‘Jesus, if I have to watch another PowerPoint presentation I swear I’m going to rip my own head off.’\u00a0 He was looking at the ceiling, not at anything else, and she was holding his hand under the covers.\u00a0 He liked it that he knew she was there without having to look.<\/p>\n
‘Ah, remember what Clooney said?\u00a0 About hollowing out your own leg?’<\/p>\n
George Clooney on “Desert Island Discs”.\u00a0 He’d chosen William Shatner singing ‘Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds’ because it was so awful you would hollow out your own leg to make a canoe and escape.<\/p>\n
‘What is it with women and Clooney?\u00a0 He’s got a weak nose and he’s not as smooth as he thinks.\u00a0 Anyway, I have it on good authority he bats -‘<\/p>\n
‘Mark, for God’s sake. \u00a0Anyway, says who, Patrick?’<\/p>\n
Patrick was his best friend and, until he’d met Fiona, the person he’d always talked to about films, music and pop culture.\u00a0 Fiona knew all about Patrick, including that his mum had died of cancer when Patrick was sixteen, and how all the boys had been half in love with her because she was young and funny and knew every film and every song that had ever been made.\u00a0 Patrick, on the other hand, had no idea Fiona even existed.<\/p>\n
Fiona said: ‘Go on, I bet Sarah likes a bit of Clooney.’<\/p>\n
Which bit?\u00a0 That would be the obvious thing to say.\u00a0 But he didn’t want to think about Sarah, or the children.\u00a0 He needed to stop calling them that, it didn’t help.\u00a0 Michael and Sophie were grown up, just about.\u00a0 Michael had a job, was about to leave home.\u00a0 Sophie had a place at university.\u00a0 “We’ll never stop worrying about them,” Sarah’s voice said in his mind, but he thought \u2013 tried to think \u2013 they’re ok, they’re fine;\u00a0 job done, mission accomplished.\u00a0 It was his turn now, wasn’t it?\u00a0 And as before, he thought how this made him sound cold, as if he didn’t love them, and also as before it made him remember them when they were tiny, and his heart broke a little.<\/p>\n
Yet where was he, Mark, in amongst going to work, ferrying the kids around, loading the dishwasher, keeping people’s drinks topped up at parties?\u00a0 Didn’t everyone want to feel they were being chosen, instead of just being there?\u00a0 More voices: “You can’t have it all,” then “Why settle for less?”\u00a0 and he thought how even the most serious questions got turned into cheap advertising slogans, which was a conversation he could have had with Patrick or Fiona, not so much with Sarah.<\/p>\n
He sat up into the stuffy air of the hotel room and \u00a0Fiona sat up too.<\/p>\n
‘Yes?’ she said, smiling.\u00a0 But they both knew they didn’t need an excuse to look at each other.\u00a0 “You’re still at that stage,” a voice said in his head.\u00a0 He tilted forwards so their heads were gently touching.\u00a0 When Fiona spoke, her words vibrated through him, which he liked; he wanted her to be there.\u00a0 Seeing each other a few times a year, it had taken a while for him to be able to conjure the sound of her voice in his head, to go with the words from her long emails, now deleted for safety.<\/p>\n
‘Let’s go and walk by the harbour,’ Fiona said, her voice buzzing in his temples.<\/p>\n
She got up and began gathering her clothes from the floor.\u00a0 He watched, settling back on the pillow, enjoying the sensation of knowing you are about to do something, but not doing it yet.\u00a0 “Imagination’s always better than reality for you, isn’t it?” said Sarah’s voice in his mind.<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
It was one of those riverfront developments where factories and warehouses have been made into bars, cafes and fancy shops.\u00a0 They leaned on the railing overlooking the river, Fiona’s arm draped over his, making him think of two snakes coiled together.<\/p>\n
‘Dental implants, eh?’ He grinned, daring her to resist, but after a moment she broke into a smile.\u00a0 It had been their first joke, the one that brought them together.<\/p>\n
‘So how are you enjoying International Dental Implants Expo 2009?’ she’d said.\u00a0 They’d both been on the perimeter of the scrum around the drinks table outside the conference hall.\u00a0 He’d laughed, because they were at an IT conference and it was a bizarre thing to say, yet he’d known just what she was getting at: that this was the most boring conference imaginable.\u00a0 She’d gone on:<\/p>\n
