Babyville Page 0,114

the bath, almost entirely submerged in misery and unhappiness and depression, Sam decided that this was exactly what she'd done. That when she got married at Chelsea Register Office, she took him for better or worse, but was pretty damn certain it would get better: All he needed was a good woman behind him. All he needed was Sam.

Perhaps, she thought, her own career provided the mitigating circumstances for his. Sam was, after all, at the forefront of the graphic design world, her designs in almost every household in the country, her salary more than enough for the three of them.

It had never seemed that important when she was working. She had always assumed that at some point Chris would fulfill his potential, and even if it took longer than she had thought, it wouldn't really matter because they had everything they could possibly need. The only time it would be a problem would be if they had a family, but even then they would find a way to cope.

And she had thought they had.

Sam and Chris had sat down when she first discovered she was pregnant, and had looked at their finances. They had looked at how much money they could afford to put away each month, and had decided that although it would be difficult, if Sam decided not to go back to work full time (as she had already decided), they could just about manage, provided she found some freelance work.

Sam had spoken to some design consultancies, and had been assured of plenty of work when she decided to start again. They had in truth all been desperate for her to work for them, and all are waiting for Sam to contact them when she decides she is ready.

If she decides she is ready.

The truth is Sam has never felt less ready for anything in her life.

She had said this to Julia already this evening, before the conversation moved on to Chris; before Sam admitted her marriage was over. She had told Julia of her fears, of how ridiculous she felt, expecting Chris to provide when she had always been such a staunch feminist, but had shrugged and said she never expected motherhood to be so wonderful, had never expected not to want to go back to work.

Although perhaps Sam is scared of going back to work. Perhaps there is more to this than merely motherhood. If anyone can see this, Julia can, Julia who knows Sam better than anyone, Julia who is shocked to hear Sam's fears about her marriage.

“You don't think,” Julia says tentatively, and somewhat wisely, given that she is not a mother herself (although she has read every book ever published on babies), “you might be suffering slight postpartum depression?”

“Don't be ridiculous. What on earth makes you say that?”

Julia thinks how different Sam is now, how the light seems to have gone out in her life. She thinks about the anxiety that seems to afflict Sam constantly about George: She reluctantly admitted to Julia that every time she walks down the stairs with George she imagines the horror of tripping and dropping him; that when she walks down the street she's convinced a car will hit them; that she no longer reads the newspapers, because every story about a baby being harmed feels like George is being harmed, and she found herself sobbing for hours about these children that were, and were not, George.

And Julia knows how isolated Sam is, how desperate she is for company, yet how difficult she finds it to leave her house. She knows all of this, yet she does not know how to say this without risking their friendship, because Sam is in no fit state to hear it.

“I just think you don't seem like yourself right now, you seem a bit down. I thought maybe you could go and see someone.”

“Absolutely not,” Sam snorts, exactly as Julia knew she would. “I've got a gorgeous baby and I'm absolutely fine. The only problem I've got is Chris, and although I'm not planning on walking just this instant, I can't see this marriage lasting out the year.”

“Are you really that unhappy?” Julia's voice is filled with sadness.

“Julia, you have absolutely no idea. I never thought I could be this lonely or this miserable with another person. The only thing that keeps me going is that there's always divorce.” She gives a resigned sigh. “That it is just a question of picking the right moment.”

And then there is a silence.