She looked down at her body; already her belly had gone down – she didn’t look like she had just given birth. She had laughed about it with the midwife, and another new mum who had popped her head around the door asking if it was OK to come in and say hello. She had really loved that. Talking babies with another mum was something she had never thought she would ever do. It was so natural, and they had chatted together for ages. Then she had fed her little Jessica – already she was Jessie, Michael had seen to that. Her mother had never allowed her name to be shortened – she was Josephine, never Jo. Yet she had already accepted Jessie for her daughter; it suited her somehow, she looked like a Jessie.

Even Hannah had not been able to ruin this day for her. Unlike her mother and father who had held the baby, cooed to her, and shared in her first few hours in the world, Hannah had refused the offer to hold her grandchild, and she had left without even saying goodbye. Michael had not even noticed his mother’s absence; he was as besotted with Jessie as she was. He just gazed at his new daughter with complete and absolute awe. She was a lovely child already; she had been born pink and creamy, not even any blood or vernix on her. She could see herself in her daughter’s features. Her mum had said Josephine had been her double, the image of her as a baby, and she was going to bring in the pictures to prove it. Michael was so dark, Josephine had thought the child would resemble him, dark-haired and apple-cheeked. But she wasn’t – she was fair-skinned, and honey-blond, just like her mum.

Josephine knew she should try to sleep – she was whacked out – but it was impossible. She wanted this day to last for ever. It was the best day of her whole life. She felt truly alive for the first time in years. Michael had been so good, pretending he didn’t care if they had children or not, but she believed, deep inside, that he did care. She hugged herself with glee. She was finally a mother, she was someone’s mum, and that felt so good. She looked at her little daughter, lying there so defenceless, so vulnerable, and she whispered softly, ‘I promise you, my little Jessie Flynn, that I will never let you down. If you need me I will always be there for you.’ She meant every word. It never occurred to her that sometimes you couldn’t protect your children, no matter how much you might want to. Life just didn’t work like that.

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-One