Chapter 6
6
Getting out of the house on her own felt good. While it pained Sarah to spend yet more money, she decided to get the bumper family pack of cereal, on the account that it would save money in the long run. After picking up four pints of milk and having a quick rummage through the reduced section, she made her way to the checkout via the wine aisle.
‘Oh, how I miss you,’ she spoke aloud as she stared longingly at the bottles of Pinot Noir and Merlot. Several of her friends had continued to drink while pregnant. In fairness, she had had the odd glass too in those first three months when she was living in complete denial. But there was always so much guilt associated with it. After a sad sniff goodbye, she ambled down the aisle and stopped in front of the selection of non-alcoholic beers, picking up the cheapest bottle she could see. Even in a glass, it looked insipid. Besides, there was no way she could justify spending three pounds fifty on one bottle of lager, particularly when it was bound to taste like dishwater. With another heavy sigh, she planted it back on the shelf and turned back around to her trolley.
‘Oh, I do not blame you.’
Perfectly even eyeliner, a pair of meticulously curated eyebrows, and skin with fewer pores than a marble bath blocked the way. ‘I couldn’t stand that stuff. Honestly, when Philomena was born, the first thing I did was crack open a bottle of Moet. Really, the very first thing. I was still in the birthing tub. It’s the way all the Europeans do it. Fortunately, Anton goes over to Paris every couple of months. They have a much better range of non-alcoholic beers. They got me through my pregnancy with Demetrius. Honestly, the French just know how to do these things better, don’t you think? Not that I’d go through it a third time. My goodness, I think you’re insane. In the nicest possible way, of course.’ Justine emitted a high-pitched laugh, which rippled down Sarah’s spine.
‘Justine, how funny bumping into you here.’
‘It is, isn’t it? You know what it’s like. Sometimes, you just need to pop out for a few of those last-minute necessities.’
Sarah’s lips tightened as she glanced in Justine’s trolley: a selection of organic cheeses, a bottle of champagne, and another bottle of wine with an ochre-coloured label, clearly costing well over the maximum six-pound limit Sarah allowed them to spend on wine, even when they were celebrating. There was also a pack of smoked salmon, a jar of artichoke hearts, and an expensive box of chocolates.
‘Have you got a special evening planned?’ Sarah said, nodding to contents that looked like perfect dinner party accompaniments.
‘Oh goodness no, just the usual. Anton’s away again next week, so we like to make the most of the time we get together. You know how it is. Once the children are asleep.’ Justine gave an exaggerated wink. ‘You have to keep the marriage alive, don’t you?’
‘Oh yes, quite.’ Sarah recalled the night before of internet browsing and computer-game playing. Her marriage was still alive, just in a borderline comatose type of way. ‘Well.’ She shuffled through the gap between Justine’s trolley and the wine racks, trying not to hit either with her bump en route. ‘I’d better be getting home. George will be waiting to read me a bedtime story.’
‘Really? At this time?’ Justine lifted a perfectly plucked eyebrow. ‘You know, I admire your ability to be fluid as a parent. If mine ever stayed up this late, I just don’t know what I’d do. I need my me time. It’s selfish, I know, but it keeps me sane. I admire you so much for throwing out the idea of routines like that.’
‘Yes. That’s us. Just throwing our routines to the wind.’ Sarah made to move before hesitating. In one graceful turn, she twisted around, picked two insipid-looking non-alcoholic beers off the shelf, and popped them in the trolley. That was throwing something to the wind. Most probably their bank balance.
‘Did they go down okay?’ Sarah called through from the kitchen as she put away a selection of more sensible, kid-friendly freezer food.
‘George is still waiting to read you a story,’ Drew called back. ‘And Eva wanted double milk then asked to go to bed without a nappy on, so I said that was fine.’
Sarah burst into the living room, dropping the cereal boxes on the floor as she went. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’
A cheeky grin twisted on Drew’s lips. ‘You see,’ he said. ‘I do listen sometimes.’
‘Very funny.’
When all the stories were read, and Sarah had checked Eva’s nappy for potential leaks – just because Drew put it on, it didn’t mean he put it on properly – she headed downstairs and collapsed on the sofa.
‘Sorry I got stressed about the food,’ she said as she lifted her legs up onto the sofa and placed them on Drew’s lap. ‘It’s just another expense. Another load of wasted money, gone on nothing.’
‘It’s not wasted,’ Drew assured her, as he put down his phone and began to rub the soles of her feet. ‘I’ll eat the cereal.’
‘You don’t like cereal.’
‘I’m sure it’s not bad.’
Sarah smiled gratefully before leaning back, closing her eyes and trying to find a delicate way to start the conversation she wanted to have.
‘I know what you said before,’ she started. ‘But I was thinking about it again, and I think you should ask your parents for a loan.’ His eyes rolled before she’d even finished her sentence. ‘Please listen to me.’
‘Sorry, but there’s no point. I’m not doing it, Sarah.’
She gritted her teeth against the use of her full, two-syllable name. She was always Sah to Drew unless he was about to say something she didn’t want to hear.
‘Why not? What’s wrong with just asking?’
‘Because we don’t need it. We’re perfectly all right as we are.’
Sarah clenched her jaw and reminded herself that hitting him over the head with a saucepan was not a good idea, no matter how it felt at that exact moment.
‘We are not fine, Drew. We are cramped. We are cramped and miserable, and that’s with only four of us. When this thing is born, we’re going to have even less room. You know they’ve got plenty of money. Just ask.’
‘I’m not asking them for a loan,’ Drew repeated. ‘And will you please stop calling our baby a thing?’
‘I will stop calling it a thing when it stops being a thing. Right now, that is what it is. A thing, draining all my energy, stopping me from eating all my favourite things in life, and leaving me scared witless of what it is going to put me through. I could call it a parasite if you’d rather? That would work fine.’
Drew grunted into his beer. ‘Thing is fine.’
She took his hands and forced him around to face her. ‘I know you don’t want to do this, but please, can you think about it? For me? I feel like I don’t know who I am any more, other than the mum who does really terrible costumes for Book Day. I used to want to write books; now I barely even have time to read them.’
‘You’ll find the time again soon.’
‘Will I? When? When will I get a chance? When will I go back to work or do something for me? When will I stop having to come second to everybody else?’
It was an unfair question, and she knew it. Drew did what he could. She just needed him to appreciate her a bit more, that was all. Appreciate what it was she was going through day in, day out.
‘Look, do you want to put a film on?’ Drew suggested, sitting up, snuggling into her shoulder, and completely ignoring the questions she had lambasted him with. ‘You can pick.’
Sarah considered the idea momentarily, before shaking her head. ‘No. I’ll just end up falling asleep. I’ll head to bed a bit early and read my book for a while instead.’
After kissing Drew good night, Sarah trundled upstairs. As quietly as she could, she pushed the door open and peered in on the children. If this was a film, Sarah thought while watching her little ones spreadeagled on the bed, the loving mother would go into the room, kiss the children gently, pull the blankets over them and tuck them tightly in. However, this was real life, and she had quickly learned that any act that involved the possibility of waking them up was utter stupidity. So instead, she pulled the door closed and headed into her own room.
She was asleep before she had even read half a chapter.