What were you thinking? Mike snorted. I didnt lie to you back then, did I? I told you I dont like kids!
Emily hiccuped:
Mike, how can you not love your own son? Your own flesh and blood? You never even call him by his name Whats this that you keep muttering about him?!
Charlie, a chubby oneyearold with oatmeal smeared across his mouth, let his rattle slip from his hands.
The baby froze for a heartbeat, gulped a big breath and let out a wail so shrill it made Emilys ears ring. She bolted to the kitchen chair, scooped the infant into her arms and shot a glance at her husband.
Mike continued his breakfast with utter calm.
Its all right, its all right, little one, youve fallen, youve fallen, Emily cooed. Dad will lift you up. Mike, could you pass it, please? Its rolled up to your foot.
Mike lowered his gaze. A yellow giraffe plush lay a centimetre from his shoe, snug in a houseslip. He nudged the toy aside with his toe and buttered the toast.
Mike! Emily snapped. Why are you kicking? Is it hard to bend down?
Mike rose without a word, walked to the espresso machine, pressed the brew button, waited for the black stream to fill his mug, and finally turned to his wife.
Im late, love. I have a meeting in forty minutes and I havent even had breakfast yet.
Morning rush, traffic everywhere. Grab the rattle yourself! he muttered. And I dont want to get near the baby my shirts light, I cant be stained.
What does the shirt have to do with it? The boys wailing, and you act as if you dont care
He screams twentyfour hours a day, Mike replied calmly. Its his favourite pastime giving me a nervous breakdown. Right, Im off.
He planted a quick kiss on Emilys cheek and dodged the sticky little hands.
Byebye! Charlie babbled, his toothless grin stretching wide.
Mike didnt even glance his way.
See you later, he called as he bolted out of the kitchen.
A few minutes later the front door slammed shut. Emily flopped onto the sofa and burst into sobs. Why was he treating her like this? What had she done wrong? And what had the son done to his father?
Sensing his mothers mood, Charlie fell silent and began smearing the remains of his porridge across the table.
Emily, wiping through her tears, tried to pull herself together. She didnt need another episode of the son being upset.
A flash of her weddingday conversation with Mike resurfaced: right after the ceremony he had said,
Emily, to be honest, I dont like children. Any children, really. They make me nervous the noise, the mess, the endless whining Why bother? Lets just skip the whole baby thing.
She had laughed it off and waved it away:
Oh, come off it, Mike. All men say that until they actually have a little one in their arms. Instinct will kick in youll see.
No instinct woke up. He truly hated his own child.
***
By lunchtime Emilys parents arrived. Evelyn Parker, the mother, swooped into the flat first, followed by her husband Stanley Parker, lugging a box of new building blocks.
Wheres our little king? Wheres our little boss? Stanley boomed from the doorway. Come on, go see Granddad!
Charlie squealed with joy, and for the next two hours the house was pure bliss.
Emily finally managed to sit on the sofa with a cup of tea, watching her father assemble towers while her mother spoonfed Charlie fruit puree and sang goofy rhymes.
Emily, you look pale, her mother noted. Mike was late again yesterday?
No, he was on time, Emily replied, looking away. Im just tired.
Evelyn pursed her lips. Shed seen everything. Shed noticed that there wasnt a single family photo with the child, apart from the discharge pictures where Mike looked like a hostage. She knew her soninlaw never asked about teeth or vaccinations he never showed any interest in his own son. Emily had complained about this before.
Does he ever get near him? Stanley asked quietly.
Dad, dont start this. He works, hes exhausted.
Work! Stanley snorted. I was on two jobs when you and your brother were growing up. And you think I wouldnt go to his cot? I used to stand nightwatch so Mum could get some sleep! And this bloke.
Stanley, hush, Evelyn hissed. Emily, maybe you should talk to him? Hes growing; a fathers example matters.
Ive told you a hundred times, Mum.
Emily wrapped her arms around herself, embarrassed to her parents for her husbands behaviour, and ashamed that shed chosen such a poor father for her son.
And what does he say? Evelyn asked.
Let him grow. When hes a proper man you can talk to him. Until then its your responsibility.
Only mine?! her mother almost dropped the towel. Did you even help create him, or was he just an afterthought?
That evening, after the parents left, Emilys mood soured again. Mike would be home soon, dinner needed to be ready, toys had to be tidied so he wouldnt step on them and start screaming.
Mike came back at eight.
Hey, he tossed his keys into the bowl. Anything to eat? Hungry as a wolf.
The meatloafs are in the oven, salad on the table, Emily called from the hallway, drying her hands. Charlie said two new words today: baba and give.
Brilliant, Mike replied, shrugging off his jacket. I hope give isnt about my salary, cause Im already bleeding money on it.
He laughed at his own joke, headed to the bedroom to change. Emily stood frozen.
It wasnt rudeness; it was outright indifference to the only heir. Whether the son said a word or barked, the reaction would have been the same.
***
Charlies teeth were throbbing. He whined from dawn till midnight, keeping the whole family awake. Emily cradled him, rubbed his gums with gel, turned on cartoons nothing helped.
