Come Fly With Me...: English Girl in New York / Moonlight in Paris. Fiona Brand

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       CHAPTER THREE

      DAN ENDED THE CALL on his phone. His captain had let out the loudest, heartiest laugh he’d ever heard when he’d told him about the baby. It hadn’t helped.

      He could hear pandemonium in the background at the station. He should be there helping. Instead of doing a late-night recce for baby supplies.

      Mr Meltzer, on the other hand, had been full of concern. Loading up supplies on the counter and waving his hand at Dan’s offer of payment.

      ‘If I help the little guy get a better start in life that’s all I need.’

      The words tormented him. Ground into him in a way they shouldn’t. If only everyone felt like Mr Meltzer.

      He pushed open the door to the apartment building and kicked the snow off his favourite baseball boots. They were really beyond repair.

      Carrie was waiting and she pulled open the inside door. ‘Did you get some milk?’

      He nodded and dumped the bags on the counter.

      ‘Wow, how much stuff did you get?’

      He pulled his arms out of his jacket. ‘Who knew a baby needed so much? Mr Meltzer just kept pulling things off his shelves and saying, “You better take some of that”.’

      Carrie tipped one of the bags upside down. ‘Please tell me you got some nappies and dummies. We need both—now.’

      ‘What? What are you talking about?’

      She waved her hand in the air. ‘Oh, you Americans. Nappies—diapers. And dummies— what do you call them? Pacifiers? He’s starting to get restless and it will take a little time to sterilise the bottles.’ She rummaged through the bags. ‘You did get bottles, didn’t you?’

      ‘What’s that smell?’ He wrinkled his nose and caught sight of the expression on her face. ‘Oh, no. You’re joking. He can’t have. He hasn’t eaten yet.’ He pulled out a pack of baby wipes. ‘I take it we’ll need these?’

      She nodded. ‘Do you have a towel we can lay him on? I’d say getting a nappy on the little guy is a priority.’

      Dan walked over to the laundry cupboard and started throwing things about. ‘I know I’ve got a brand-new set of towels in here somewhere. My friend Dave just got married. He was drowning in the things. Ah, here we are!’ He pulled out some navy blue towels and laid one down on the rug, a little away from the fireplace. He glanced at his cast. It was more inconvenient than he first thought—to say nothing about the constant ache that was coming from his wrist. ‘Can you do this?’

      He could see her taking a deep breath. ‘Fine,’ she muttered through gritted teeth. She grabbed the bag of diapers from the counter, along with the wipes and some diaper sacks. ‘Did you get some cream?’

      ‘Cream? What for?’

      ‘For putting on the baby’s bum, of course. Everyone knows you put cream on a baby to stop them from getting nappy rash.’

      He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Mr Meltzer didn’t seem to know—and he knew everything else.’ He pulled something from a second plastic bag. ‘Look—ready-made formula in a carton. We’ve got the powdered stuff, too, but he said this was ready to use.’

      She scowled at him as she laid the baby down on the fresh towel and peeled back the blanket.

      ‘Eww!’

      ‘Yuck!’

      The smell was awful and filled the apartment instantly. The baby, on the other hand, seemed to quite like the freedom the open blanket gave and started to kick his legs.

      ‘How can all that stuff come from one tiny little thing?’ He really wanted to pinch his nose shut.

      Carrie was shaking her head, too, as she made a dive for the baby wipes. ‘I have no idea, but the next one is yours.’

      He looked at her in horror. ‘No way.’ He waved his pink cast again. ‘Can you imagine getting a bit of that caught on here? It would stink forever. I would smell like this for the next six weeks.’ He shook his head. ‘At least you can wash your hands.’

      Carrie was deep in concentration, wiping and thrusting the dirty wipes into the supposedly scented diaper sack. She pulled out one of the diapers and held it up. ‘Well, at least you seemed to have got the right size.’

      Dan bit his lip. ‘Actually, there was a whole shelf of the things. Mr Meltzer picked them out.’

      She raised her eyebrow. ‘Can you ask him to come babysit, too, please? He seems to be the only person around here who knows anything about babies.’

      ‘I tried. He wasn’t buying it.’

      Carrie positioned the diaper under the clean little bottom and snapped the tapes into place. ‘There, that’s better. Pity the smell hasn’t disappeared.’ She picked up the blanket by the corner. ‘This will need washing. Where’s your machine?’

      ‘In the basement.’

      She let out a sigh. ‘I don’t get that about New York. Why does everyone have their washing machine in the basement?’ She waved her hands around. ‘You’ve plenty of room in here. Why isn’t your washing machine in the kitchen? Everyone in London has their washing machine in their flat. You don’t have to walk down miles of stairs to do the laundry.’

      ‘Worried about leaving your underwear unguarded?’

      There it was again. That cheeky element coming out. He couldn’t help it. She seemed so uptight at times.

      Just as he suspected, a pink colour flooded her cheeks. He could almost hear the ticking of her brain trying to find a way to change the subject quickly.

      She nodded over to the counter. ‘We need to sterilise the bottles.’

      ‘I think he gave me some tablets for that.’ Dan started to root around in one of the bags.

      ‘He probably did, but according to the internet the bottles would need to be in the sterilising solution for thirty minutes. It only takes ten minutes if we boil them. That way you can use the ready-made formula and get it into him quicker.’

      ‘What about one of these? Can we give him a pacifier in the meantime?’

      Carrie shook her head. ‘I think we need to sterilise them, too. And we need to use only cooled boiled water with the powdered milk. But I’ve no idea how long water takes to cool once you’ve boiled it. And I don’t know whether we should put the milk in the fridge or keep it at room temperature—everyone seems to have a different opinion on the internet.’ She was getting more harassed by the second, the words rattling out of her mouth and her face becoming more flushed. ‘I told you—I’m not an expert in all this. I have no idea what I’m doing!’

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