‘So are you big in dental implants?’<\/p>\n
‘Oh, yeah.\u00a0 I’m fucking massive in dental implants.’\u00a0 It wasn’t like him to swear, but then she’d laughed and he’d gone from feeling as if he wasn’t being himself to feeling as if he was being more himself than he had been for a long time.\u00a0 That was how it started.\u00a0 Dental implants became a running gag with them: “Is that a dental implant in your pocket, sir? \u2026 I need mental implants, me \u2026”.\u00a0 It would all sound stupid to anyone else, he knew that, but it wasn’t about the words.\u00a0 It was just her, just them.\u00a0 It was the sheer, million to one, hilarious relief of finding each other: they laughed with relief.<\/p>\n
The sun warmed their faces, and he studied Fiona’s profile as the water moved quietly.\u00a0 She had a proper nose.\u00a0 He liked a proper nose on a woman, not small or button or turned up.\u00a0 What was it that Sophia Loren had said when asked if she had considered a nose job?\u00a0 Something, anyway, about how the nose determined the whole character of the face and should never be changed.\u00a0 “Oh, the great connoisseur of women,” he could hear Sarah’s voice again. \u00a0He remembered kissing Fiona for the first time and the strange contours of a different face next to his, different teeth that had to be negotiated.<\/p>\n
They were middle-aged, on the threshold of being old but not yet old \u00a0in today’s reckoning; and together they felt young.\u00a0 Though perhaps Fiona had never stopped feeling so, with her mighty laugh and wild, honey-coloured hair.\u00a0 (Sarah’s voice: “Of course it’s dyed.\u00a0 All women over thirty five do”).\u00a0 Mark moved his fingers over his own hair, as if touching something fragile.<\/p>\n
‘Do you think, ‘ he’d said to Fiona, ‘you could love a man in the autumn of his life whose hair is preparing to go south for the winter?’<\/p>\n
‘Well,’ she’d looked carefully.\u00a0 ‘Your hair is certainly on its last legs \u2013 so to speak \u2013 but you know what?’\u00a0 Here she’d leaned in to whisper.\u00a0 ‘Standards go way, way down at our age.\u00a0 You only have to look as if you used to be attractive.\u00a0 And you definitely look as if you used to be very attractive.’\u00a0 Then she\u2019d laughed raucously and that was the last time they\u2019d spoken of age.<\/p>\n
Fiona said: \u2018You know, I kind of wish I could meet Patrick.\u00a0 I know I can’t now.\u00a0 It’s going to be difficult for him \u2013 it must have been Mark and Sarah since forever for him.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Mmm.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Well, he was your best man.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Yeah.\u00a0 It’s just not what he calls us.’\u00a0 It felt embarrassing to be telling her this only now, and he realised he’d kept it back.\u00a0 ‘He calls us \u2026 Spot and Sis.\u00a0 You know, Spot as in \u201ca mark\u201d.\u00a0 It’s from when we were kids.\u2019\u00a0 He thought he might be blushing.<\/p>\n
Patrick had never married.\u00a0 He liked women but called relationships “a bear pit”.\u00a0 He would never have kids.\u00a0 With Mark and Sarah, he had a measure of family life when he wanted it \u2013 the kids loved him \u2013 but then he could retreat to his own space.\u00a0 Mark had always assumed it was maybe because of Patrick’s mum.\u00a0 But even before she died they were almost like part of each other’s families.\u00a0 Fiona knew all this, but still.<\/p>\n
\u2018He calls Sarah “Sis”?\u2019<\/p>\n
Abruptly, he broke away from her.\u00a0 \u2018Shit!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018What?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Shh!\u00a0 He\u2019ll hear us. It\u2019s Mike Walker.\u00a0 We ought to go.\u2019\u00a0 He was looking at a stocky, balding man with glasses, browsing in the arcade behind them.<\/p>\n
