THE BLANKET
So, whatyou honestly never argue at all? Katie adjusted the sunshade on her pram and gave Sophie a searching look.
Oh, we do sometimes. Were not robots, after all,” Sophie smiled. We bicker, get cross with each other. It happens. But we always patch things up. She tucked the light blanket more snugly around her son, then settled into the park bench, closing her eyes for a moment as the sunshine touched her cheek. Its lovely today, isnt it? Finally, some proper warm weather. Feels like summer, at last. Couldnt tell with all that rain lately.
But Katie, whose life was more like the Battle of Waterloo or the Sommedepending on whether she was arguing with her mum or her husbandhad no intent to let this intriguing chat end.
So how do you always manage it?
Weve got our little secret, Sophie said. Made it up ages ago, when we first moved in together. Well, I suppose we borrowed the idea. Doesnt make much difference, does it? See, neither of us ever liked long arguments, didnt see the point. But its always the same, isnt it? Everythings fine and thenbang! Something minor happens but it seems huge, suddenly all these complaints burst out, even over nothing. Young and daft, the pair of us…”
And now what? Are you both old fogies? Katie snorted, peering at her friend. Look at younot a wrinkle in sight, no bags under your eyes! Me, I wouldnt leave the house without make-up or Id scare the postman senseless.
Its not magic, Katie. I sleep at night. Three times a week, mind, but thats enough.
What about feeding him at night?
Sophies face clouded. My husband does. He gets up instead of me. Our boys bottle-fed. I honestly wanted to do it myself… but it just didnt work out.
How come?
Sophie opened her eyes, thoughtful. So much had happened in those past yearsjoy and heartache in equal measure. Shed been a pampered only child and had nearly slipped into a miserable gloom.
Her mum had died at the worst possible momentprecisely when shed needed her most. Then her dad… The two of them had lived for each other. Sophie remembered those tender little things: her mum, shaking her head fondly at her dad, dozing after a long shift, draping a blanket over him on the sofa before dinner because he hadnt even made it to bed. After all, anyone would collapse after standing at the surgery table for hours on end.
She saw Mum delighted at Dad’s hands full of wild strawberrieseating them right from his palms, brushing her lips against his wrist after every berry.
And her father would gently remove willow leaves tangled from Mums hair when theyd gone fishing under that old tree by the river. Hed pick out the leaves with tender fingers and fix her with a look that could last an hour. Sophie would hardly dare breatheafraid to scatter the golden cloud of their happiness. She saw it so clearly; she would swear even now it was real.
Those memories still warmed her, bright as a fire on a Friday nightthough the givers of that warmth had long departed. Dad simply couldnt carry on without his love. He fought for her with every ounce of his connections, but not even the best surgeon in the country could save the woman whod been his whole world.
Sophie often heard that people love with their heartbut she knew it was true: once you take that love away, the heart itself forgets how to beat. Her fathers just gave up.
She sighed, remembering how Gran had helped her pack after her father died.
Darling, take the photos.
No.
Why not?
Startled by her own outburst, Sophie got hold of herself. Theyre not the same here, Gran. I can see them in my mindalive, happy. Not like this… Lets leave them here for now, please? Maybe another time
But another time was ages coming.
Sophie stayed with her gran. Lived there while she studied, got her first job. She couldnt move awayGran was slipping day by day, and by the time Sophie graduated from the local university, her grandmother was completely bedridden.
Love, you should send me somewheretheyll take care of old fogies like me. Youre young! You need to live your life.
Nonsense, Gran! Im not sending you anywhere. You want some soup? I just made it.
How do you manage it all, love?
Im not sure, Sophie would shrug, blowing on a spoonful before feeding Gran.
She honestly didnt know how she managed. There was the neighbour, Auntie May, who helped and outright refused any payment.
Im embarrassed! Sophie protested. You do so much for us!
