Page 35 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
She frowns and walks towards me, a look of disbelief on herface.
‘You were on the village green, remember? With George?’
‘George.’ With a little cry, she reaches into the pram andlifts him out, holding him on her shoulder and rocking him gently.
‘Come on. Let’s get you inside.’ I take the key from her andwheel the pram to the front door. Once inside, she seems to snap out of herdaze, giving me George while she collapses the pram.
Walking up the stairs to her first-floor flat, she glancesback at me. ‘Thank you, Martha. Would you like some tea?’
‘That would be nice. I’ll make it if you want to get George settled.’
She shakes her head firmly. ‘No, no, I can manage.’
But once we’re inside, I can immediately see that she’s notmanaging at all. The place is a complete mess, with things lying on everysurface and dirty crockery filling the sink and covering every counter in thekitchen. I’m not exactly the tidiest person in the world – far from it – buteven I would be hard pushed to function properly in a flat like this. Theredon’t even seem to be any clean cups. So I tell her to get George settled andshe goes off obediently, while I roll up my sleeves, run the hot water tap andstart tackling the pile of washing-up.
‘I’m fine. Completely fine,’ she insists, when I find her inthe living room, staring out of the window, and I ask her how she’s coping.
I hand her a mug of tea. ‘Are you sure?’ I ask gently. ‘Imean, no one would blame you for being a little overwhelmed by the whole newmum thing. I’m sure I’d be exactly the same. George is a little darling butfrom what I’ve heard, new babies arevery hard work.’
‘Yes, but I should be able to cope.’ She turns to me with astricken look. ‘I thought it would be easy, Martha, because I was so excited tomeet him. I couldn’t wait for him to be born. But it’s...it’s so hard and the worst thing of all is that I’m a rubbish mum. Sam keepssaying I’m not and he does what he can, but he works so hard and he’s alwaysaway seeing clients. He’s starting to go off me, I know he is, because I can’teven keep the place tidy and he comes home and he has to do everything...and oh, Martha, I just hate my life. But I hate myself even more.’
She breaks down completely then, sobbing in my arms as I tryto soothe her and tell her that of course she’s not a rubbish mum and thateverything will be okay.
‘But he’ll be back soon and the place is a mess,’ she wails.
‘We could tidy up a bit, if you like?’ I reach over and grabthe last tissue from a box nearby. ‘Come on. You blow your nose and we’ll setto. George is asleep so we’ll whisk around and the place will be tidy beforeyou know it, okay?’
She nods and takes the tissue, but instead of wiping hertears, she carefully tucks it into her sleeve and wipes her wet face roughlywith both hands. I start moving things off the sofa and the chairs and findingplaces for them, always with a worried eye on Primrose, who’s gone back tostaring out of the window.
I hear footsteps on the stairs and next moment, Sam walksin.
He looks surprised to see me. ‘Hi, there.’
‘I’m Martha,’ I explain quickly. ‘I bumped into Primrosewhen she was out with George.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ He runs a hand over his face, lookingtired. ‘And how’s my favourite girl?’ he says softly, taking ashattered-looking Primrose in his arms. ‘How was your day? Is George okay?’ Heglances anxiously over her shoulder towards the nursery.
Having sunk against him with relief, she now pulls away andfolds her arms. ‘Oh, we’re fine. Yes, we’ve had a nice day.’ She glancesaround. ‘I just need to tidy up a bit and I’ll get some tea on the go.’
She’s putting on a brisk, cheerful voice, I guess for Sam’ssake. But his concerned expression tells me he’s not fooled.
‘Actually, I need to nip out.’ He glances at his watch. ‘Ijust wanted to make sure you were okay. I won’t be long.’ He glances at me.
I nod. ‘I’ll stay for a while.’
‘Great.’ He looks relieved. ‘Right, I’ll text when I’m on myway back.’
‘Where are you going?’ asks Primrose tightly.
Sam turns away. ‘Just a client, love,’ he murmurs. ‘Won’t belong.’ And he’s gone.
Primrose sinks down on the sofa. ‘He’s having an affair. Iknow he is.’ She stares up at me. Her eyes are red and she looks so sad anddefeated. ‘I told you. He’s going off me and I don’t blame him because...well, look at me!’ She pushes back her tangle of hair in disgust.
‘Hey, don’t be silly.’ I sit down beside her and take herhand. ‘You’re imagining things. It’s obvious Sam thinks the world of you and George.’
‘Do you think so?’ Her eyes are full of despair.
‘Of course I do. He loves you, Primrose.’
