A Baby’s Cry

I felt self-conscious and also excited as I entered the playground pushing the pram that afternoon. Although Adrian and Paula knew I would be collecting Harrison from the hospital, it had all happened so quickly that none of my friends and mothers to whom I chatted in the playground knew I would be arriving with a baby. I was right in thinking it would cause some interest and comments, for within a minute of entering the playground Harrison was the centre of attention. ‘Oh, what a darling baby!’ … ‘Isn’t he cute!’ … ‘That was quick work, Cathy!’ … ‘He’s not very old’ … ‘You’re a sly one – who’s the lucky guy?’ … ‘I’m broody’ … and so on.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of school, I pushed the pram towards the door Paula would come out of. Those mothers with children in the same class came with me, still chatting and asking questions about Harrison, while others went off to collect children from different exits. While I was able to answer questions about Harrison’s name, weight and when he was born, to most of the other questions I replied a polite ‘Sorry I don’t know.’ And even if I had known details of Harrison’s background, confidentiality forbade me from sharing these with anyone apart from the other professionals involved in his case.

As soon as Paula came out she grinned and rushed over. ‘Can I see him?’ she said, edging her way in between two mothers who were still leaning over the pram.

‘Hi, Harry,’ Paula said, and gave a little wave.

Harry replied by opening his mouth wide and giving a big yawn.

An affectionate chorus of ‘Aaahhh’ went up from the two mothers before they went off to collect their own children.

‘Can I push the pram?’ Paula asked, passing me her reading folder to carry and taking hold of the handlebar.

Adrian appeared with Josh, a boy from his class. ‘That’s him,’ Adrian said to Josh, pointing at the pram.

‘I’ve got one at home,’ Josh said, pulling a face. ‘They’re very smelly. Poo!’ he said, holding his nose for emphasis. Both boys dissolved into laughter.

‘Sshh, you’ll wake him,’ Paula cautioned, assuming a maternal role.

‘Mine cries and poos all day and night,’ Josh said happily, pulling another face, before running over to his mother, who was also pushing a pram.

‘Have you had a good day at school?’ I finally got to ask.

‘Yes. I got ten out of ten in the spelling test,’ Adrian said. ‘And Andrew’s asked me to his football party. Can I go?’

‘I’m sure you can. When is it?’

‘He’s giving out the invitations tomorrow. An ex-Liverpool player’s going to coach us.’

‘Sounds good,’ I said.

We began across the playground, with Adrian still chatting excitedly about the forthcoming football party, and Paula proudly pushing the pram and shushing Adrian not to disturb Harrison, while Harrison was trying to open his eyes and see what all the fuss was about. I wondered if Harrison’s mother had fully appreciated the joy of being with children when she’d made the decision not to see her son; or perhaps she had and, unable to keep Harrison, had decided that no contact would be less painful than seeing him and having to say goodbye.

I was nearer the truth than I realized.

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