Babyville Page 0,117
a moment's notice. And while he wouldn't change George for the world, he knows that something has to change, and the only thing he can think of right now is to try to force Sam out into the real world.
The more she isolates herself, the more withdrawn and sullen she becomes, and the only moments of brightness are when she is reminded of her old life: when Julia phones and he hears Sam's laughter pierce the air and roll down the stairs, unnaturally sharp and bright now that he so rarely hears it. When she forgets to hate him, and decides, for those brief pockets of time, that Chris is still the man she married, the man she loves.
And today Jill walked into his office, Jill who doesn't seem to have changed at all, who is the mother of fourteen-month-old Lily, who is as warm, and funny, and as charming as she has always been.
She is a breath of fresh air.
“Okay.” Sam accepts the invitation when she is unable to think of a suitable excuse. She is reluctant not because she no longer wishes to meet Jill, but because she feels so inadequate. Seven and a half months on, pregnancy is beginning to sound like rather a lame excuse for the excess twenty pounds. Half her hair has disappeared down the drain, much to her shock and disgust, but she has refused to get it cut, hanging on to her long curls as a memento of the girl she was before George, the girl she plans to be again.
She puts the phone down wondering whether it is possible to lose ten to fifteen pounds in just over a week, and whether she is likely to squeeze into a size 12 at Warehouse (very generously cut, don't you know), or whether she could breathe new life into her maternity leggings that are starting to wear dangerously thin on the inner thighs.
Chris puts the phone down and tells Jill the good news. She claps her hands together, excited.
“I'm dying to meet Sam. I can't believe we've been hearing about one another for all these years, and now you're all finally coming over. And I'm going to meet that delicious little George. Tell me, do you love him more than anything?”
Chris's eyes light up for the first time that day as he thinks about George, and it is only then that Jill really notices the difference, notices how flat he is the rest of the time.
“Are you okay, Chris?”
“Sure.” They have a professional relationship, potentially the beginnings of a real friendship, but there's no way he knows Jill well enough to confide in her. Until now perhaps. “Tell me something,” he says, unable to stop himself, looking at her with interest, because Jill's daughter is only six months older than George, and yet she looks fantastic, looks exactly as she always has done, only better. Softer. “How do you manage to look so fantastic when you have a baby, how do you manage to cope so well, to still be exactly the same person you were before?''
“Why?” Jill asks gently. Flattered, but concerned. Chris just shrugs and smiles. “The first few months were impossible,” she says slowly, trying to judge from Chris's expression what tone of voice to use, what to say to make him feel better. His interest is piqued, and she continues in what she hopes is the right vein, because it is not something she admits to everyone. “I was exhausted. Depressed. Lonely. Resentful.”
“How did you pull yourself out of it?” Chris interrupts, wanting to hear all the answers now, wanting an instant panacea to his own unhappiness, his own depression, loneliness, and resentment.
Jill shrugs. “I couldn't even pinpoint when it actually happened. I think slowly, after about eight or nine months, things just started to get better. I found that I wasn't so tired, I wasn't so angry, and because I felt more human I started to go out and make the effort again. It helped that Lily started sleeping around then, but also I reached a point where I couldn't do it all by myself. I got part-time help, and for two and a half days a week I was given my life back. I adore Lily. She is the most wonderful thing in my life, but I needed something for me.”
“That's what I've been trying to tell Sam,” Chris says sadly.
“She's going through the same thing?”
“Exactly the same thing. She's not the same person I married but