Learning Curve: Chapter Thirty-Three
The nurse put a reassuring hand on Noel’s shaking shoulder.
“He’s just sleeping. They’ve taken your daughter away very briefly to clean her up a bit, don’t worry, you’ll see her soon.”
“My daughter-“ Noel’s breath caught in his throat, “My daughter.”
“A beautiful little girl,” The nurse re-iterated with a smile. He walked out just as Russell began to stir. He winced, eyes still shut, one hand drifting to his bandaged stomach. Noel took a step forward and picked up Russell’s hand.
“Hey, Russell… sweetheart, I’m here…”
“Noel?” He muttered blearily.
“Yeah,” Noel smiled, his eyes welling up with tears.
Russell slowly wriggled up into a half-sitting position.
“Why are you crying?” He said hushedly, “What happened? Where’s… did I..?” He was suddenly stricken with terror. Noel gripped his hand tighter.
“No, no, no- they’ve just taken her to clean her up and sort out all the stuff about the case, I think- she’s fine. I haven’t seen her yet either.”
“Her?”
“Yes.”
Russell flung himself onto Noel.
“I love you, Noel. Thank you so much for this. You’ve- you’ve made me so, so… my God, I’m so happy!”
“I love you too, Russ,” Noel replied into the younger man’s hair, “But I’m afraid someone new is about to capture my heart… look.”
Russell Brand never forgot the moment his tiny baby daughter was first placed gently into his arms. Tiny pink fists, a little wrist with the plastic identity band of “[unnamed] baby Brand”, a yellow wool blanket wrapped around her miniature body. Her button nose sniffing, her eyes shut and edged with sleep. He kissed her, and the world began.
*
Matt Morgan was astounded.
“Oh my God, Russell… wow. She’s incredible.”
He was leaning over the cot beside Russell’s bed, as the baby slept away. Russell smiled weakly, propped up on the cushions, still exhausted.
“She looks just like you,” Matt said. Russell made a gagging noise. “I mean like you did when you were a baby! I don’t think she’s quite managed the hair or the beard yet, Russ.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she looks like you!” Dee piped up from where she’d been stood, playing with the buttons that lowered, heightened and tilted Russell’s bed.
“What do you mean?” Matt asked, turning around.
She looked around the room as if to check for spies, and then said in a stage whisper.
“Noel’s nose.”
Matt laughed, and Russell tried to keep a straight face.
“Oi, get off my fiancee’s facial features, you little slattern! He’s gorgeous and you know it!”
“But on a baby’s face, you know it’d be frightening!” Matt grinned.
“Oh, shut up, both of you,” Russell smirked, “You are just jealous.”
“Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt!” Dee trilled. The baby wriggled and made a little squeaking noise.
“Hey, hush!” Russell hissed jovially to Dee. She put a finger to her lips.
“She is so beautiful,” she said, stepping closer to the crib, resting her hand on the edge. She met eyes with Matt and a smile danced on her lips. He nodded. “So, Russell, do you think I look fat in this top?” she asked, pulling the black top she was in tight against her stomach. He blinked, head on one side.
“You would only ask that if you were preggers my darling, so in answer: you look like you were trapped in Greggs for a fortnight and congratulations, you crazy breeders!”
Matt took hold of Dee’s hand.
“Just think, Russell, you two can discuss babies and have Mum’s coffee mornings! “
“Ooh, yes!” Dee enthused, “What type of nappies are best and whether they’re teething, and weight loss tips!”
Matt stole a glance at Russell, worrying if the joke would dig too deep.
“Lord, I could use some of those. They weighed me yesterday, horrible business, of all the weight I gained when I was pregnant; I’ve only lost about a third of it. It’s going to be lovely fun getting rid of that.”
“You don’t need to though, do you Russ, “ Matt reasoned, “Not yet anyway, if ever. You look fine- you look brilliant actually. Slow down, you’ve just had a baby! I mean, I’m putting on weight as well, but unlike you two, I haven’t got an offspring in my womb to account for it!”
