Perfect Day

she can’t find a way of starting a conversation with him. They’ve just skipped all the getting to know each other part of the relationship and they’re too far on now to ask the usual questions.
    Kate saw a programme on telly recently about social etiquette. It said that if you’re nervous, it’s best to start a conversation with family, work, education and recreation. The initials spell a word that’s easy to remember. FWER. That can’t be right. Trouble is , she doesn’t really want to ask him about his family because it’s a bit sad. She knows what his work is. She can’t start asking how many GCSEs he got now. So she’s left with recreation.
    ‘If we were in a film now, what would the film be?’ she ventures finally.
    You’re not meant to ask questions that can be answered with a yes or a no, but that sounds stupid, like one of those silly games Marie’s always getting her to play, where they have to be a meal or a character from history.
    He doesn’t say anything and now she’s torn between enquiring whether he heard, and wanting to take the question back in case he says something that she doesn’t like.
    If he replies Pretty Woman, she’s going to feel like a tart. If he says Sleepless in Seattle, then she’ll have to ask him if he’s got a child, and she doesn’t really want to know. She does. But she doesn’t.
    What would Marie do?
    Marie would say, ‘It’s just sex. Why do you have to dress it up?’
    God, it’s weird making love with your clothes on. Kind of like being a teenager again, with hands going everywhere under the cover of fabric.
    A giggle blurts out of Kate’s mouth.
    ‘What?’ Alexander asks.
    ‘Nothing,’ says Kate.
    He laughs. She’s right on the edge of feeling special and feeling patronized, but he puts his arm around her, and it settles her.
    Perhaps he’s got a girlfriend, but he’s bored.
    A taxi stops beside them at traffic lights. The smiling voice of Sophie Ellis- Bextor floats out of the driver’s open window. ‘If This Ain’t Love ...’
    Kate knows that whenever she hears this song in the future she will think of him.
    ‘Last Tango in Paris , perhaps?’ Alexander says. ‘Last Tango in Selfridges.’
    ‘What?’
    For a second, Kate doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
    ‘The film,’ he says, looking a bit embarrassed.
    It’s one of those movies she’s seen bits of, flicking over from something on another channel, or turning off when her brothers come spilling in from the pub on a Saturday night. She has an impression of arty graininess, and a camera that whirls in and out of focus. And sex.
    ‘ D’you think it’s just sex, then?’ she says. Why last tango? Is he saying that they’re not going to do it again?
    ‘I don’t know. Is it?’ he says.
    She knows that the answer she gives now is so important that if they were in a movie, there would be a freeze frame.
    ‘I don’t know,’ she says eventually.
    They walk a little further.
    ‘To be honest,’ she says, feeling the need to elaborate, ‘I can’t really remember a lot about it, except that Marlon Brando was wearing a sort of long overcoat.’
    Then it’s Alexander’s turn: his laughter comes blurting out. ‘You’re unbelievable!’ he says.
    She loves the way he says that.
    Unbelievable. It’s not a word she’s thought a lot about before, but when he says it it’s full of wonder and fun and it makes her quiver with pleasure.
    ‘What’s your favourite word?’ she asks him.
    The homeward bound traffic is beginning to build on the Marylebone Road . There’s a queue of red brake lights as far as the eye can see westward.
    ‘Spontaneity!’ Alexander shouts. ‘What’s yours?’
    The revving of engines and beeping of horns is so loud it does something to Kate’s brain, making her unable to think. Alexander takes her hand as they cross.
    When the noise level drops enough to allow speech, she says, ‘Serendipity’s a good one. I think it was voted top in one of those polls.’
    He smiles at her. ‘What film were you thinking of?’ he asks.
    ‘I don’t know,’ she says.
    Stupid! Having answers ready is part of the art of conversation.
    ‘There was that one with Meryl Streep and Robert de Niro , where they meet on a train...’ She grabs at the first film she can think of but her voice trails away as she remembers the title.
    ‘Falling in Love? ’ says Alexander.
    ‘It was meant to be kind of a modern version of Brief Encounter,’ she says, trying