7th August 2010

As Suraj predicted, Charlotte and baby Ellis David left Lincoln Hospital on Thursday afternoon. It wasn’t long before the phone rang with a polite but unmistakable request for the return of Lucas. We reluctantly promised to deliver him the following day. When Lucas heard we were taking him home to see the new baby, he was thrilled, though he did point out, rather matter-of-factly, that I would now have to play with Jamie instead. Still, he promised to come back for Christmas, which felt like a fair deal.

On the way to Newark, we made a detour via Leicester to attend to other family business: namely, Sarah’s new car. The day before, we’d bought her a Ford Ka with a modest 32,000 miles on the clock, a neat little number with twin airbags, air-con, a CD player, and ABS. She fell in love with it instantly. This came after a long morning at a multitude of dealers, of crawling under various cars to check their subframes (a questionable choice given my light-coloured trousers) and test-driving some real mechanical heartbreakers. So finding one without rust or faults felt like a small miracle. We dropped off the insurance certificate so the garage could tax it, and were pleased to see they were giving it a full wash and wax when we arrived.

When we reached Newark, we were warmly welcomed by Charlotte, Suraj, baby Ellis, and a roaring fire. Apparently, babies must be kept “roasting” (a fact confidently provided by Lucas). Ellis, asleep at the time, already looked less like a brand-new baby. Later, while feeding, he opened his eyes briefly before drifting off again. He certainly has a healthy appetite and ‘woofed’ his bottle down with determination. Lucas was delighted to be back, diving straight into his toys and occasionally pausing to stare at Ellis. Charlotte looked well but walked delicately. Recovery will take time, and she’s under strict instructions not to lift or overdo things.

Not long after our arrival, Suraj vanished upstairs to configure a computer he’d built for Sarah, while I went outside to finish off some painting and carpentry left over from the previous week. The ladies, meanwhile, were doing what I can only describe as “the baby thing”, a mysterious ritual that seemed to involve shouting at Suraj or me every time we left a door open. In a bid to keep out of trouble, I took on fixing the toilet door, which had a rather embarrassing habit of slowly opening while one was otherwise engaged, the sort of position where getting up to shut it was out of the question. It now stays firmly closed, allowing for uninterrupted brooding.

We left early that evening, enjoying a peaceful drive home, no rounds of Row, Row, Row Your Boat, no relentless “What’s that?” interrogation at every roadside landmark, and, best of all, no emergency stops for sick cleanup.

The near future promises to be lively for Charlotte and her household. Suraj has a new job in Thrapston (a 1.5-hour drive down the A1), the house is up for sale, and they’ve just welcomed a new baby. “Dull” will not be on the agenda.