“You don’t look any different mate,” Russell replied, “You look as handsome as ever. Wouldn’t you agree, Delia?”
“Mmm, and more,” She murmured, running her hands through his hair as she popped up on the balls of her feet to plant a kiss on his slightly open mouth. When they broke apart, Matt turned to Russell.
“You still gonna call her Silver?”
“No,” he replied, “Gold.”
There was a pause.
“Really?” Dee asked, trying to sound more interested than incredulous. Russell held her gaze for a few moments, then laughed.
“No! Well, not really. We’re going to call her Aurelia. It’s from the Latin aurum, meaning gold.”
“Aw! That’s gorgeous!” Dee exclaimed.
“Yeah, mate, that is really nice,” Matt agreed.
Russell winked.
“Language! I likes it!”
*
“Oh, Russell, she’s just like a little doll!” Sharon breathed. Aurelia was awake but quiet, having just been fed.
“You want to dress her up, don’t you Shaz?” He teased.
“No, I- aw, Russ, I just wanna carry her around in my pocket!”
“Please don’t,” he advised, “I take her home tomorrow and I’d like Noel and I to spend some time with her before we start to pass her around random stylists!”
“Oh, Russ,” she leant down to kiss his cheek, “Congratulations.”
*
Morrissey stepped into the warmth of the restaurant and scanned it briefly, his eyes falling on where a man was sat with his back to him, gently pushing an elaborately decorated, cream coloured pram backwards and forwards. Morrissey swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling unusually dry. He tried to shake off the feeling of nervousness, only half managing but beginning to make his way over to the table. Russell turned around, his hair tumbling about his shoulders in loose, natural curls, and Morrissey was slightly, pleasantly taken aback. Russell’s skin was clean and bright, his face shaven, a far cry from the from the pale, bloated and miserable-looking Russell who had plastered the tabloids the day he was discharged, with Noel’s arm coiled protectively around his shoulders and the baby clutched to his chest in many blankets, hidden from the blinding bulbs of the paparazzi. Russell rose to greet his friend.
“Morrissey,” he smiled after a quick, one-armed hug, “How are you?”
“No complaints, Russell. And yourself? I have to say, you look-splendid.”
Russell beamed.
“Thank you- I feel… really well, I really do.”
“And how is she?” Morrissey asked, looking at the pram.
“Would you like to hold her?” Russell offered. Morrissey seemed startled.
“Well, if she’s sleeping, I wouldn’t want to wake her-“
“No, no, it’s about time I woke her anyway.” He seated himself again, pulling at the fleece cover spread across the top of the pram carriage. “Aurelia? Time to wake up, my little sleepyhead…” he murmured. He slowly lifted his daughter out of the pram, holding her against his chest. Morrissey watched the tiny girl stir, mesmerised. Her dark fluffy hair stood up in clumps off her little head, her tiny hands clasping fistfuls of her father’s navy blue shirt. She sniffled then opened her eyes, wide spheres of a hypnotic ocean-blue, fixed straight at Morrissey; this new face, this intruder into her internal bank of people.
“Who would have known that you could produce something, something so…?” Morrissey said quietly, the joke falling over itself before he’d finished it. Russell wordlessly placed Aurelia into Morrissey’s arms. He drew her closer up to his chest, brushing a little curl off her forehead. “Russell,” he breathed, “She is beautiful.”
Russell stayed quiet, watching the look of absolute wonder on the older man’s face.
“Hello, Miss. Fielding-Brand, I’ll call you Aurelia if I may? My name is Morrissey. Your father has spent about twenty years of his life obsessing over me. In fact, you probably heard my voice singing on a CD whilst you were still growing inside of him. I’m very pleased to meet you.” He held out a finger, which she grasped in her palm, and shook her hand dutifully. Russell laughed,
“Moz, you’d make such a good Dad,”
And suddenly, Morrissey was twenty-five years ago.
