Babyville Page 0,5
that I need to put on weight,” and with that the pair of them start laughing.
Sam has always been cuddly. She is a mass of blond curls, a tiny waist, and a bottom and thighs that could well have inspired Rubens. But what Julia loves most about Sam is how much Sam loves herself. She has none of the self-doubt we are so used to hearing from women in these times of aspirational skinniness. Sam never asks anyone if she looks fat, or if that skirt is unflattering, or if the heels make her legs look longer.
Sam loves the fact that she's voluptuous, and is loving her pregnancy more than any woman Julia has ever seen. The first thing she did when she discovered she was “with child” was dash out and buy What to Expect When You're Expecting. The second was to rip out the chapter about the “Best Odds Diet.”
“Bloody Americans,” she said, tearing out each page, crumpling it up with relish as she lobbed it into the bin in the corner. “They're all food obsessed. God, this is the one time in your life when you're allowed to eat whatever the hell you want, so bollocks to this. As for putting on no more than twenty-eight pounds, Jesus, I think I put that on in the first twelve weeks.”
“So go on, how much have you put on now?” Julia asked.
“No clue. I stopped weighing myself after four weeks. Can't be bothered.”
And now Sam is almost entirely round. Rather like a Weeble, she wobbles but she doesn't fall down. And still she looks gorgeous. She is one of those lucky women who don't suffer from spots or lank hair while pregnant. Her skin is smooth and clear, her hair is thick, lustrous, and ever-growing.
“Jesus, don't think I'm lucky,” she said a couple of weeks ago, when someone at the hospital, another woman waiting to see the midwife, had commented how gorgeous her hair was, how lucky she was that it grew so quickly. “As quickly as it's growing on my head it's growing everywhere else on my body,” Sam had said, rolling her eyes. “I've got a jungle on my legs that only gets waxed when I go to the hospital because I don't want the midwives gossiping, and as for my beard . . .”
Sam's not a natural blonde, and consequently states that were she to be stranded on a desert island for approximately a month, any ship that happened to be passing would simply carry on, unaware that the gorilla waving its arms around under the palm trees was actually Sam.
But no one has ever seen this beard. “Look, look,” she says to Julia, as she often does on a regular basis, craning her neck up and pointing to what looks like nothing.
“I still can't see anything.”
“Okay, feel, feel,” and she grabs Julia's finger and strokes it under her chin, which is when Julia has to concede that she can feel the slightest, but only the very slightest, beginnings of stubble.
“That's the only thing I hate about pregnancy,” Sam sighs. “The bloody hair growth.”
“What about piles?” Julia shoots her an evil grin.
“Oh shit. Did I tell you that?” Sam looks embarrassed as Julia nods.
“That doesn't even bother me that much,” she says. “I go into Boots and bulk buy Anusol, telling them it's for my husband.”
“I don't suppose Chris ever goes in there.”
“Only on a Saturday and they've got different staff in on the weekend, so no one asks him how his hemorrhoids are doing.”
“Yeah, but Sam, piles are expected during pregnancy, it's not exactly embarrassing.”
“Yes, it is. Embarrassing and itchy.”
“Okay, okay. Just a little bit of oversharing there, thank you. Tell me about work.”
Sam is a graphic designer. You might well buy tins of her soup regularly. It sounds like a glamorous job, but she finds it boring and dull, and not at all creative, not for someone as talented as Sam.
Away from her work she is inspired. Those cushions on the sofa? Sam made them. The beautiful simple blinds with the tiny leaf motifs at the bottom? Sam made them. Those stunning Rothko-esque oils lining the hallway? Right again.
Although she would never admit it, much as Julia wants this baby to heal her relationship with Mark, Sam wanted an excuse to leave her job, and more than that wanted to prove that she would be better at mothering than her own—unavailable—mother.
Sam and Julia had long talked about having babies. Said how fantastic it would