“David?” she was standing in the doorway with the five week old baby on her shoulder, with a confused, questioning look.

David Henshaw: Father-in-law to Elizabeth Henshaw. He had realised she was struggling and offered to come down to help out for a while, just whilst his son – Derek – was away. Derek had been called to an urgent sales conference, he had to go, no question. Well ... actually there might have been some question. Reading between the lines, he hadn’t been that much use in the four weeks of paternity leave he had taken. ‘oh yes, he’s minding the baby whilst I get some things done’ probably meant he’s holding the sleeping baby while he’s watching football. Then, at the end of the four weeks he had taken (under protest), he had been urgently requested to attend the sales meeting and he was away like a shot. David had his suspicions.

The next day, there was a tremor in Elizabeth’s voice. Her mother and father had come up in the second week and been even less use than Derek it seemed. Mr and Mrs Arthur Bryant (she still used her husband’s name when they were together! Isobel when she was alone) meant well, but they weren’t intuitive. They didn’t see the bread with a range of interesting moulds starting to appear and go and get some fresh. They didn’t see the tea had nearly run out, even as they were helping by making a pot of tea. Their idea of providing some meals was to get fish and chips one night, pizza a second, and Indian the third. Not Chinese though: “Makes your father bilious”, Isobel Bryant explained. It didn’t occur to her to go to the supermarket half a mile away and buy something and cook it. Though she would never admit it to Derek, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when they left.

Two weeks later and David’s car drew up, he had stopped and bought some smoked fish for tea that night. “Kedgeree? Never had it? You’ve missed a treat. These eggs are just past their sell by – they should be okay, are you okay with that?”

“Oh, I haven’t stripped the bed from when mum and dad were here. I asked Derek, but -”

“No problem ... well hello little man, aren’t you growing? You sit, here’s a cup of tea, feed the sprog and I’ll do the bed.”

“Sorry, I mean -”

“No problem at all, oh, here’s some Bourbon biscuits. You like them don’t you?” she did, they were her favourite – a vice she had maintained since student days, cheap sugary Bourbon biscuits. Her mother didn’t approve and therefore didn’t ever buy them. Then he went upstairs, stripped the guest bed, looked in the hot press for replacements and remade the bed. At the end, he looked at it and tutted. “Oh, David. That’s not a well made bed is it?” he said out loud, consciously channelling his late wife who seemed to always manage to find fault with his bed making no matter how hard he tried.

“Pardon?!” a voice from downstairs said.

“Sorry, Elizabeth, just passing on the criticism Katie would have made of my bed making skills. Shall I put the washing on?”

“Do you mind? Are you sure?”

He pushed in sheet, pillow cases, duvet cover and added a few cotton shirts (a couple stained with milk that had leaked, he noticed), then cotton pants and maternity bras. Washing his daughter-in-law’s underclothes caused him not a jot of embarrassment. He was there to help, so he would help. ‘How did these genes bypass his son?’ Elizabeth wondered, not for the first time. Perhaps Katie and he had done so much that Derek had never had the chance to learn domestic skills. But she knew, even as she thought that, that that was an excuse not an explanation. In the brief time she had known Katie, she had been similarly cheerful and helpful; Elizabeth remembered once again that fateful first meeting when the four had been walking along a river bank and Elizabeth had stumbled against Katie and watched horrified as her boyfriend’s mother slid down the steep bank into the muddy, tidal bank of the river. David had simply said she’d have to walk back as she wasn’t getting in his clean car like that. It was a warm day so she insisted they continue to the pub; no harm done. That was Elizabeth’s introduction to an easier, freer approach to marriage. She’d hoped, or even assumed, that Derek would be the same when they were married, but deep down, she knew it would not be like that. Even one of their mutual friends had once opined that Derek could be ‘too far up his own arse’. Derek had not seen the joke.

So David had arrived, left Elizabeth and his favourite (alright, his only) grandson to sort themselves whilst he did what Mr Bryant (and quite possible Derek) would have considered woman’s work and got the house into order. Then he walked in to see Elizabeth with her shirt open and up at one side. “Oh, are you ... I mean, should I...”

“David, I’m fine with this if you are. It is, afterall, what they are for.”

“Well, quite. Here, more tea?”

“Thanks, I did wonder if I was drinking enough.”

So baby Daniel happily glugged whilst Elizabeth and David talked; then Daniel needed changing “In one end and out the other?” David had laughed, and Elizabeth laughed with him and wished her mother and father could be so easy going. And David even offered to change Daniel, but they agreed he would make the dinner and she would change him.

