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it too far, and she gets up to go to him, to comfort him, misinterpreting his tears for pain at the realization that he is infertile. She reaches out her arms and he pushes her away.

“You fucking bitch,” he says again. “Now I know why our relationship is so shit. Now I know why we hardly speak anymore, other than to argue. You blame me. You think you're perfect and I'm not and you hate me for it, don't you?”

“No . . . ,” she falters. “I don't, I didn't want you to know, though. I thought maybe in time it would just happen.”

“There's only one thing I do know,” Mark says, picking up his coat. “You've got some bloody nerve accusing me. So you had an abortion over ten years ago. So what? You're just as likely to have the problem yourself.” He puts his coat on as Julia watches him in fear.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” And he turns round and slams the front door behind him.

Oh shit. Oh shit. What has she done? Julia paces nervously around the living room. She phones Sam, desperate to talk, but the answering machine is on, and there seems to be a fault on the line of the mobile phone Bella's rented while she's here.

She pours herself a glass of wine and is astonished to see her hand is trembling. What has she done? What has she done?

Is it too late?

She didn't mean to say those things. Or maybe she did. As scared as she is that this might be it, that she might have thrown away her man, her security, her life of the past four years, she needed to say those things.

A pressure cooker. That's it. She has been a pressure cooker, slowly building up steam but suppressing it, trying not to rock the boat with the force of her anger, her resentments, and now that she has blown the lid off she is terrified. It also feels pretty good.

Good not to have to hide it anymore. Surely she can repair this? Surely Mark will come back later this evening, still hurt, pride wounded, but she will be able to kiss it all better and restore the equilibrium?

She calls Mark. Repeatedly. His mobile is switched off, and she is too edgy to do anything other than sit next to the phone pressing the redial button. Oh God. What has she done? The more time passes, the worse she feels.

The hours stretch out. Eight o'clock. Nine o'clock. Ten o'clock. At eleven she starts to feel a little easier, because where could he have gone other than the pub, and the pub will be closing, he will be home soon.

At eleven-thirty she bursts into tears, this time, finally, reaching Bella at her hotel.

“Where've you been, for Chrissakes?” she blurts out, voice thick with tears.

“Julia? Is that you? What's happened?”

“I think Mark may have left me,” and vocalizing it makes it a real possibility. A possible reality. Julia bursts into tears.

“I'll come over,” Bella says, but Julia stops her.

“No. No. You don't have to come over.” Bella is secretly relieved, given that she is staying in the Metropolitan and is in no mood to shlep back to Gospel Oak today. Once is quite enough, thank you.

Julia tells Bella what happened after Bella left the house, embarrassed at Mark finding them draped in the sheets and baby-dancing.

“Shit,” Bella says. “Where do you think he is?”

“I don't know,” weeps Julia. “I wish I'd never said anything. I wish this day had never happened.”

“You know what I think you need? You need a holiday.”

“We're planning on going to Majorca this summer. We were. Before he left.” A fresh round of sobs and Bella waits patiently until there is a gap in the hiccups.

“I don't mean you and Mark. I mean you. Why don't you come back to New York with me? The office phoned just before and I'm needed back. Urgently. They've booked me on a flight tomorrow lunchtime. Bet you there are still seats.”

“New York?” Julia's tears are drying up already. “New York?” It's an interesting proposition, and Bella can hear that she is eyeing up the bait. Even though she may not be hungry, she's certainly interested. It's enough of a start.

“You could ring now and book it, and you wouldn't have to spend any money on hotels or anything as you're more than welcome to sleep on my sofa bed, and we'd have the most fantastic time, and God knows you need a

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