Chapter Seven

       Heather

       Happiness List

       1. Marry Luke!

      Freddy stared at Heather, a look of sheer puzzlement on his funny little old man face. It was as if he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult calculus problem. Without warning, his face reddened with exertion as he emptied his bowels to the sound of a loud wet fart.

      ‘O-oh, somebody needs a change,’ remarked Gemma. ‘Heather? Do you want to take this one?’

      ‘I’ll give it a go if you want me to?’ winced Heather.

      Gemma laughed. ‘Your face! I’m kidding. I couldn’t do it to you. It’s like dealing with nuclear waste. One day you’ll understand that you never agree to change a baby’s nappy unless that baby belongs to you. Right, come on, my boy,’ she cooed, plucking Freddy from his rocker chair. ‘Back in a sec.’

      Heather watched Gemma go, pondering her ‘one day’ remark. The thought of having a baby of her own thrilled and terrified Heather in equal measure. Seeing Gemma with Freddy had been strange at first but now, she couldn’t picture a world without him and it had sparked her own maternal curiosity. Heather was used to being second in the running when it came to the milestones of life but then Gemma was two years older. She didn’t mind. Gemma was her trailblazer and she loved her for it – where she went, Heather followed.

      She looked around Gemma’s living room now at the baby paraphernalia – you clearly needed a lot of stuff for these tiny human beings. There was a pram the size of a smart car in the hall, a fleece-lined rocker chair, which Heather decided that she wanted if they ever made scaled-up versions for adults, as well as all manner of black and white, mirrored, textured, squashy toys, which Freddy seemed to mostly ignore.

      Heather tried to picture all these items in her living room. She and Luke kept a pretty tidy house. They weren’t compulsive about it – no bean tins facing outwards in the cupboard or magazines kept at right angles – but it was neat and ordered. Still, maybe babies stopped you worrying about stuff like that, maybe you had to just go with it.

      She tried to picture Luke with a baby. She couldn’t ever remember seeing him with a child. He’d been working the last couple of times she’d met up with Gemma. They’d talked about babies in passing and she remembered him being positive – not effusively so but enough for her to feel satisfied that he would want kids one day. Maybe it was time for Luke to get to know Freddy a little better – one flash of that gummy smile and he’d be signing up for fatherhood quicker than you could say ‘baby-led weaning’.

      ‘Here we go – all clean,’ said Gemma as she carried Freddy back into the living room and held him out to Heather. ‘Would you like a cuddle?’

      ‘With you or the baby?’ Gemma laughed. ‘Come on then, Freddy Fruitcake, let’s see if I can make you cry like last time,’ said Heather, reaching out her arms to take him.

      ‘He was much smaller then, don’t worry, he’s a bit sturdier now. In fact, Ed reckons he could have a promising rugby career.’

      ‘Okay, but be ready for the first sign of trouble,’ warned Heather. ‘I haven’t had much practice.’ Heather shifted Freddy so that he was sitting, cradled on her arm. They were eyeball to eyeball. Heather held her breath – this could go one of two ways. All of a sudden, Freddy’s eyes brightened with recognition as if he’d spotted an old acquaintance who he hadn’t seen for years. His mouth lifted into an ‘o’ as he bowed forwards and planted a wet, gummy greeting onto Heather’s face.

      ‘He kissed you!’ cried Gemma with delight. ‘He only does that to Mum and me. You should feel very honoured.’

      Heather felt her throat thicken as Freddy drew back and eyed her with a look that said, I like you. She had a sudden glimpse into Gemma’s world and it was lovely. ‘Thank you, Freddy,’ she laughed, kissing him on the top of his head. Freddy’s smile widened even further and he kissed her again and again, relishing Heather and Gemma’s delighted reactions.

      ‘You should get one,’ joked Gemma, gesturing towards her son. ‘He likes you and he’s a notoriously tough one to please. He screamed when this little old lady cooed at him in the supermarket the other day. Mind you, she did stink of fags and was missing a couple of teeth.’

      Heather laughed. ‘Well, seeing how happy he makes you,’ she said, tickling Freddy under the chin, ‘and given that you and I share a love of vodka-based cocktails and Justin Timberlake…’

      ‘A round of cosmopolitans for the JT girls!’ cried Gemma.

      ‘Cheers to that, my friend!’ Heather grinned, holding up an imaginary glass. ‘I think it stands to reason that I would enjoy this motherhood lark as much as you do. Plus, he smells so good. Why does he smell so good?’ she asked, inhaling her godson’s downy head, making him giggle. ‘And that laugh? Surely, that’s the best sound in the world.’

      Gemma regarded her for a second. ‘I’m going to level with you, coz. For me, having a baby has been the most knackering experience of my life, my fanny’s a car crash and my nipples are so effing sore, but honestly?’ She gazed over at Freddy with a look of pure, unadulterated love. ‘I wouldn’t change it for the world. I mean, between ourselves, it would be