Oh, enough of that, Sophie! Im not doing anything, reallyand I don’t do it out of pure kindness either! Aunt May would grin slyly. Im old and aloneas they say, one good turn deserves another! You might be the one bringing me a cuppa one day. Just making an investment in my future.
Aunt May had been there when Gran passed away, too.
My poor girl! Lifes put you through hell and back. First your mum, then your dad, then Gran But you know, Sophie, if God sends you so much sorrow, Hell give you just as much joy, believe menatures balance. When you lose here, you gain there.
I wish I could believe it, Aunt May. What joy? Wheres it hiding?
Sophie, her eyes red and puffy from tears, sat small and hunched in a baggy black headscarf that one of the neighbours had brought round. The world around her seemed grey, like it had been washed with dirty dishwater. Only Grans photo on the table was brighta young, beautiful Gran, hair swept up, smiling. Sophie reached out, plucked the black ribbon from the frame, tossing it aside.
Thats right, dear. As long as you remember her, she lives. Let her stay young and beautiful in your memory. You look just like her, you knowsame eyes, same smile, even a bit of that stubborn streak… I knew your Gran over half a century. Never met a better soul.
Aunt May crossed herself and hugged Sophie tight. The tears that came then were somehow easier, lighterfinally a sort of comfort.
Sophie didnt want to stay in Grans flat. She packed up her things and moved back to the family home. She remembered turning her key, stepping into the silent, empty rooms vacated by the tenants. Empty of noise, of laughter, of singingof love. Lonely as anything.
No matter how much she tried, she couldnt fill that emptiness. She soon found a jobnot the best but it paid regularly and decently for the town, and that was good enough at the start. Work distracted her but home felt like a tomb. She dreaded the quiet, the solitude. Shed put the TV on, but it only echoed the hollowness. She was too lonesome to go out in the evenings and shed lost touch with her childhood friendsthe girl who once shared her desk hadnt recognised her on the street.
One night, after thinking it over, she grabbed her bag and headed to visit Aunt May.
Move in with me, Sophie suggested.
Oh, no, dear, why would you want an old woman like me around? Youll find someone, fall in lovelifes out there for you!
Thats not exactly tomorrow, is it? Theres no-one on my horizon and, Aunt May, Im scared. I hate being on my own so much. I keep thinking I hear Gran calling me, making her soup, her meatballs, but I cant eat them without her.
My darling girl! Aunt May pulled Sophie in for a hug. Dont cry! Ill come, Ill move in for a bit, until things settle down for you. Just need a bit of time to pack. And you havent forgotten my companion, I hope?
Sophie managed a watery smile and patted Mays cat, Tilly, a green-eyed tabby who promptly shut her eyes, as if approving the plan.
So it was that Sophie gained two housemates. No longer did she have to stand outside, summoning courage to enter a dark, silent flat. Tilly, with her uncanny feline sense, would always be waiting at the door, tail up, then scamper off to the kitchen to report Sophies return to Aunt May.
They lived like that for about a year, and thats when Sophie met Mark.
His mum called him Markyhe was marvellous. A mathematician, dreamy and brilliant. Hed sit lost in numbers, searching for the pencil lying right in front of him, half-blind without his specs, but he’d always notice Sophie. And not just see her, but give her that look her father once gave her mother.
That look bowled her over, and before she knew it, shed agreed to become his wife. Aunt May would secretly dab at her eyes as she helped Sophie plan the wedding.
Well, looks like were all set, Aunt May said, fiddling with Sophies veil and gazing up at the newly hung photographs on the lounge wall.
Its just a shame your parents and Gran cant see you today. Theyd be so chuffed! Mind you, Im sure theyre watchingknowing youre happy.
Aunt May! The makeup
Marks parents treated Sophie coolly. Busy people, hard to please. But Sophie had her own flat, so living with the in-laws, thank heavens, was off the cards.
Time I went home, Sophie! Aunt May declared, sitting down one evening while Sophie was making Marks favourite pie. You dont need me anymore. Youre not alone.”
