pick her up. I have to remind myself to smile at her. Babies need those things: physical affection and smiley faces.

She is so needy and so small, and yet so powerful and all-consuming. Ben barely looks at me when he comes through the door. He wants me less often; what he really craves is the feel of his daughter against his chest. I don’t know any more whether the child is my saviour or my undoing. And yet I am Alexandra’s mother and that makes me queen of Ben’s kingdom. He will never leave me now.

My thoughts are always dark, paranoid and irrational in the early hours of the morning. I can’t get back to sleep. There is no sign of Ben or of the baby. I get up and walk, silently, out of the bedroom and down the stairs, towards the light in the nursery. Ben has his back to me as he stands at the changing table. Bare-chested and barefoot, he leans over her. Alexandra never cries when her father changes her.

‘That’s a wet nappy,’ he says. ‘What have you been drinking today?’ Alexandra gurgles.

‘What strong legs you have!’ Ben says. He holds her with one hand, slides the nappy out from under her, unfolds a new one, and parcels her up again. He and the baby don’t take their eyes off each other.

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