Babyville Page 0,108

is a kind word, a loving look, an affectionate kiss, but instead he is faced with anger. With exasperation. With indifference.

Chris is trying his best. He has offered to get up with George, and occasionally Sam has let him, but he doesn't seem to have the same knack, and Sam invariably appears in the doorway, looking pissed off, and takes George out of his arms. If it weren't for the fact that George immediately quieted down in his mother's arms, Chris would be furious.

Apart from quieting his son, there are other things Chris is, apparently, hopeless at. He can't make a bottle in the right way (too little powder or too much); heat the bottle to the right temperature (it's either boiling or too cold); change a diaper properly (doesn't do it up tightly enough); feed him in the right way (“For God's sake, Chris, you need to be quicker than that or he'll start screaming'') or give him a bath (“And what planet are you living on?'').

And so he doesn't offer anymore, which prompts Sam to shout that she's the only one doing anything in this bloody house. It's a no-win situation.

For once, the house smells delicious. It smells like the old days. He knows that smell, the smell of onions gently sautéing in butter. His heart lifts as he considers this unexpected surprise. Could tonight be the night when he gets the old Sam back? Will she have made a delicious dinner for him? Could they restore some of the magic they seem to have lost?

He walks into the kitchen to find Sam standing at the sink, washing up.

“Hi, darling.” He kisses the back of her neck. “George in bed?”

“You know he goes to bed at quarter to seven. Where else do you think he'd be?”

Chris decides to ignore the curt tone. He's fed up with arguing. Tonight he just wants to enjoy the evening. “Is he asleep? Can I go in and say goodnight?”

“No. Sorry. Once he's in bed you know what he's like. If he sees you he'll start screaming again when you leave. You can get him up in the morning, though.”

“Yeah. I will. Is your mother coming over tomorrow?”

“Yup,” Sam says, nodding. “She said she'd take him out for the day.”

“You mean, and leave us together? Just the two of us? Freedom?”

“I know.” Sam grins, and for a minute they have a glimpse of the old Sam and Chris, of how well they can actually get on. “Isn't it fantastic? What are we going to do?”

“I know what I'd like to do.” Chris grins, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close, nuzzling into her neck.

“Oh, Chris.” She pushes him away in exasperation.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh, Chris'? It's been ages.”

Sam wants to argue that they had sex last week, but she knows Chris will say that for them, that's ages, and she can't be bothered to have a fight. “Okay,” she says, her heart not in it, although she figures she can always manufacture a headache or a period tomorrow morning. “Apart from that, what are we going to do?”

Chris lets her go and walks out to the hallway to hang up his coat. “What did we use to do on a Saturday BG?”

“Jesus. I can't remember! Did we actually have a life BG?”

“I'm not sure, but I know there are photos around here that prove we did.”

“So what did we do? Seriously.”

“Shopping?”

“Sometimes,” she agrees, remembering their occasional sojourns to Portobello, meandering down the road looking at antiques they couldn't possibly afford, stopping for a cappuccino and a couple of pastries on Golborne Road on the way home. Although it really wasn't that often. Not more than four times a year, come to think of it.

“Walks on the Heath?” Chris offers.

“Nope. That's definitely post–George. We used to talk about going for walks on the Heath a lot, but I'm not sure we ever actually bothered.”

“Well, Saturday mornings were never an option really. We always had a lie-in after a Friday night.”

“True.” And then Sam remembers. She remembers waking up late-morning and snuggling into Chris, covering his back with kisses to wake him. She remembers him rolling over and drawing her close with an arm heavy with sleep. They'd lie for a while like that, and then slowly Chris would open his eyes, pull her closer for a kiss.

They would have lovely, languorous sex. And afterward Chris would have a shower, she would jump in the bath, and they would drive up