*
“He’s just sleeping. They’ve taken your daughter away very briefly to clean her up a bit, don’t worry, you’ll see her soon.”
“My daughter-“ Noel’s breath caught in his throat, “My daughter.”
“A beautiful little girl,” The nurse re-iterated with a smile. He walked out just as Russell began to stir. He winced, eyes still shut, one hand drifting to his bandaged stomach. Noel took a step forward and picked up Russell’s hand.
“Hey, Russell… sweetheart, I’m here…”
“Noel?” He muttered blearily.
“Yeah,” Noel smiled, his eyes welling up with tears.
Russell slowly wriggled up into a half-sitting position.
“Why are you crying?” He said hushedly, “What happened? Where’s… did I..?” He was suddenly stricken with terror. Noel gripped his hand tighter.
“No, no, no- they’ve just taken her to clean her up and sort out all the stuff about the case, I think- she’s fine. I haven’t seen her yet either.”
“Her?”
“Yes.”
Russell flung himself onto Noel.
“I love you, Noel. Thank you so much for this. You’ve- you’ve made me so, so… my God, I’m so happy!”
“I love you too, Russ,” Noel replied into the younger man’s hair, “But I’m afraid someone new is about to capture my heart… look.”
Russell Brand never forgot the moment his tiny baby daughter was first placed gently into his arms. Tiny pink fists, a little wrist with the plastic identity band of “[unnamed] baby Brand”, a yellow wool blanket wrapped around her miniature body. Her button nose sniffing, her eyes shut and edged with sleep. He kissed her, and the world began.
*
Matt Morgan was astounded.
“Oh my God, Russell… wow. She’s incredible.”
He was leaning over the cot beside Russell’s bed, as the baby slept away. Russell smiled weakly, propped up on the cushions, still exhausted.
“She looks just like you,” Matt said. Russell made a gagging noise. “I mean like you did when you were a baby! I don’t think she’s quite managed the hair or the beard yet, Russ.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she looks like you!” Dee piped up from where she’d been stood, playing with the buttons that lowered, heightened and tilted Russell’s bed.
“What do you mean?” Matt asked, turning around.
She looked around the room as if to check for spies, and then said in a stage whisper.
“Noel’s nose.”
Matt laughed, and Russell tried to keep a straight face.
“Oi, get off my fiancee’s facial features, you little slattern! He’s gorgeous and you know it!”
“But on a baby’s face, you know it’d be frightening!” Matt grinned.
“Oh, shut up, both of you,” Russell smirked, “You are just jealous.”
“Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt!” Dee trilled. The baby wriggled and made a little squeaking noise.
“Hey, hush!” Russell hissed jovially to Dee. She put a finger to her lips.
“She is so beautiful,” she said, stepping closer to the crib, resting her hand on the edge. She met eyes with Matt and a smile danced on her lips. He nodded. “So, Russell, do you think I look fat in this top?” she asked, pulling the black top she was in tight against her stomach. He blinked, head on one side.
“You would only ask that if you were preggers my darling, so in answer: you look like you were trapped in Greggs for a fortnight and congratulations, you crazy breeders!”
Matt took hold of Dee’s hand.
“Just think, Russell, you two can discuss babies and have Mum’s coffee mornings! “
“Ooh, yes!” Dee enthused, “What type of nappies are best and whether they’re teething, and weight loss tips!”
Matt stole a glance at Russell, worrying if the joke would dig too deep.
“Lord, I could use some of those. They weighed me yesterday, horrible business, of all the weight I gained when I was pregnant; I’ve only lost about a third of it. It’s going to be lovely fun getting rid of that.”
“You don’t need to though, do you Russ, “ Matt reasoned, “Not yet anyway, if ever. You look fine- you look brilliant actually. Slow down, you’ve just had a baby! I mean, I’m putting on weight as well, but unlike you two, I haven’t got an offspring in my womb to account for it!”