Dont be daft!
Oh Sophie! Im only in the way now. Its not right, me bunking in with you newlyweds.
Aunt May, dont talk nonsense! Youre like a mum and Gran to mewhat would I have done without you? And really, Marks the mathematician here, but even I can add up. Theres not two of us, theres three. Four, counting Tilly! Youre not going anywhere. I want my children to have a proper grandmother. I had one and so should they.
Oh, love, youve given me a family again. Youll never know what that means.
Mark popped his head into the kitchen, blinking and spectacles askew. What, has there been a flood in here? At this rate, youll need
Sophie didnt let him finish. She kissed his nose, popped his glasses back on, and sent him packing.
Off you go! Dinner in a minute. This is girls business.
Sophie’s eldest son was born right on schedule.
Son of a mathematician! Aunt May said as she swaddled little Harry. Hows that for timing? Couldnt have planned it better!
Everything was wonderfulSophie was discharged just before Christmas. Marks parents dropped by for the briefest, most formal of visits, barely glancing at the baby before bundling Mark outside, where they told him the child didnt look remotely like him. Sophie never found out; Mark stood his ground and told his parents they werent welcome until they learned some decency. Which was that, reallyHarry had just one grandmother: Aunt May.
He grew up under her cheerful care. While Sophie and Mark worked, Harry had the kindest companiona woman whod jump in puddles with him, make whistles from blades of grass, and belt out songs terribly off-key, to his utter delight.
When Harry turned four, Sophie learned she was expecting again. Joy flooded the house, but was quickly shadowed.
Why are you having another baby? Its more cost, more work. Sophie, forgive me, but its dreadful timing. Dont you think you should think of Mark too? Hes got his doctorate soonnow nappies and a poorly grandmother to worry about! I just dont get it.
Marks mother was blunt and never hid her feelings. Sophie listened quietly, pushing away her untouched chamomile in favour of not having coffee with her mother-in-law. Her blood pressure was all over lately, and though the doctors said there was nothing to worry about, Sophie had a bad feeling. Shed always been annoyingly healthy, even as a child.
I insist you reconsider having this baby. Think of what we want. Mark needs to develop, to grow. Youre holding him back.
Something about the we want got to Sophie, but it wasnt until she got home that it hit her. Did Mark feel the same? Had he said something to his mum? She could understand wanting the best for your son, but the accusation hurt. It wasnt just her initiativetheyd both wanted this child. Or had they?
By the time Mark came home, Sophie had wound herself so tight that, for the first time ever, she met him at the door not with a smile, but with a stormy scowl.
Mark, do you want another child or not?
Deer-in-the-headlights, Mark didnt reply fast enough.
Sophie blew up. The row was a proper dramashouting, crying, scaring poor Aunt May who wasnt sure whether to reach for the smelling salts or grab Sophie to protect her from herself. She broke half the crockery in the kitchen and then, shocked at herself, asked, Did I do all this?
Mark could only nod, utterly bewildered to see normally calm Sophie in such a state.
Later, Aunt May explained things to Mark. Its her nerves, love. Perfectly normal for an expectant mum. But dont let her stress. You saw what your mums little chat did. Go, grab the blanket, and put things right. Otherwise, itll only fester.
He nodded, went to the cupboard, pulled out the old blanket they no longer used, and went off to Sophie.
That was the very secret Sophie had mentioned to Katie.
You see, Sophie explained, when we first married, we bought a new blanket for our bed. Gorgeous, butwell, we misjudged the size. It only just covered us both if we snuggled right up together. Aunt May laughed herself silly the first time she saw it, but then she gave us a brilliant idea.
What was that?
