"And no more Denise?" I asked.

"No more anyone, if things work out," he said.

I didn't like the veiled threat in that.

"James," I said nervously, "you know, I'm not finding this easy. I still feel betrayed and hurt. And that won't go away immediately."

"No," he agreed in his ultrareasonable tone. "Maybe not immediately. But you must work on getting rid of those feelings, mustn't you? There's no future in this if you can't forgive me."

"I know," I said, almost sorry that I had mentioned it.

Then I took a deep breath.

"You were wrong too, weren't you?"

"I've already admitted that," he said coldly. "Are we going to have to go through this every day for the rest of our lives?"

"Well, no...but..." I said.

"But nothing," he said. "It's in the past now. We have to forget it and look to the future."

That's a lot easier for you than it is for me, I thought. But I didn't say it. There was no point. It was getting me nowhere.

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"Well, when should I reserve the tickets for going back to London?" he said, breaking my resentful silence.

"Oh James, I don't know. I'll need a couple of days to get everything sorted out," I said.

The thought of leaving was horrifying.

"Claire, I can't wait a couple of days more," he said irritably, "I've got a lot of work to do at the moment."

"Well, aren't you lucky that I agreed to come back to you in just two days?" I asked bitterly. "What if I'd put up a fight and it had taken you a whole week to convince me?"

"Now, Claire," he said smoothly, "there's no good in thinking like that. I have convinced you. That's the main thing."

A pause.

"I have convinced you, haven't I?" he asked. And if I hadn't known better, I'd almost have said that he sounded uncertain.

"Yes, James," I said dully, "you've convinced me."

"It'll be fine," he said, "you'll see."

"Yes," I said, feeling far from sure, but I didn't have the energy or the inclination to disagree with him.

"James, you might as well go back to London right away," I suggested. "I'll come early next week with Kate."

"Why will it take you a whole week?" He sounded annoyed.

"Well...I've got people to say good-bye to...and things..." I faltered.

"I'd prefer if you came sooner," he said sternly.

"No, James, really, I'm sorry, but...I need time to adjust," I said weakly.

"Just so long as you don't change your mind," he said with what sounded like a forced guffaw.

"I won't," I said wearily, knowing that I couldn't. "I won't."

"Good!" he said. "Well then, I suppose I'll head back to London imme- diately. If I go to the airport now I'll be able to pick up a flight. I wonder if I can get a refund on tonight's accommodation?"

"What a pity I didn't make up my mind and tell you sooner," I said. "It's probably too late now to get your money back for tonight."

"Never mind," he said kindly, "it couldn't be helped."

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What an asshole! I was being totally sarcastic! "I'll call you tonight when I get home," he promised. "You do that," I said quietly. "Give my love to Kate," he said. "I will." "And see you soon." "Yes, see you soon."

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thirty-one

"So when are you leaving?" asked Mum.

"You're leaving?" screeched Helen.

"Yes," I mumbled, aware of how weak and pathetic I must look in her eyes.

"I think you're crazy," she exclaimed.

"But Helen, you don't understand..." I struggled to explain to her. "It wasn't his fault. He had a really hard time with me. I was so demanding and childish. And he couldn't cope. So he looked elsewhere out of desper- ation."

"And you believe that?" she asked, sneering in disgust. "You're crazy. It's bad enough that he was sleeping with someone else, but for him to blame it all on you, well, that's just totally crazy. Have you no self-respect?"

"Helen, it's more important that self-respect," I insisted, desperately trying to convince her. Maybe if I convinced her, I might even convince myself.

"He's the father of my child. And we were happy together. Very happy"--because we had been--"and if we work at it, we can be again."

"So how come you look so miserable?" she demanded. "Shouldn't you be happy? The man you love is taking you back. Even though he was un- faithful to you."

"Helen, that's enough," said Mum in a warning tone. "You can't under- stand. You've never been married. You've never had a child."

"Well, I certainly never want to, if it turns me into a total

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basket case like her," she stormed, looking at me with contempt.

"You're crazy!"

And she thumped out of the room.

Silence followed.

"She has a point," Mum eventually said.

"What do you mean?" I asked listlessly.

"Well, you don't seem very, well...happy exactly. You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No," I sighed. "I'm not. I owe it to all of us to try again. But I feel it's all wrong. I feel manipulated. I feel kind of steam-rollered by him. As though he wasn't going to take no for an answer. I sort of feel as though I'm lucky to get him back. Yes, that's how he makes me feel. Lucky!"

"But aren't you lucky to get a second chance? Not every woman does," said Mum.

"No, not that sort of lucky," I said, desperate to make her understand, to understand myself. "He makes me feel I'm lucky even though I don't deserve it. As though he's being nice to me even though he doesn't have to be. But because he's a good person. Out of the goodness of his heart. Or something. I don't really know. But it does feel wrong."

"But he is being nice to you," she said, seizing on the one important thing to her.

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"