Pulse

herself, to make doubly sure? If so, what would the Virgin Mary have to say about that? Let’s hope she isn’t relying on the rhythm method, he suddenly thought. Guaranteed to fail on a regular basis and keep the Pope as happy as Larry.
    Time passed; she met Gary and Melanie; they took to her. She didn’t tell them what to do; they told her, and shewent along with it. They also asked her questions he’d never dared, or cared, to ask.
    ‘Andrea, are you married?’
    ‘Can we watch TV as long as we like?’
    ‘Were you married?’
    ‘If I ate three would I be sick?’
    ‘Why aren’t you married?’
    ‘How old are you?’
    ‘What team do you support?’
    ‘You got any children?’
    ‘Are you and Dad getting married?’
    He learnt the answers to some of these questions – like any sensible woman, she wasn’t telling her age. One night, in the dark, after he’d delivered the kids back, and was too upset for sex, as he always was on these occasions, he said, ‘Do you think you could love me?’
    ‘Yes I think I would love you.’
    ‘Is that a would or a could?’
    ‘What is the difference?’
    He paused. ‘There’s no difference. I’ll take either. I’ll take both. I’ll take whatever you’ve got to give.’
    He didn’t know why it started, the next bit. Because he was beginning to fall in love with her, or because he didn’t really want to? Or wanted to, but was afraid? Or was it that, deep down, he had an urge to fuck everything up? That’s what his wife – ex-wife – had said to him one morning over breakfast. ‘Look, Vernon, I don’t hate you, I really don’t. I just can’t live with you because you always fuck things up.’ Her statement seemed to come out of the blue. True, he snored a bit, and dropped his clothes where he shouldn’t, and watched the normal amount of sport on TV. But he came home on time, loved his kids, didn’t chase other women. In some people’s eyes, that was the same as fucking things up.
    ‘Can I ask you something?’
    ‘For sure.’
    ‘No, “for sure” is American. English is “yes”.’
    She looked at him, as if to say, Why are you now correcting my English?
    ‘Yes,’ she repeated.
    ‘When I didn’t have a condom and you said it was OK, did you mean it was OK then or OK always?’
    ‘OK always.’
    ‘Blimey, do you know what a twelvepack costs?’
    That had been the wrong thing to say, even he could see that. Christ, maybe she’d had some terrible abortion, or been raped or something.
    ‘So you can’t have children?’
    ‘No. Do you hate me?’
    ‘Andrea, for God’s sake.’ He took her hand. ‘I’ve got two kids already. Point is, is it OK with you?’
    She looked down. ‘No. Is not OK with me. It makes me very unhappy.’
    ‘Well, we could … I don’t know, see the doctor. See an expert.’ He imagined the experts over here were more clued-up.
    ‘No, no expert. NO EXPERT.’
    ‘Fine, no experts.’ He thought: adoption? But can I afford another, with my outgoings?
    He stopped buying condoms. He started asking questions, as tactfully as he could. But tact was like flirting: either you had it, or you didn’t. No, that wasn’t right. It was just easier to be tactful if you didn’t care if you knew things or not; harder when you cared.
    ‘Why are you now asking these questions?’
    ‘Am I?’
    ‘Yes, I think so.’
    ‘Sorry.’
    But he was mainly sorry that she’d noticed. Also sorrythat he wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. When they first got together, he liked the fact that he didn’t know anything about her; it made things different, fresher. Gradually, she’d learnt about him, while he hadn’t learnt about her. Why not continue like that? Because you always fuck things up , his wife, ex-wife, whispered. No, he didn’t accept that. If you fall in love, you want to know. Good, bad, indifferent. Not that you’re looking for bad things. That’s just what falling in love means, Vernon said to himself. Or thinking about falling in love. Anyway, Andrea was a nice person, he was certain about that. So what was wrong with finding out about a nice person behind her back?
    They all knew him at The Right Plaice: Mrs Ridgewell the manageress, Jill the other waitress, and old Herbert, who owned the restaurant but only dropped in when he fancied a free bite. Vernon chose a time when the lunch trade was starting, and walked past the counter towards the toilets. The room – more of a cupboard, really – where the staff left