Whenever we had a row, shed secretly hide the big blanket and make the bed up with the small oneshe even got a matching duvet cover so wed barely notice. The big one was hidden so well, wed never find it. So, like it or not, we had to squeeze under the small one. And in the end, you cant stay cross when youre pressed up together like that. Later, Mark and I made a pactnot to go to bed angry, ever. We don’t really need the blanket trick anymore, but sometimes, if we’ve had a bad row, we still get it out. Were human, Katie. We love each other to bits but I think if you never argue, somethings off. Youre two different people, from different families, raised differently. Theres bound to be friction sometimes.
Youre right… Katie said. So, did you make up, then?
We did. Not straight away, but we did. And I learnt something.
Whats that?
That you have to listen to your own partnerreally listen to themnot everyone else. I remembered how happy Mark was when I told him about the baby, how he told Harry hed have a brother. But what I ended up listening to… wasnt my husband at all.
Sophie sighed, reaching for the pram. Daniel slept on, sweet and peaceful, her heart swelled watching him.
And Daniel? Katie leaned back, sun on her face. No holidays at the seaside anytime soon, but at least I can catch some sun here. Soph?
Hm?
I meantwas it easy, having Daniel? Or did the nerves play a part?
Sophie was quiet a moment. Then: That baby… that wasnt Daniel. We lost that one.
Katie gasped, instantly gripping the pram handle as her own daughter whimpered in her sleep, as if sensing her mothers sorrow.
Sophies voice went flat, the light gone. Katie wanted to stop her, but something told her maybe Sophie needed to let it out.
It happened late. I went completely numb. Id lie all day, turned away from the world, not wanting to see or hear anyone. Aunt May almost force-fed me and practically bathed me herself. I thought my life was over. Id waited for that baby, felt him body and soul, and thenjust pain, like someone had torn out my joy and buried it deep inside me. I couldnt imagine being understood by anyone. Mark dropped everything and never left my side, told his mother to leave when she insisted he return to work. He never tried to console me with wordsjust brought our blanket, got into bed, held me as tightly as he could… And with Harryhe was just a child. He cried at night, called for me, but I couldnt even sit up.
How did you manage
Did I get better? With difficulty. All thanks to Mark and Aunt May. Thats when I started calling her Mum May. One night I had some mad, wild dreamI dont even remember itbut I shouted so loud the neighbour came running. I was yelling for my mum. Aunt May scooped me up in the blanket, hugged me, and sang me the lullaby I used to sing to Harrythe one my own mother used to sing to me. For some reason, that helped. Not completely, but enough I could breathe again.
And then?
Then Mum May dragged me to doctors, persuaded me all was possible. Daniel is her miraclefive years of dashed hope, but she never stopped believing.
Down the avenue, two figures appeared, one tall, one short. Sophie smiled through her tears.
Theres my guardian angel. She went to collect Harry from football club. Lovely groupall the way across the city, though. Too far to let him go on his own. Mum May insists she goessays she needs her excitement. Shes even started a parent cheer clubchants, scarves, the lot. They go to every match and shout so loud the boys nearly always win. They say you cant lose when youve a fan club making that much noise.
A tousle-haired boy in a bright white shirt darted over, poked his head into the pram and whispered, Mum, can I take him home?
Carefully, yes! Sophie stood and nodded to Katie. Thank you, honestly.
What for?
For helping me remember what mattersfor reminding me how lucky I am to have these people. See you tomorrow?
Definitely. See you!
Sophie hugged the plump, cheerful older lady joining her, who smoothed Sophies hair and gave Katie a warm Have a lovely day!
And you!
Katie watched them go, thinking how old Tolstoy had it right in Anna Karenina. On her way home, she decided to pop into the shop and look for the right sort of blanket. It might just work. And while she was at it, shed buy some cherries for her husbands favourite pie.
That always did help clear the air, Katie thought, smiling to herself.
Personal lesson: Even after all these years, I see now that family is chosen as much as its inherited. Love is in the little things: a blanket, a helping hand, listening instead of speaking. And its patching things up, not pretending cracks never come. Its letting people hold youhowever battered you are. Thats home.