Mike had the day off. He was in the living room with his laptop, trying to watch a series with noisecancelling headphones, but the babys cries pierced through.
Around two oclock Emily tried to put Charlie down for his afternoon nap her only chance to shower, rest, and have a moment of quiet.
Charlie fought back, arched like a bow, flung his pacifier and screamed so loudly the chandelier trembled.
The bedroom door burst open Mike stood in the doorway.
Emily, how long can this go on?! he roared. Ive been listening to this concert for four hours! My heads splitting!
Charlie, frightened by the shout, erupted into a hysterical wail, and Emily snapped:
Do you think I enjoy this? He has teeth! It hurts!
Do something! Shut him up, I dont know Give him medicine!
I gave it! He needs to sleep!
Mike stalked into the room and loomed over his wife.
Listen, stop tormenting him. If he doesnt want to nap, dont force him. Let him crawl, scream in the next room. Put him in the kitchen and shut the door!
Are you out of your mind? Emily could barely form a reply. Hes only a year old! He cant go without a daytime nap.
If he doesnt sleep now, the evening will be pure hell. Neither of our nervous systems can take it.
I dont give a toss about his system! Skip the nap and hell crash faster at night. Logical, right? Logical.
Im fed up hearing this whining. I just want a bit of peace at home, got it? Im sick of this nightmare!
Peace? Emily rose slowly, still holding the sobbing baby. You want peace? And me? Do you know I havent eaten all day? I cant even use the loo without him?
If he doesnt fall asleep, Ill just collapse, Mike. I need that hour. I need it!
Oh, the drama, he rolled his eyes. Motherofallheroes. Everyone has kids, everyone raises them, and youre the most miserable of them all.
Put him on the floor, let him play. Then go and cook or whatever you need Hell entertain himself.
Do you even understand what youre saying? Emilys voice trembled. This is your son. Hes in pain, his teeth are coming in. You suggest depriving him of sleep so you can watch your rubbish series?
Im offering a solution! Mike shouted. He wont sleep, dont force him! Simple!
Charlie wailed again, burying his face in his mothers chest. Emily looked at Mike with disgust.
Get out, she whispered.
What? Mike asked, bewildered.
Leave the room. And close the door.
Mike stood for a second, snorted, and stalked out, slamming the door loudly.
Twenty minutes later, a exhausted Charlie finally drifted off, breathing in spasms.
Emily slipped into the kitchen. Mike was at the table, eating a sandwich and scrolling through his phone.
I called your mum yesterday, Emily said, leaning against the wall.
Mike tensed, putting his phone down.
Why?
I tried to figure out whats going on between us. I asked her what you were like, how your parents treated you.
She told me your dad never let you go without a fishing rod from the age of three, that you read books, that you grew up surrounded by love. Where does this come from?
Mike turned to her slowly.
Once more, he enunciated each word, youll complain to my mother and well have a serious row.
I didnt complain. I asked for advice.
Advice? he smirked. Do you know what she told me? That Im a coldhearted biscuit, that Im tearing the family apart.
Youve turned me into a monster, Emily. Proud of yourself?
Arent you the monster? she asked quietly. Look at yourself. You live with us like a flatshare neighbour. You never call your son by his name in a week. He, that little thing, this. You hate him?
Mike stayed silent.
I dont hate him, he finally managed. I just I dont know what to do with him.
He cries, he reeks, he demands, demands, demands!
I get home, its a mess, I want peace, I want to watch a film with you. Instead I get nappies, toys underfoot and your perpetually sour face.
Its only temporary, Mike. Kids grow
They grow for ages, Emily. Too long. I warned you, honestly: I dont like this. Did you think I was joking? That your great love would change me?
I thought you were an adult. I thought I dont like children and I dont like my own child were different.
Turns out theyre the same, he stood, tossed the unfinished sandwich in the bin. Im going for a walk. Need some fresh air.
Go, Emily turned toward the sink. Go. Well manage with Charlie.
Mike left, and Emily dialed her parents, desperate to sort something out.
***
That evening Charlie woke in a good mood. The tooth pain had faded; he happily crawled on the carpet, trying to catch the cat that kept hiding under the sofa.
Mike returned a couple of hours later. Emily didnt react at all. He flopped into his armchair, reached for the remote.
Charlie spotted his dad, grinned, and, wobbling on his knees, crawled to the chair. He clung to Mikes trouser leg and stuck his face into Mikes.
Pa! he shouted brightly, offering a toy car.
Emily froze, afraid to breathe. She watched Mikes reaction. He gave Charlie a quick glance, grimaced, and said to Emily:
Put him away, will you? I want to watch the telly! Whats got him glued to me? Go bother Mum!
Emily scooped Charlie up and carried him to the bedroom. An hour later she hauled out two huge suitcases; Mike barely had time to react before the doorbell rang. Her parents had turned up to collect Emily and the grandson.
Emilys motherinlaw had been urging her to return for a month, but she held firm. She filed for divorce a few days after moving out; she wasnt planning to live with Mike any longer.
Mike suddenly had a change of heart, tried to arrange meetings with his wife and son, but Emily decided everything would be settled in court.
Charlie would be brought up by his granddad a real man in every sense of the word.
