Page 80 of Love Is…?

“You know Sam was my tutor, right? When Mum brought me down to Melbourne to filmDiscreet Liaison, her publicist hired Sam to tutor me. I didn’t quite see it at first, but it was kind of love at first sight for both of them. I think so, anyway. I was nine, so who knows what nine-year-olds see. But I got a vibe, I guess. They were always together. Then we were alwaystogether. It’s like Sam has always been part of our family. It had just been Mum and me for ages, but then there was Sam and it was perfect, you know? Then we moved to Melbourne, and it felt just right. All because Sam and Mum found each other.”

Grace sighs through a smile, her hazel eyes twinkling, then she waves her hand in front of her face.

“That’s a bit mushy. No, not really. It’s awesome. Talk about two people with their hearts above their heads. Two people, two hearts, finding one another on each other’s journey. I might finish this in time so it can be a wedding gift.”

She stares at the lines and shapes on the canvas, then shakes her head.

“No. They’re getting a Grace Taylor original poem. Hey! There’s a wedding detail for you.”

I receive another wink.

“It was actually love at first sight.”

Sam—“Call me Sam, not Samantha”—is wonderfully disarming, and completely self-effacing. She leans back in a rather utilitarian business chair in one of the anterooms of the MTC, yet even in her relaxed pose, with the sleeves rolled up on her blue business shirt, she crackles with energy. In an hour, she is due to meet a group of eleven-and twelve-year-old studentswho have been granted scholarships to study theatre for the two weeks in the upcoming school holidays. Sam put into place the scholarship program within the first three months of taking up the role of Director of Educational Programs at the MTC.

Sam is easy-going. It is interesting to observe her interactions with students visiting for their scholarship week. Her ready smile and quick humour settle their nerves.

“Yeah. Kids relate well to observational humour. They see more than people realise, so joking about what’s around them helps a lot. Kids like quick, short and sharp, rather than long-winded. You’ve lost them before your joke even reaches the halfway mark if you do that. Be quick, be observant, and you’ve caught their attention.”

Quick to smile, Sam brings attention back to her opening remark.

“Abby and I met accidentally but sort of on purpose. Most people know that already. Most people also know that I was hired to teach Grace while Abby was filming. I guess people have worked out that I had an enormous crush on Abby.”

She spreads her arms wide, then points to a framed promotional poster of Abigail on stage as Rosalind inAs You Like It.

“I mean, seriously. Who wouldn’t? So, yeah, it was love at first sight for me. But Abby says she took ages, which is a complete lie. I call her on it all the time. I mean, I made her hot chocolate and gave her TimTams right from the start. Who doesn’t fall in love over a TimTam?”

The trademark grin is filled with cheekiness and delight.

“Abby’s just… She’s my person, you know? Like, occasionally, on my way to the shower some mornings, I’ll mention in passing that I’ll have some of that instant ninety-seconds-in-the-microwave porridge for breakfast. I’m just verbalising a thought to the bathroom door but when I get out to the kitchen, there’s a bowl of instant ninety-seconds-in-the-microwave porridge with cinnamon sugar on top waiting for me because Abby knows exactly when I’ll reappear in the kitchen, exactly how much cinnamon sugar I like, and exactly how to decipher my mumblings when I inform the door jamb of my dietary preferences. She gets me.”

Sam points to the poster again, then leans forwards, her gaze intense and whispers,

“You know I’m marryingtheAbigail Taylor, right? It’s astonishing.”

Then she grins widely, pushes back from the table, and crosses one jeans-clad leg over the other.

“I was the one to ask. Many of our friends couldn’t believe it because apparently they all thought Abby would be the one to do the asking. But it was a complete accident. I blurted it out in a moment I’m not sharing, but it was very on brand. Everyone says, ‘Oh my God, you’re marrying Abigail Taylor’ and I am, but to me, I’m marrying Abby, who is beautiful and gorgeous and generous and silly and we laugh so much together and she is all I see.”

Being in a relationship with a celebrity brings with it a life in the public limelight. Sam huffs a sigh and creates a rectangle with her fingers as if to represent a camera.

“If you mean the constant picture, picture, picture, then yeah. But a showbiz life is still a life, isn’t it? It’s a life where millions of people go to work with you. You bring them home with you. People have opinions about us. One reporter called me the lanky laconic lesbian lover of Abigail Taylor. Props for alliteration.Yet we don’t ask other…Well, you, for example. We don’t ask you if you’re used to the journalism life yet?”

Perhaps journalists aren’t interesting, and she inclines her head, a frown on her face.

“Oh, but you are. Any profession is. Teaching is. Yes, teaching is inside a kind of fishbowl because there’s accountability to parents, to education departments, to boards, to the students. But no one is trying to get a teacher’s autograph, no matter how interesting they are. So, the showbiz life? It’s bigger, puffier. It’s a life where people are fascinated with the person behind the poster, behind the giant eighteen-foot-tall screen image in the cinema. We are asked to share more of our lives with strangers than most people are asked to, which means that we do close the curtains around us more thoroughly than other people might. To me, Abby is a director, an actor, a theatre company owner, a board member, a fiancée and a mum.I’m Sam, the Director of Education at a theatre company, a mentor to other teachers, a parent, and a soon to be married woman. We are more than the exterior of ourselves, but we, particularly Abby, try to keep that exterior quite robust. Most of the attention is not directed at me. It’s mostly at Abby,because her job is to sell a story, become a character, be part of a fantasy that people can immerse themselves in, because escapism is necessary in life. Yet, her job comes with extra bits, extra attention. People can occasionally blend Abby with her character. But me? I’m kind of invisible. I’m all about the students. I’d be a bit useless to them if I was spending my time chucking myself in front of every camera lens hanging about.”

Her sentence is punctuated by a one shoulder shrug and a quick smile, two gestures that are utilised often throughout our interviews. They are a moment of levity tacked on the end of a deeply philosophical contemplation. Many have labelled it a Sam Markson moment; her ability to focus on a tight discussion, then, as if aware that the tension needs releasing, toss in some self-deprecating humour so that the participants can sit back and digest the contents of the conversation. Sam Markson knows how to read her audience.

Transparency is important in people. Is it a quality admired in a person when developing a relationship?

“Absolutely. Abby says she loves me because I’m me.That’s the thing, isn’t it? Just be yourself. God, that’s a meme or Instagram thingy right there. But it’s true.I’ve not been in love before. Not before Abby. I mean, I was in relationships but not in love, and both of us, that other person in those relationships, kind of knew it. Like, it didn’t fit either of us. Now, I can’t imagine being with anyone else. At first, I had no idea why Abby would even contemplate a relationship with me, but right from the start, I was completely transparent with her, which I know she appreciated. It makes love stronger, you know? I can’t imagine love lasting very long if it’s layered in dust and dishonesty.”

Perhaps love is the act of being in love with love? Sam leans forward again, scooting closer to the table, her eyes piercing.

“No, I don’t think that’s completely true. It’s possible to walk away from certain types of love. It really is. Sometimes love can leave corners of your heart dog-eared, or perhaps the cover torn because someone was incredibly reckless with it, or maybe you walk away because the thought of a wrinkle in the fabric of your heart is too much to contemplate.That’s where you’re in love with being in love. The wrinkles start to irritate the fairytale. So, love is more than just being in love with love.”

While Sam explains her thinking, her hands are in constant motion. She is exuberant, and enthusiastic. She is also a fast talker. I suggest that only another Australian would be able to keep up with her. Sam laughs, her head thrown back.

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