Page 63 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
She phoned me last week and at first, I thought she might beangry with me because I’d interfered and talked to Sam about her. But actually,the opposite was true.
‘I’ve been diagnosed with postnatal depression and I have tosay, Martha, I’m feeling a lot better already. I’d honestly no idea there wasanything wrong with me. I thought I was just failing to cope because I was areally bad, unnatural mother. But thanks to you urging Sam to broach thesubject of postnatal depression with me, I’m now getting the right treatment.’
‘Oh, Primrose. I’m so glad. I could tell you weresuffering.’
She blows out her breath. ‘Goodness knows how long I’d havelimped on like that, feeling so lost and alone... like I wassome kind of freak of nature because I couldn’t take care of my baby properly.’
‘Awful,’ I murmur.’
‘I know. My gran was really cross with me for not confidingin her that I was feeling so bad. I mean... notangrycross... just kicking herself that she hadn’t realisedsomething was wrong with me.’
I sigh. ‘We both know all about putting on an act andpretending we’re okay,’ I murmur. ‘You can fool even those who love yousometimes.’
‘Yeah. Well, I’ve given up pretending I’m fine. And that’sthanks to you and Sam.’
‘I’m just glad I was there to help.’
‘So am I. And I’m really sorry for getting all paranoid onyou that time, telling you I thought Sam was having an affair. Neither you norhe deserved all of that embarrassing drama.’
‘But you’ve got nothing to feel sorryfor! Honestly,Prim, you were in such a horrible place, but now you’re emerging into the lightagain, which is just so good to hear.’
We ended the call with her saying she and Sam would try andmake it along to the dinner tonight. And now I have to hurry and dry my hairbecause Logan will be along to pick me up in five minutes. The thought of himmakes my heart do a little forward flip of happiness, and I’m still smilingwhen I meet Dad on the stairs.
‘You’relooking very smart,’ I say, doing a doubletake. ‘Is that a new jacket?’
He nods. ‘I’m... going out tonight,actually.’
‘Is somebody retiring at work?’
‘No, no. I’m... having a drink withsomeone. Just one person.’
‘Someone from work?’
He hesitates. ‘Not exactly.’
‘So who is it?’ I ask, laughing.
The doorbell rings at that moment, and Dad reactssuspiciously like a man on a first date, smoothing his hair and looking a touchfearful.
A thought enters my head. ‘It’s Linda. I bet it’s Linda!’
He gives me an odd look and shakes his head. ‘It’s notLinda.’
‘So who...?’
Curious, I hang back half way up the stairs as he opens thefront door. A woman is standing in the shadows.
‘Hi, there. You found it,’ says Dad. He turns to me, as the womansteps into the light, and he says, ‘Martha, this is... thisis Max.’
Max?
‘Maxine.’ The tall, blonde woman smiles up at me. ‘But I get“Max” at work.’
‘Right.’ I smile and walk down the stairs. ‘Well, it’slovely to meet you, Maxine.’
She looks to be in her fifties, maybe a little younger thanDad. We shake hands warmly.
Dad seems nervous. ‘I... think we’ll justgo, shall we, Max... er, Maxine?’