\u2018Why?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Because he\u2019s the Procurement guy, and the back of his shirt is always sweaty when he take his jacket off.\u00a0 Because I’ve seen him looking at websites that sell combat weapons.\u00a0 And he\u2019ll see us together.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018What\u2019s wrong with Procurement, Mr Helpdesk Manager?\u00a0 Always thought that was a bit of a girl\u2019s job myself.\u2019<\/p>\n
As a Third Line Support Engineer, Fiona inhabited a largely male world. It pained him slightly to imagine her amongst the usual Third Line types: jokers, wide boys with sharp clothes, blinding you with science, saying \u201cMind if I drive?\u201d when they rolled up to fix your PC.\u00a0 He glanced across at Walker\u2019s back.<\/p>\n
\u2018Look, soon it won\u2019t matter, but he can’t see us now.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Then,\u2019 said Fiona, \u2018we\u2019d better run.\u2019\u00a0 And she took off down the riverfront.\u00a0 For a second he panicked, because surely this would attract attention; then he noticed the soft, flailing, but curiously endearing way she was running.\u00a0 Finally, heedless of Walker, he ran after her, only for Fiona to accelerate sharply into a wholly more athletic style of running.\u00a0 It occurred to him she had been jokingly \u201crunning like a girl\u201d, but it was clear she was a proper runner.\u00a0 \u201cNot that you know anything about running,” Sarah\u2019s voice said.<\/p>\n
With some effort, he caught her up by some barrels outside a Victorian-styled pub.\u00a0 She was breathing a little fast and her soft, clean perfume came off more heavily into the air, but her eyes glittered up at him.<\/p>\n
\u2018I didn’t know you ran,\u2019 he said, gasping.<\/p>\n
\u2018I didn’t know you didn’t.\u2019<\/p>\n
He held her waist, glancing briefly over his shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u2018I really don\u2019t think Mike Walker has been in pursuit.\u2019\u00a0 She fixed him with her wide-set eyes and slapped the top of a barrel.\u00a0 \u2018These things are making me thirsty.\u00a0 Race you back to the hotel?\u2019<\/p>\n
He didn’t get the chance to say no, and then a strong memory came of Michael dashing up and down the alleyway near their old house shouting \u201cDaddy, can you see me?\u00a0 Am I a blur?\u201d<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
Back in the hotel room, Fiona pulled open the mini-bar.\u00a0 Reflexively, he glanced at his watch.<\/p>\n
\u2018Oh, come on,\u2019 she opened a miniature of gin.\u00a0 \u2018I hope you\u2019re not going to be that boring when we\u2019re living together.\u2019\u00a0 She made G&Ts for them both.\u00a0 \u2018We\u2019ll need these to endure the rigours of the keynote speech.\u00a0 Cheers.\u2019<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
They entered the conference hall separately and sat apart, as he always thought, like spies in a film.\u00a0 This was their fifth, sixth conference? \u00a0He secretly liked being able to watch Fiona from a distance, in a full body shot as it were, to see her shape as she moved across a room.<\/p>\n
The presentation was called \u201cTop To Bottom: Embedding Network Security and Compliance\u201d.\u00a0 The speaker was a young, eager man with sideburns razored to a point and a narrow strip of beard bisecting his chin.\u00a0 He kept rapping the projection screen with a pointer as he intoned \u2018Top \u2026 to bottom.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Top bottom.\u00a0 Chin = landing strip\u2019 Mark texted to Fiona, as usual automatically deleting the message once it had been sent, as he would delete her contact details before he got home.\u00a0 Sometimes he worried that she was hurt by all his precautions, his deletions.\u00a0 But he knew that she knew their situations were different.\u00a0 It was lucky they didn\u2019t both have people in their lives who could be let down or betrayed.\u00a0 Then again, how lucky would he feel to be nearly fifty and with no one who felt he belonged to them – or they to him?\u00a0 Sometimes he thought: why doesn\u2019t she miss it – does she miss it?\u00a0 But never when he saw Fiona, looked into her face. \u00a0When people had beautiful eyes it usually meant big, wide eyes, like a child.\u00a0 Fiona’s eyes were beautiful in a different way: narrow, green, wide-set, almost hooded eyes which creased as she spoke, as if she were continually on the point of laughter.\u00a0 Her eyes let you in on a secret or a joke, invited you in, focused on you.<\/p>\n