“You don’t look any different mate,” Russell replied, “You look as handsome as ever. Wouldn’t you agree, Delia?”
“Mmm, and more,” She murmured, running her hands through his hair as she popped up on the balls of her feet to plant a kiss on his slightly open mouth. When they broke apart, Matt turned to Russell.
“You still gonna call her Silver?”
“No,” he replied, “Gold.”
There was a pause.
“Really?” Dee asked, trying to sound more interested than incredulous. Russell held her gaze for a few moments, then laughed.
“No! Well, not really. We’re going to call her Aurelia. It’s from the Latin aurum, meaning gold.”
“Aw! That’s gorgeous!” Dee exclaimed.
“Yeah, mate, that is really nice,” Matt agreed.
Russell winked.
“Language! I likes it!”
*
“Oh, Russell, she’s just like a little doll!” Sharon breathed. Aurelia was awake but quiet, having just been fed.
“You want to dress her up, don’t you Shaz?” He teased.
“No, I- aw, Russ, I just wanna carry her around in my pocket!”
“Please don’t,” he advised, “I take her home tomorrow and I’d like Noel and I to spend some time with her before we start to pass her around random stylists!”
“Oh, Russ,” she leant down to kiss his cheek, “Congratulations.”
*
Morrissey stepped into the warmth of the restaurant and scanned it briefly, his eyes falling on where a man was sat with his back to him, gently pushing an elaborately decorated, cream coloured pram backwards and forwards. Morrissey swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling unusually dry. He tried to shake off the feeling of nervousness, only half managing but beginning to make his way over to the table. Russell turned around, his hair tumbling about his shoulders in loose, natural curls, and Morrissey was slightly, pleasantly taken aback. Russell’s skin was clean and bright, his face shaven, a far cry from the from the pale, bloated and miserable-looking Russell who had plastered the tabloids the day he was discharged, with Noel’s arm coiled protectively around his shoulders and the baby clutched to his chest in many blankets, hidden from the blinding bulbs of the paparazzi. Russell rose to greet his friend.
“Morrissey,” he smiled after a quick, one-armed hug, “How are you?”
“No complaints, Russell. And yourself? I have to say, you look-splendid.”
Russell beamed.
“Thank you- I feel… really well, I really do.”
“And how is she?” Morrissey asked, looking at the pram.
“Would you like to hold her?” Russell offered. Morrissey seemed startled.
“Well, if she’s sleeping, I wouldn’t want to wake her-“
“No, no, it’s about time I woke her anyway.” He seated himself again, pulling at the fleece cover spread across the top of the pram carriage. “Aurelia? Time to wake up, my little sleepyhead…” he murmured. He slowly lifted his daughter out of the pram, holding her against his chest. Morrissey watched the tiny girl stir, mesmerised. Her dark fluffy hair stood up in clumps off her little head, her tiny hands clasping fistfuls of her father’s navy blue shirt. She sniffled then opened her eyes, wide spheres of a hypnotic ocean-blue, fixed straight at Morrissey; this new face, this intruder into her internal bank of people.
“Who would have known that you could produce something, something so…?” Morrissey said quietly, the joke falling over itself before he’d finished it. Russell wordlessly placed Aurelia into Morrissey’s arms. He drew her closer up to his chest, brushing a little curl off her forehead. “Russell,” he breathed, “She is beautiful.”
Russell stayed quiet, watching the look of absolute wonder on the older man’s face.
“Hello, Miss. Fielding-Brand, I’ll call you Aurelia if I may? My name is Morrissey. Your father has spent about twenty years of his life obsessing over me. In fact, you probably heard my voice singing on a CD whilst you were still growing inside of him. I’m very pleased to meet you.” He held out a finger, which she grasped in her palm, and shook her hand dutifully. Russell laughed,
“Moz, you’d make such a good Dad,”
And suddenly, Morrissey was twenty-five years ago.
*