In the fridge were two little bottles of milk – Elizabeth had said she was quite prolific, the plan had been that Derek would take one of the night feeds so she could sleep longer. So she had milked herself with an electric pump (Everybody – Elizabeth, Derek and now David – thought of milking parlours for cows; Derek found it vaguely disgusting that the teats he had happily sucked on when they were dry were now squirting milk); but now he had gone away and she was left to wake up twice in the night for ‘the insatiable milk vampire’. Elizabeth had headed up saying she would change him and then try the other breast for a while to see if he’d had enough.

David looked at the bottles as the rice cooked. Could he? He shouldn’t. Maybe just a taste. No-one would know, no harm done. He unscrewed the bottle and dipped a finger and started to move it towards his mouth.

“David?”

“Errr. It isn’t ... it isn’t what it looks like.

Yes, it is. Oh, shit. I should leave. I’m sorry. I’ve let you down. Oh, I...”

“At least make the dinner, explain and then leave.”

The next twenty minutes was excrutiating as he prepared the meal. It felt like a hundred years of silence.

“Very nice, thank you. I would have just had toast probably. Now...?”

“Well. When Derek, and then Rachel were born, Katie let me taste her milk. She said she thought all men wanted to.” Elizabeth thought ‘Derek didn’t, he let me understand how distasteful he thought it all was. HE wanted to use formula as soon as possible’. “I remember that sweet taste unlike anything before or since. I ... well I just wanted a taste, just a fingerful, to remember. Unforgiveable, I know.”

“Why didn’t you ask? ... oh, no, I suppose it isn’t really the kind of thing you can ask a daughter-in-law no matter how well you get on. But, well it isn’t very sanitary is it? I mean your finger...”

“I did wash it first. I’m sorry. It seemed ... I should leave.”

“Don’t be silly, but promise me you won’t do it again.” She weighed up the costs and benefits and decided that even with a slightly weird father-in-law, he was better helping than her being alone. She wondered now if he’d felt her bras or, oh horror! Or her pants. As it was, he hadn’t.

“Of course, never, ever, ever. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Even I’ve not tried it. Go and get the bottle you opened, and pour half each into two glasses.”

“Oh look, I mean I...” she just looked at him and said nothing, knowing that he wanted to do it.

Five minutes later, they were rounding off the kedgeree with a small glass each of human milk. Both looked at each other and smiled. “A bit cold straight from the fridge.” she said “But I can see the attraction.”

He cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher; she took the sleepy baby and herself off for a snooze. What had he done? There relationship would never be the same, he knew that. She had been very grown-up, relaxed, about it. But he was sixty five and she was thirty; and he had drunk her milk. No, she’d never want to be alone with him again, obviously. He knew it was weird, but there it was; as she said, that was what the breasts were for. He’d never fantasised about feeling them, squeezing them or sucking them when they were not in use for feeding the baby; well, not really. No more than any man who sizes up every attractive woman (and he knew he was in the majority there). It actually seemed natural to wonder about the taste of human milk. He’d happily try any other mammalian milk too, just out of curiosity. He’d heard that some animal produced pale blue milk, but what was it? He couldn’t remember.

He was sixty five, retired, and fit. That just about summed him up. He and Katie had planned for a good retirement and then she had gone and spoilt it all by dying. He’d gone to pieces, of course; and the firm he currently worked for had ‘done him a favour’, they had given him a payoff at sixty two so he could retire early. They hadn’t asked what he wanted, because what he wanted was a bit of patience and then to get back to some structure in his life with a job. They had chosen to avoid the problem by throwing money at him. He had forced structure into his life. He didn’t want a stairlift, or chairs that lifted you up, or a walk in bath, or a retirement apartment, or anything that was on day time tv. He walked the Pennine way, he walked the coast to coast, and then Hadrian’s wall back. He wasn’t a nuisance to anyone (least of all his children), and he joined a choir for the winter evenings when walking hours were more restricted. He would never say he was happy, but he was coping with bereavement and being alone better than many. His hair was white, his stomach was flat, his legs were strong. He wasn’t exactly happy; contented nearly; that summed him up. The grandchild was something to work for now, the next generation. He thought of the poem ‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad... ‘ and smiled. “No grandparents, just parents. Oh no, wait, the later verse implies it just goes on and on.” he said out loud.

“David! Can you come up.”

He went upstairs, knowing that she had had time to think and would suggest he left now.

“David, look, I’ve fed him. I’ve pumped another bottle. I’m not empty. Here.” She lifted her shirt and he looked at her full round breast, remembering his wife’s. “Or maybe I’m grossing you out now.”

“No, not at all. But are you sure?” He was already half way there. Halfway to paradise. The first dribble into his mouth reminded him. The warm, sweet taste; the warm round feeling, the large nipple in his mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked.

