Page 53 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
It suddenly clicks. It’s Sam, Primrose’s boyfriend, and helooks as if he’s carrying the whole world on his shoulders.
I sigh. My chance of happiness might be scuppered, thanks tomy own stupid behaviour – but Primrose and Sam have a baby, so it’s far morevital that they sort out their problems. And if there’s a chance I can help,then I should definitely try.
Abandoning the car, I run after Sam. He’s reached theentrance to a supermarket before he finally hears me calling his name, and heturns in surprise. I can tell he’s forgotten who I am.
‘Martha,’ I explain, panting. ‘I was at your flat withPrimrose?’
A light goes on. ‘Ah, yes.’ He frowns. ‘Is everything okay?’
I hesitate, not having had time to rehearse a speech. ‘I...well, I’m a bit worried about Primrose. She’s not herself these days, and wewere talking about it and we thought she might just be really tired and thatmight be what’s making her behave oddly. But...’ I tail off,wondering how on earth to hint that I know he’s having an affair.
I’m half-expecting him to be slightly offended by myintervention, but surprisingly, he seems to be hanging on my every word.
‘But?’ he repeats, frowning.
I sigh. ‘Okay, I’m just going to come out and say it. Sohere goes.’ I draw in a deep breath. ‘The thing is, Primrose thinks you’rehaving an affair.’
A variety of expressions cross Sam’s face.
‘She thinks I’m being unfaithful?’ he murmurs, running ahand distractedly through his hair. ‘But why?’
‘Because she thinks you’ve been spending a lot of time awayfrom home.’
‘But I’ve been working hard. She knows that.’
I sigh. ‘Look, there’s no easy way of saying this...but that day I was at your flat, when I left, I saw you in the car park. With awoman. So I’m afraid I’m inclined to think Primrose might be right.’
He stares at me, a shocked look on his face. And my heartsinks, thinking I must indeed be correct.
But he’s shaking his head. ‘No, no, it’s nothing like that.Yes, I was meeting Nicola in secret, but that wasn’t because something wasgoing on between us.’
‘No?’
‘No! Nicola’s the wife of a friend of mine. She’s a midwifeand we were talking in the car about Primrose. Our relationship has beenfalling apart ever since George was born, but we can’t seem to sort things outand I was at my wits’ end, thinking it must be something I was doing or notdoing.’ He sighs. ‘But when I described the symptoms to Nicola, she said shewas pretty certain Primrose was suffering from postnatal depression.’
‘Really?’Why didn’t I think of that?
He nods. ‘Trouble is, when I mentioned this to Primrose, shewent off the deep end and refused to admit there was anything wrong with her. Imade an appointment at the doctors but she wouldn’t go.’
‘Oh, no. Poor Primrose,’ I murmur. ‘Maybe she’s feelingguilty because she thinks she’s not coping well enough as a new mum.’
He shrugs. ‘Maybe. I just don’t know. I’m trying to help heras much as I can but if she refuses to accept there’s something wrong with her,I don’t know what else I can do.’
‘You need to keep talking to her until she listens,’ I sayfirmly. ‘She needs to understand that you’re totally with her and that postnataldepression is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘Easier said than done,’ he murmurs doubtfully.
‘I know, but you have to keep trying to get through to her.And you will, eventually.’
‘Do you think so?’
I nod firmly – mainly because I can’t actually think of anyother way for them to break the obvious deadlock.
‘Okay.’ He nods wearily. ‘Thanks, Martha. Let’s hope you’reright.’
I smile. ‘You could always give her the night off. Send heroff for a relaxing bubble bath while you look after George and make dinner?’ Ishake my head. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be telling you what to do.’
‘No, no, please go ahead.’ He shrugs. ‘That’s exactly what Ineed. Someone giving me advice. Because I’ve been feeling like a pretty uselessboyfriend and dad, to be honest.’