His phone vibrated with Fiona\u2019s text: \u2019Interesting stuff.\u00a0 Maybe too hard for a helpdesk manager.\u2019\u00a0 He tried to sneak a look in her direction, just as his phone went again: \u2018Chin = Brazilian.\u2019 \u00a0He smiled to himself, then deleted her messages.<\/p>\n
At dinner he failed to avoid sitting on a table with Walker.<\/p>\n
\u2018The thing is, people think procurement is just a form-filling exercise, but you know -\u2019 \u00a0Walker had a nasal, somewhat cajoling voice.<\/p>\n
Fiona was a few tables away and he discreetly tried to look over as Walker talked to him.\u00a0 Every time he saw Fiona she was either talking, laughing or pouring more wine.\u00a0 He felt a childish pang of jealousy, and a yearning to pluck her away from all these people.<\/p>\n
‘Seen someone you know?’\u00a0 Walker’s voice, close to his ear.<\/p>\n
‘Sorry?’<\/p>\n
Walker smiled.\u00a0 ‘So how’s the little woman?’<\/p>\n
Mark knew there was no winning with people who used expressions like “the little woman”, so he tried to ask after Walker’s partner or wife, whose name he forgot.\u00a0 Melissa?<\/p>\n
It turned out it was Melanie, and also that she was no longer Walker’s wife.<\/p>\n
‘I’m sorry,’ Mark said automatically, but he had a strange feeling, like d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu.\u00a0 No \u2013 the opposite.\u00a0 This was a conversation he, Mark, would have to have in the future, repeatedly, until everyone knew.<\/p>\n
Walker, though, dismissed any potential sympathy.\u00a0 Mark only half-listened.\u00a0 It was all good – water under the bridge \u2013 long overdue – life really did begin at forty.\u00a0 At this, Mark regarded the thin, colourless hair and blotchy complexion of his colleague: it had never occurred to him Walker might have been under forty.<\/p>\n
‘I mean, they say you’re being selfish if you don’t have kids, but selfish to who?\u00a0 Makes it easier when everything inevitably goes tits up, if you ask me.\u00a0 How is that selfish?\u00a0 No offence.’<\/p>\n
Mark recognised these arguments, because he used to make them, a long time ago, but of course things had changed or anyway they had happened.<\/p>\n
Walker leaned in confidentially.\u00a0 ‘Anyway.\u00a0 I’m mature, free and single now.\u00a0 Because it’s true what they say: women like an older man.’\u00a0 He tapped the side of his glasses and laid a warm hand on Mark’s forearm.\u00a0 ‘There was a young lady who wanted me to \u2013 talk to her.’\u00a0 He grinned expectantly.<\/p>\n
‘Sorry?’<\/p>\n
‘You know.\u00a0 Dirty!’\u00a0 Walker broke into a chuckle.\u00a0 ‘Bloody hell, I’m telling you \u2013’<\/p>\n
Then Mark had a brainwave, or rather he remembered something he shouldn\u2019t have forgotten, but it would get him away from Walker.\u00a0 He excused himself and went out of the function room into the quiet smell of carpet and air freshener.\u00a0 He found Home in his phone\u2019s address book.\u00a0 It rang several times then went to the outgoing message, which Patrick had recorded for a laugh:\u00a0 \u201cHi, you\u2019ve reached Sarah, Mark, Michael and Sophie.\u00a0 They\u2019re screening their calls in case they don’t want to talk to you.\u201d\u00a0 His friend\u2019s voice sounded thin and boxey.\u00a0 There was history in that message.\u00a0 He should have re-recorded it years ago.\u00a0 Then he realised the beep had gone.<\/p>\n
‘Hi, it’s me, just calling to \u2026 ok, maybe you’re not there.\u00a0 Anyway, I’m ok, the conference is ok \u2026 I went to the river today.\u00a0 I can’t seem to shake off Mike Walker, so that’s not so good \u2026 Anyway, I hope your thing went ok.\u00a0 Speak later, and -‘ he lost his thread.\u00a0 ‘Love you – say hi to the kids.’<\/p>\n
He had to say that \u2013 love you \u2013 because it was what they always said, but why slip into that about the kids, which they hadn’t said for years?<\/p>\n
Back in the function room the lights were dimmed and people were out on the dance-floor.\u00a0 To his relief, Walker was no longer at their table, but where was Fiona?\u00a0 Then he spotted her, dancing on the far side of the floor, looking happy and beautiful in the half-darkness of the coloured lights.<\/p>\n
