never usually wore stuff like this. It felt like too much of a prompt. Still, tonight’s celebration was all well and good but it couldn’t hide the fact recently something between us had fractured, just below the surface. And so, even though it felt like I was decorating the fissures and cracks splitting their way up our walls with patterned paper and fairy lights, I found myself doing it anyway. I found myself having to try.
It hadn’t always been like this. We used to be the kind of couple that had sex anywhere, anyhow. On our first holiday together we went to Paxos, a tiny Greek island. Out for a walk one morning, we’d come across a deserted cove. To get to it we had to climb down a hill. We’d been kissing before we even reached the bottom. I remembered how the beach had these spine-bruising white pebbles that warmed our skin. As I’d climbed on top of Jason, I’d struggled to get traction on the scree and the movement had sent hundreds of the stones clattering down towards the sea. Sweat had pooled in Jason’s clavicle, mixing with his sun cream. As we got close, he’d sat up, and the sweat and the cream had run down his chest in neat white lines. Afterwards, we’d waded into the water holding hands and the green seaweed had floated loose like grass around our calves.
‘While I remember, I need a favour,’ said Jason. He wet his forefinger with his tongue and used the moisture to pick up a stray piece of poppadom. ‘You know I’m being assessed in December?’
I nodded. Jason was now booked in for the exam that, if he passed, would take him up to the next level of first-aid instructor.
‘I want you to come and observe me teaching. I thought you could take notes, let me know if there’s anything I can improve on.’
‘I’ll be there,’ I said, giving him a mini-salute. ‘What day is the class, Saturday or Sunday?’
‘Actually, it’s a Tuesday. I was hoping you might take the day off.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, already imagining Yvonne’s face were I to ask for last-minute leave just over a week after my formal warning. ‘I’ve got quite a lot on. Can’t I come to your next weekend session?’
‘You could, but the thing I really need to brush up on is my’ – he stopped and sat up straight, ready to reel off the course’s formal title – ‘ “Communication With Mixed Age And Ability” module.’ He relaxed again. ‘Those classes only run during the week.’
I tapped my fingers on the table, not sure what to do. I hadn’t told him about my warning and so he was oblivious to just how tricky things were at work. I looked across to where he sat with his eyes focused on the tablecloth. This exam was important to him. I’d find a way to make it work.
‘In that case,’ I grinned, ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
He looked up in surprise.
‘Thank you,’ he said, leaning across to give me a kiss. ‘I knew I could count on you.’
I reached for the dessert menu and was about to offer it to Jason when I noticed the waiter seating a couple at the next table. The woman was heavily pregnant and, much to her dismay, the waiter was making a huge fuss, pulling out her chair and gasping at the size of her bump. We both watched in silence and, once the show was over, I made sure to catch Jason’s eye.
‘I’m not getting any younger and we’re not always all that careful,’ I said, alluding to our hit-and-miss approach to contraception. Most couples had ‘the baby talk’ at the start of a relationship, once things started to get serious, but when we’d first got together we’d been understandably distracted by other topics. Every now and again the subject would come up in conversation and we’d dance around it, an elaborate tiptoe that, despite my best efforts, never really went anywhere. I reached my foot under the table and pressed my leg against his. I was sick of tiptoeing. I needed to know where I stood on the matter. Where we stood. ‘Do you think you’ll ever want to become a father again?’
‘Again? I still am a father.’
‘I didn’t mean that – you mustn’t think that’s what I meant.’ I felt him move his leg away from mine. ‘I meant, would you ever want another child. With me?’