Five or ten minutes passed and she sighed. “Oh, that is so nice, for them both to be completely drained. Thank you.”

His turn to be surprised, she was thanking him for sucking his daughter-in-law’s milky breast. That was just weird.

“HELLO?” said the voice down below. “WHERE IS EVERYONE?!”

“Derek? Hello Derek, just coming.” David slipped into the bathroom and then flushed the toilet and re-appeared.

“Derek. Hello, You knew I was coming? I think?”

“Yes, yes, Dad, lovely to see you.” Derek hugged his father, he didn’t know enough of his own family to smell the milky breath on him. David noticed how the ‘doting’ father hadn’t rushed to his son or his wife; David sighed, and wondered the same ‘how was it that the genes bypassed his son so easily’.

He went back down and made some food for his son whilst Derek kissed his wife and then his son lightly on the forehead. Then Derek explained that he had to go to the Sheffield office tomorrow. “I may have to stay over. I know, I know, I’m really sorry. Can’t be helped. I’ll make it up to you.” Elizabeth knew he meant it, and knew he wouldn’t. He was the eternal salesman, any promise only means something until it can deliver nothing more.

That night, Elizabeth was up twice. Derek slept through. David got up. “Here, let me warm up one of the bottles.”

“Well...”

“At least see if he settles.” he said. He warmed the bottle; and then took Daniel, who started to whimper as his teat of milky goodness was removed. Next he was happily sucking on the bottle instead.

“Hmm, what a turncoat.” she smiled. “You sure?”

“I’ll bring him up later. You can feed him in the morning.”

“I’ll need to ... my tits will explode otherwise. Thanks.” She laughed to herself. Who could have guessed that she would feel comfortable saying ‘tits’ to her father-in-law when she couldn’t say boobs or breasts even to her own mother.

Baby Daniel just carried on sucking as his mother crept away. Fifteen minutes later the baby drifted off to a happy sleep, and his grandfather drifted off too. Both had a broad smile as the baby nestled into his chest and David wrapped his arms around the baby unconscious that he was breaking the latest advice on how to bring babies up.

They slept long and comfortably. The baby dreamt of nestling comfortably in a womb; the man dreamt of his wife lying on him. Both were happy with their own dreams.

“DAD! Dad! You can’t sleep with a baby on your chest! I know you did that with me, but what if you rolled on him? Or what if Danny turned and suffocated. Or -”

“Derek, he’s fine. HoooO! He needs changing though, Maybe take him up and change him and give him to Elizabeth to feed.”

“Yes, yes of course. Oh Shit! Look at the time, I have to be in Sheffield. I ... Oh look I’ll do this first. Bugger! I’ll ring and say I’ll be late for the call. Maybe it’ll be okay.” He knew precisely what he was doing. He put a guilt trip on his own father and sure enough, David went and changed the stinky baby and Derek slipped away.

“Oh, ohh! You really are disgusting aren’t you? Imagine if I just shat in my pants whenever I felt like it.” He smiled and laughed and cooed at the baby, who smiled and laughed and cooed back. “Oh, well, I guess in twenty years, maybe I will, and you’ll have to change me. Serve you right, won’t it. He made silly noises on the baby’s stomach and then dressed him.

“Hi Dad, just going. Look shall I take him in?” Derek picked him up and carried his son in “Lizzie? Lizzie? You awake. Here’s Danny.”

“Oh? Is he changed?”

“Yes, all clean. Have to go, sorry. Kiss kiss.” and he was gone.

David went into the guest room, undressed and fell into bed, he had had four hours sleep since feeding Daniel, he was still tired.

Elizabeth fed the baby, and gently put him down to sleep. Then she found the milking machine and filled a couple of bottles. She looked in on David, he was sleeping. She smiled, and felt her boobs still ready to release a little more. “I wonder?” She moved nearer him, she was tired too. Before she could stop herself she slipped into the bed beside him and curled around him. He turned, still asleep and pulled the woman to him. He murmured a name “Katie.” with a smile and hugged her. She could feel, in his sleep, a hard rod against her loins. She hadn’t had sex since Daniel was born. Derek had not wanted to – not where the baby had come out - and neither had she – she was sore for some time -, now she realised that she missed it.

“Oh? OH! I’m sorry, I...” David had woken and found his hand on her leaking breast.

“It’s not your fault. Would you mind? It’s only been an hour and I’m uncomfortable. He won’t wake for at least another hour. Oh, it was lovely to sleep last night. And Derek even cleaned up Daniel this morning.” She noticed her father-in-law’s face. “At least that’s what I understood. He didn’t, did he?