Then: he spotted Walker.\u00a0 Walker, dabs of sweat appearing on his back, shrugging, wiggling his way across the dance floor, unmistakeably heading straight over to Fiona.<\/p>\n
In the annihilating blare of the music Mark watched them talking, soundlessly, as if in a dream, tilting together, leaning in to make themselves heard.<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
He’d been sprawled on the narrow sofa for quite a while when he saw Fiona come through the door carrying her coat and bag.\u00a0 He had a Scotch and ice and was channel-hopping with the TV on mute.<\/p>\n
‘Hi,’ she kissed him.<\/p>\n
‘How did you end up dancing with Walker?’\u00a0 He turned off the TV.<\/p>\n
She went to the mini-bar.\u00a0 ‘Hmmm?\u00a0 God, I don’t know.’<\/p>\n
An anxious, headlong feeling was gathering in him.<\/p>\n
She poured a drink.\u00a0 ‘He said he saw you looking at me.\u00a0 Said you were a dark horse and all that.\u00a0 I think he was joking.’<\/p>\n
All his precautions.<\/p>\n
‘Don’t worry, I played dumb.\u00a0 Said I had lots of admirers.\u00a0 I’m sure it’s fine.\u00a0 He said you were a good man.’<\/p>\n
‘Shit, Fiona.’\u00a0 All his precautions, yet he’d never realised until this moment how afraid he was of being found out.<\/p>\n
‘Let’s not overreact. \u00a0He doesn’t know anything.\u00a0 He mostly talked about his divorce and going back on the dating scene.\u00a0 I felt sorry for him.’<\/p>\n
‘He’s having a whale of a time, can’t stop talking about it.’<\/p>\n
‘He’s trying to make himself feel better.\u00a0 God, men are so unobservant.’<\/p>\n
He’d never liked being lumped in with “men”.\u00a0 She hadn’t done that before.\u00a0 This was a new feeling between them: him being annoyed by the fact that she was finding him annoying.\u00a0 “You’re at that stage,” a voice said in his head.<\/p>\n
‘Look,’ she sat by him and took his hand.\u00a0 ‘Walker’s a bit boring and sweaty, but he’s harmless.\u00a0 His wife is divorcing him.\u00a0 You know, whatever the circumstances, a divorce is a huge thing.\u00a0 It’s like losing a limb.’<\/p>\n
The whole climate of the room seemed to change.<\/p>\n
She looked at him with a tender concern that worried rather than comforted him.\u00a0 ‘I wasn’t saying that about you!<\/p>\n
‘But it’s what you’re thinking.’<\/p>\n
‘I wasn’t thinking.’\u00a0 She stroked the backs of his hands with her thumbs.\u00a0 ‘You know my sister got divorced.’<\/p>\n
He did know that, but he hadn’t thought about Fiona having some personal knowledge of divorce, even at second hand.\u00a0 There seemed only one thing to say next, and he made himself do it.<\/p>\n
‘Are you – changing your mind?’<\/p>\n
She held his hand tighter.\u00a0 ‘I know you love me.’<\/p>\n
He loved her?<\/p>\n
‘We have \u2013 different lives.’\u00a0 She closed her eyes briefly and her face looked as smooth as a child’s.\u00a0 ‘If you want to stop – I mean – I don’t want to stop, but I would understand – if you did.\u00a0 We could be friends.’<\/p>\n
He knew she was being good and kind; showing love.\u00a0 And yet nobody wanted to hear the person they loved offering to be just friends, and he was filled with doubt and dread.\u00a0 He felt a familiar loneliness.<\/p>\n
‘I don’t want you as a friend.\u00a0 I’ve got a friend.’<\/p>\n
‘Patrick.\u00a0 But I know you love me partly because I’m like Patrick – Mark?’<\/p>\n
It hadn’t been his intention to storm off, but it had come on quickly.\u00a0 He locked the bathroom door and managed to get himself over\u00a0 the toilet bowl just as his stomach convulsed and he heard himself retch.\u00a0\u00a0 His eyes were watering, the smell was in his nose, and he found he was trembling slightly.\u00a0 It was how he remembered it as a boy, vomiting.\u00a0 He wondered if he’d just had too much to drink.\u00a0 Perhaps they both had.<\/p>\n
‘Mark?\u00a0 Are you ok, honey?’<\/p>\n
‘Just give me a minute.’\u00a0 Had she called him that before?\u00a0 It was what Sarah called him.<\/p>\n
He blew his nose and flushed the toilet.\u00a0 Suddenly he longed for a friendly voice, someone to talk things over with.\u00a0 But who was there?\u00a0 Sarah, his wife, and Patrick, his best friend, were the only people he went to for help.<\/p>\n
