Ruby was born in June 2012.
Claire rang after the birth. She sounded tired and direct, which was reassuring because it sounded like Claire.
Alan and I visited when she was ready. Simon met us and gave an account of the previous day that included times, decisions and several details Claire later corrected.
Ruby was asleep when I first saw her. She had dark hair and one hand against the side of her face. I stood beside the cot and waited for Claire to say I could pick her up.
‘You can hold her, Mum.’
‘I know.’
‘You’re waiting.’
‘I’m being polite.’
Claire showed me how she wanted Ruby supported before handing her over. I had raised two babies, but the instructions had changed since 1989 and Claire had read all of them.
Alan said, ‘Your mother knows how to hold a baby.’
Claire replied, ‘She knows how she held babies twenty-six years ago.’
I accepted the briefing.
Ruby was lighter than I expected. I remembered Claire at the same age, though the memory was made from several different days. I could not have said which expression belonged to the first week and which belonged later.
Alan held Ruby next. He sat down before Claire asked him to and kept both hands in the approved position.
‘See,’ he said. ‘Trainable.’
Becoming a grandmother did not make me feel older in the way people had warned me. Claire was still my daughter, and now she was deciding when the baby slept, who visited and which advice would be ignored.
I tried not to give advice unless she asked.
This lasted until feeding was mentioned.
Claire looked at me.
I stopped.
In the weeks that followed, we visited, brought food and held Ruby while Claire showered or slept. Alan became good at walking around the room with her. I became good at leaving when Claire had had enough company.
At home, we discussed what Ruby might call us. Alan said he did not mind. I said the same, then rejected two suggestions.
For the moment, we were Grandma and Grandad when Claire spoke to Ruby on our behalf. We answered to both names.