James

Breakfast time.

Charlotte is up and about, refusing to stay in bed. And, while she is still tired, I see no reason to insist on bedrest. Right now, she will do far better for being back at home and enjoying ‘family life’.

Nonetheless, I’ve encouraged her to wear a woolly housecoat over the nightie, slippers and bed socks. Hopefully, that will prevent her trying to go outdoors. The fog outside hasn’t cleared yet and I don’t want the damp settling on her chest.

She's too pale. At least, she's always pale, but that's her natural colouring. Right now, there's still that pallid edge to her complexion that I don't care for.

Almost a week of being chained in her own shit.

Living on crap junk food.

Scared half mindless…

Blood loss from the birth...

Hmmm...

Charlotte sits with Cara on her lap, providing her breakfast and Beth sits close by making cooing noises.

She’ll enjoy a good breakfast…

And with that in mind, I’m at the hob with bacon, fried and scrambled eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, black pudding and fried bread.

I rummage through the fridge, seeking inspiration. It's barely stocked. We've spent the last few days living on food from the freezer.

white tee-shirt, jeans and trainers and looking exactly not as though he

a

“Good idea.”

Mother Hubbard’s cupboard in there. I'll pop across

Watercress. Anything

five. I'll

overflowing basket, setting containers one after another on the counter. “Raspberries, blueberries, strawberries. There were oranges too, but Sally tells me she shouldn't have citrus fruits while she’s breastfeeding. Oh, and this…” He brandishes a jar. “Some kind of chutney.

Sally I’ve no guinea pigs in the larder and

at me then pulls up a chair, comparing notes with Richard of

I eye the table…

Charlotte?

‘unhooks’ Cara from the

very careful to check they’re giving you something suitable. You need to take them until that chest infection clears, and they’ll do

set the cooked food on the table. “There you go,

“We should be finishing decorating the

answering smile is broad

taps a long nail on the table. “Charlotte, will you show me how you make

need some glossy magazines, something with

hotel,” says Michael. “I’ll see what’s out of date in Reception…”

following his

there, hand-in-hand with Klempner. Both

shifts from one foot to the other. Mitch sucks at her lips.

I stand. “Of course you may. Charlotte, where are your manners? Budge up, make some space for your parents. Michael, set

*****

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