He leant against the door, slid himself down onto the cool bathroom floor and huddled into the doorframe.<\/p>\n
‘Are you all right?’<\/p>\n
He was surprised to hear Fiona’s voice so close to his ear, on the other side of the door.<\/p>\n
‘I’m ok.’\u00a0 Then: ‘Have you really never missed being married or having children?’\u00a0 He put his ear to the door.<\/p>\n
‘But – \u00a0you know.\u00a0 I wasn’t against it.\u00a0 Well, maybe I was, a bit, when I was younger.\u00a0 It just didn’t happen, and I didn’t feel like I needed it to happen to be happy.’\u00a0 She paused.\u00a0 ‘You said you were never desperate to have kids?’<\/p>\n
He was sure now she was sitting on the other side of the door, and they were only separated by about two inches of whatever the door was made of.\u00a0 ‘We couldn’t decide.\u00a0 So we just decided to stop using contraception, and it happened.\u00a0 And then Sarah thought Michael shouldn’t be an only child, so \u2026’\u00a0 His tailbone was beginning to ache.<\/p>\n
Fiona carried on: ‘I’ve always been ok on my own.\u00a0 If I choose to be with someone it’s because I want to, not because I need to.\u00a0 That’s better, isn’t it?’\u00a0 She stopped.\u00a0 ‘We’ve talked about all this.\u00a0 Nothing is a sure thing.\u00a0 We just have to try.\u00a0 If we want to.’<\/p>\n
‘I know.’\u00a0 The crack of his knees echoed across the bathroom as he got up.\u00a0 His back was stiff.\u00a0 “Need an old-man back rub?”\u00a0 Sarah’s voice said.\u00a0 He hadn’t told Fiona about the back rubs.<\/p>\n
‘Mark.’\u00a0 Fiona was calling.\u00a0 ‘Are you coming out?’<\/p>\n
That was when it hit him.\u00a0 He knew it was ridiculous, morbid.\u00a0 But once the thought was in, he couldn’t get it out, and if you were going to change your life you had to think of everything –\u00a0 didn’t you? \u2013 look at it from every angle.\u00a0 So: What if one of the children died?\u00a0 They were grown, not the little girl who asked to be carried “as a special treat” or the boy who ran like a blur.\u00a0 But there it was.\u00a0 If the unthinkable happened, who would you want to see?\u00a0 Whose voice would you want to hear?\u00a0 It was more likely, of course, that he would die.\u00a0 And then how would they feel if he died belonging to Fiona and not to them?<\/p>\n
Spot and Sis.\u00a0 Michael and Sophie.\u00a0 Patrick.\u00a0 They were all tangled together like the cables behind the television.\u00a0 If you took things apart, re-arranged them, would they ever work properly again?\u00a0 “But isn’t that what you wanted to do?\u00a0 Break out, be yourself?”\u00a0 There, Fiona’s voice, in his head.\u00a0 But that was the trouble: they were there, all the voices, and the questions, but he couldn’t tell if they were his questions, or only questions he imagined being asked by the other voices.<\/p>\n
‘Mark.\u00a0 Honey.\u00a0 Are you ready?\u00a0 Are you coming out?’<\/p>\n
He didn’t know if he was ready.\u00a0 He didn’t know if he was coming out.\u00a0 If he did come out, he didn’t know if something was going to happen.\u00a0 If something did happen, he didn’t know what would happen.<\/p>\n
He was looking for the truth of the thing, the fact of the matter, and there should have been a voice, his voice, telling him what that was.<\/p>\n
There was no voice.<\/p>\n
He went over to the sink, automatically noting the wrapped miniature bars of scented soap which he would take home for Sarah, as he always did if he went away without her.<\/p>\n
He opened the tap and let the water run into his cupped hands, where it shimmered momentarily before gradually seeping down and trickling away.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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‘Jesus, if I have to watch another PowerPoint presentation I swear I’m going to rip my own head off.’\u00a0 He was looking at the ceiling, not at anything else, and she was holding his hand under the covers.\u00a0 He liked it that he knew she was there without having to look. ‘Ah, remember what Clooney […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":88,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[304,303],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n