-Ellie-
You know, I am going to make an awesome mother. Totes amaze, in fact. Because look at what a good wife I am. How much insight, instinct and forbearance I have. Look at Will there, sleeping soundly beside me. All because of me. I knew the funeral was the right way forward for him. Used my insight and intuition – I can read him like a book. There’s nothing he can keep from me. And now, since I detected what he needed, life can continue. The working late tonight, it was unexpected, but such a good sign. His mind is clear of grief, and he can focus on his work again. That’s what he told me, and it’s so evident from the way he is holding himself. All positive and springy. And he brought me flowers! Beautiful, beautiful lilies. Bit funereal, but he’s a boy, so he can’t be expected to know that. I’ve put them in water (a vase that Gillian gave us, crystal, heavy, but hopefully Will won’t remember where it came from) so I can enjoy them again when we go down for breakfast.
Because Will has promised to make me breakfast. And he’s promised to paint the nursery when he gets the chance as well. Although he’s said that might not be for a while, as he’ll have to do a bit more late work at the university, on the research for this lecture. I’ll be so proud of him when he delivers it; I’m even going to come along and watch. Sneak into the back, so he can’t tell me not to come, keep me out with protestations of gore. Takes more than a few bloodied heads to frighten me! And he’s started kissing my stomach again, talking to little Leo about how they can play together (football, presumably), planning out the life for our new family. They say men only behave like this out of guilt, but that’s nonsense. For Will, it’s all from love. Love for Leo, love for me.
We haven’t had sex again, since that night before the funeral. But, you know. He’s been working hard. I don’t look that great. Clearly. Despite all the baby doll nightdresses I’ve been elephantinely floating (/stomping) around in. And the leg-stretches I’ve been doing in front of him. At least, I guess, he’s kissing my stomach. The Leo bit of me. Even if he’s not interested in the Ellie bit of me right now. That will change, in time. I hope.
And this happiness, Will’s happiness, is all because of me. All because I know best.
I’ve got a little plan, as well, that I’ve been working on. Was thinking about it earlier, as a way to keep his spirits up. Not suspenders, even though that used to do the trick. No, something more advanced than that. Yes – to make up for his father being dead, I’m going to find him his mother. That’s right. I’m going to track down Sophie Travers.
Shouldn’t be too difficult, should it, if I look in the right place? And then, for Will’s birthday or something, I can present him with the details, and they can have this beautiful reunion. I know he went through a little phase of hating her, over the last couple of weeks, but I’ve told him that was silly (and actually, disrespectful, given my current condition). Particularly when the real witch is so obviously Gillian. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’d done Max in herself out of jealousy (still convinced there was a whole world of desire going on there, from those photos) or just because she wanted her own little boy. Probably couldn’t have their own, Gillian and John – can’t exactly imagine either of them being procreative firecrackers.
So yes, I’m going to track down Sophie Travers. Maybe I should leave it to Will. Maybe I should wait until he wants to find her. But he must want to find her – who doesn’t want their mummy back? But I have to do it in secret, until I’ve actually found her, otherwise I’ll be accused of getting his hopes up again, like with Max. She’ll come back, and that will be proof that she hasn’t really abandoned him, not long-term. She can explain it all. And then we’ll have this lovely, lovely extended family. Mummy and Daddy, my much-missed Mummy and Daddy will be part of it too, in spirit. That way, they get to meet their grandson, to know of his existence. Even if it’s Sophie who actually plays with him. And unlike Gillian, Sophie will be so grateful to me, because I’ll have brought back her son to her after all these years. So she will do whatever I want, and she’ll look after Leo for free, so I won’t have to work, but can still go out and have some Ellie-time, and Will of course will be eternally grateful as he should be. Might even express his gratitude in the bedroom. Yes, I can see it now. Perfect harmony, in all things. All I need to do is track her down.
I did do a little bit of research today, to take a break from buying maternity clothes on-line (got to look my best for Will’s lecture, when the time comes). Which, in turn, I was doing to take a break from looking at job sites. Because, would you believe, Will has started on at me about getting a job? Now. As in pre-birth. I tried to tell him that I am preparing for the biggest job in the world: motherhood. I explained I need to work out my whole approach, have a plan, so I can be as good a mum as Mum. Then he started on about how important it is for Leo to have a role model. Well, that is dumb. He has a role model: Will. And anyway, I told Will that I don’t want to do science and teaching again. He told me it wouldn’t have to be in that exact space. Like, I could go and work at an academic publisher. Or an academic bookshop. Well, I searched ‘academic non-science bookshop jobs for pregnant women’ and nothing of much use came up. So I did my real research instead. My Sophie research.
I started in Dartington. Couldn’t find any Reigates in the on-line phone book. Or any Travers – which is silly, because it’s such an old English name. Like in P.G. Wodehouse or something. But anyway, I have found some local estate agents. I’ll call them in the morning. What I’ll do is, I’ll say I’m from one of these ‘find your ancestor’ TV programmes, looking up the history of my ancients – mention Max Reigate himself, why not, and say I’m positively desperate to find his former home, or that of his family. It won’t matter, you see, for data protection, if I say he’s already dead. So they’re bound to tell me. And then I can go on a little field trip. See if the people in the house fancy telling me where Ms Travers is now. Or for all I know, she might even still be there. Just longing to see the son she gave away, and to pick up that old life again.
I kiss Will lightly on the temple before I slide down into the covers for sleep. Not a big enough kiss to wake him; I’m not stupid. But just firmly enough for it to reach his subconscious world that I’m looking after him, that I know best, and that I’m going to find him his other mummy. I’ll still be chief Mummy, of course, the best Mummy. Because our baby Leo will be newest and shiniest. But mummy number two will be nice too. I know she will. For all of us.