Another bellow of laughter from George.

By now I was sure that George wasn't making fun of me. That this wasn't some kind of elaborate and cruel trick. George sounded very serious. But I couldn't understand why his version of events was so different from the one James had presented to me.

I wasn't sick of hearing the word sorry. I would have dearly loved to hear the word sorry. But I didn't think I would have recognized sorry--certainly not from James's lips--if it jumped up and bit me.

But I had to pay attention because George was off again.

"The weird thing was that James always thought that you'd be the one to have an affair and not him."

"Why's that?" I asked. Although I kind of knew what he meant. I was always perceived as the rowdy one and James as the Goody-Two-Shoes.

"Because you've always been the party animal," said George. "The lively, charismatic one. And James never thought he was good enough for you," continued George. "Never! Always afraid that he was too serious and boring for you. Us

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accountants don't have an easy time with the women, you know. They think we're not exciting enough, would you believe?"

"I never knew that James thought he was too serious and boring for me," I said faintly.

"Come on now," said George disbelievingly. "Wouldn't you agree that of the two of you, you're usually the life and soul of things?"

"Yes," I tentatively agreed, desperate to keep George talking.

"And James!" George laughed. "Well you couldn't find a better bloke but at the same time he wouldn't exactly be surrounded by people and keeping them all in stitches, now, would he?"

"No, I suppose not," I said. "But if I was to quiet down a bit, then maybe he wouldn't feel so boring."

"But what would be the point of that?" exclaimed George. "Then you wouldn't be you."

"I know," I thought frantically. "But that's what James wants me to do."

"Well, maybe James didn't enjoy living with someone as noisy and lively as me," I suggested to George. "Maybe I got on his nerves."

What I was doing was unforgivable. I was now blatantly fishing for in- formation from George. I was encouraging him to shop his mate.

"Don't be so silly." George laughed. "Of course you didn't get on his nerves. He did find it difficult sometimes. But that was only his ego and his insecurity playing up. It can't always be easy living with someone who's a lot more popular than oneself."

"Oh," I said faintly. "I see."

And, do you know something? I think I did. I think I had started to un- derstand.

Should I tell George that?

But I had to think about everything I had just heard. I couldn't listen to any more or my head would burst.

I started to ease my way out of the conversation with George.

"How come you're such an expert on relationships all of a

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sudden?" I asked him teasingly. "You've gone all sensitive and new-man- nish on me."

"Oh, er," he said, sounding both embarrassed and pleased, "Aisling bought me a book about it."

"I see." I laughed. "Well, thanks a lot, George, you've been a great help."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad. Everything will work out, you'll see."

"Oh no, I won't," I thought.

"James was threatened [self-conscious usage of relationship jargon from George] by your vitality. Instead of realizing that your liveliness comple- mented [more self-consciousness] his calmness," said George, who sounded like he was quoting from a psychology textbook.

"But you can grow from this crisis and"--slightly embarrassed pause--" redefine the parameters of your relationship."

"Wow, George," I said, desperate to get him off the phone. I wasn't sure how much longer I could sustain this conversation. "You certainly have got in touch with your emotions."

"Yes," he said shyly. "I'm even exploring my feminine side."

This would be hilarious if I wasn't feeling so confused and frightened.

"George," I said, "it's a pleasure to talk to such a sensitive man. You have a great understanding of the dynamics of James and me. It's not every man who would be so in touch."

"Thank you, Claire," he said proudly. I could almost hear him beaming. "I feel as though I've learned an awful lot. And I'm no longer afraid to cry."

"Good, good," I said heartily, terrified that he might offer to give me a demonstration there and then.

How could I get him off the phone without sounding as if I wasn't inter- ested in his emotional growth? I thought desperately.

I found myself asking him another question.

"And do you care for and nurture your inner child?" I asked in a gentle voice.

"Er, what?" he asked, confused.

I had lost him. Aisling hadn't given him the sequel yet. "I haven't any children, Claire. You know that."

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"I know," I said kindly. No point in pushing him too far and undoing all the good work that Aisling had done.

"George..." I interrupted, abruptly cutting short his lyrical descriptions of how it had all worked out for James because James had followed his advice and how happy James and I were going to be and--

"George," I repeated a bit louder. I managed to get his attention.

"So, George, let me see if I've got this right," I said to him. "James loves me. James always loved me. James felt insecure and afraid that he might be too boring for me. Have I got that right?"

"But you know all this," said George, sounding confused.

"Just checking," I said lightly.

George was still prattling on. Maybe I was imagining things, but could he have been talking about something called the male period?

But I could barely listen to him. I had far more important things to worry about.

Namely, why had James told George that he loved me frantically and was afraid of losing me and why had he told me that I was damn near impossible to live with but he would take me back as almost an act of charity?

Even a blind man could see that there was a slight discrepancy between the two stories.

He was either lying to George or lying to me.