Babyville Page 0,123
desperation etched on her forehead, knowing that this woman won't be scared off by premature offerings of friendship.
“It's nice to meet you, Sam.” The woman extends her hand and Sam shakes it firmly. “I'm Maeve.”
“I could not believe it,” she squeals to Chris when he comes home. “I mean, what was I supposed to have said?” Just because Chris was not her soulmate, and she'd buggered up her marriage slightly by marrying the wrong man, did not mean that they couldn't be friends, and Sam was itching to gossip with someone.
The only people other than Chris in whom she could confide were Julia and Bella, and Julia, obviously, wasn't exactly an option at this point. She would have been a wonderful option had Sam hated Maeve, and had she been able to phone Julia and tell her she'd met the ghastly Maeve and listen to what a bitch she is, and my God she's so ugly, she's positively evil, but of course she couldn't say any of that.
She could have told Bella, but Bella and Julia are now practically joined at the hip, and the problem with threesomes is that, no matter how good everyone's intentions, one invariably ends up being left out, and unfortunately, thanks to geography, that someone appears to be Sam. She's not about to go confiding in Bella when there's a very strong chance Bella will blurt everything out to Julia. Secrets, have, in any case, never been Bella's strong point.
“Did you tell her you knew who she was?”
“Oh God,” Sam groaned. “It was just awful. I wanted to tell her because she was so nice, but I just sort of went a bit white and speechless, and when she wanted to know what was the matter I told her I just had a hot flush.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked if I was pregnant again.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said unlikely unless it was the Immaculate Conception.”
Chris takes Sam's hand and looks into her eyes with his most seductive smile. “There was the other night, so that's not strictly true. And we can always have a repeat performance now if you'd like.”
“Don't be silly.” She shakes his hand off as if he were a naughty child. “The point is that I feel terrible. What am I going to say to Julia?”
“Why do you have to say anything to Julia?” Chris's voice is harder now, he was hurt by her rebuff, her constant rejection of him.
“Julia's my best friend.”
“But this is just some woman you met at a coffee shop,” he says irritably. “I don't understand why you're in such a state about it. What is the big deal?”
Sam sighs. “The big deal, Chris, is that I liked her. I thought we could be friends.”
“You still can be.”
“But what do I tell Julia?”
“Why tell Julia anything?”
“Because she's my best friend.”
Chris can no longer hide the exasperation in his voice. “What are you so scared of? For God's sake, Sam! You've been banging on for months about how lonely you are and how boring it is looking after a baby all day and how much you miss Julia because now you haven't got a best friend and you never realized before how much you need a best friend, and now you finally meet someone who could potentially be a new friend, and you're not going to pursue it because you're frightened of what your old best friend might say? How old are you? Six?
“And maybe, just maybe,” he continues, fed up with containing his frustration, “you're happy being on your own. Maybe you've been bored and lonely because it's easier to feel sorry for yourself when your life is dull, and it's easy to make other people feel sorry for you. Far easier than making the effort to get up, go out and meet people.”
“You bastard,” she hisses. “You have absolutely no idea what my life is like. You have no idea because you get to leave every day. You're not the one who's expected to do all the housework, and look after George, and cook, and have a life at the same time. How dare you accuse me of being a . . . a victim”—she spits the word out—“when you haven't stood in my shoes. How dare you.” She's so angry she's almost in tears. Angry and humiliated. Because of course she knows he's right.
“Victim,” Chris ponders, just before he walks out to go and read the papers in the other room, to try to calm