The sofa had to be away from the wall at some point for the curtain to be in that position.
Hmmm &%+((£
Here is another of those vivid, now cherished memories: Madeleine, in her Eeyore pyjamas, sitting on my lap and cuddling in – something of which she was especially fond when she was tired.
We were on one of the two blue sofas, the one facing the patio doors, with Sean and Amelie to our right. I read them a Mog story by Judith Kerr. Auntie Ail – my cousin Aileen – and Uncle Andy had bought this for Madeleine on her third birthday and it remained one of her favourites. She asked if she could wear my engagement ring, which she often liked to do. I took it off and she put it on her middle finger for a few minutes. Gerry arrived back promptly at 7pm, sat down on the other couch and we all chatted for a while. Then we shepherded our three weary little ones through to the bathroom to brush their teeth and for Madeleine to do her bedtime ‘wee-wee’.
I took them all into their bedroom. Madeleine got into her bed and then Amelie, Sean and I settled ourselves on top of it, with our backs against the wall, for our final story, If you’re happy and you know it!, another present to Madeleine, this one from Great-Auntie Janet and Great-Uncle Brian. If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands! says the monkey. Stamp your feet! says the elephant.
If you’re happy and you know it . . . It seemed so fitting at the time. Madeleine was obviously exhausted and her head sank down on her pillow intermittently, although she did join in with the babbled responses of her little brother and sister. It’s strange the things you remember. Two pages at the end of the book are divided up into squares, most of them containing one of the animals featured earlier. Madeleine started to count these. She included a couple of the blank squares and I was about to point this out to her when I checked myself, realizing that she was counting the squares regardless of whether or not there was an animal inside. What did it matter, anyway? I felt a surge of pride in her. A boring and redundant detail, you may think, but now any memory of my baby is to be treasured, especially one of the last to date I have to cling on to.
Gerry came through to say goodnight. We helped Sean and Amelie give their big sister a ‘night-night’ kiss before laying them in their adjacent travel cots. Then we kissed the twins, and kissed Madeleine, already snuggled down with her ‘princess’ blanket and Cuddle Cat – a soft toy she’d been given soon after she was born and never went to bed without. We were in no doubt that all three would be asleep in an instant. As always, we left the door a few inches open to allow a glimmer of light into the room.
Between 7.15 and 7.30pm Gerry took his shower and I went to blow-dry my wayward fringe and put on a bit of make-up. We then sat down together in the sitting room for three-quarters of an hour or so and relaxed with a drink. We talked about the holiday and whether we’d do anything differently
if we were to come again, which we had been considering. We both thought that another time we’d quite like to stay in the apartment on our own some evenings (the other couples probably felt that way, too), have a leisurely dinner in the sitting room or on the veranda, and enjoy one of our famous early nights. In fact, we’d wondered about doing that tonight, but as it was such a short holiday, and almost over, it seemed a bit unsociable not to join in with everyone else. Another decision that could have gone either way. (Madeleine)
