"Oh, sweetheart, don't-"

"You're telling me that you have made Dad feel guilty for the past eleven years of his life because you weren't a.s.sertive enough to say you wanted to end the marriage?"

"Subconsciously darling," conceded Jane. "Men didn't like a.s.sertive women then."

"Oh, so it was all of men's fault, not just Dad's?"

"No, I just..."

Josh stared some more.

"How on earth did you 'make' him have the affair with his secretary?"

"Oh that was easy," said Jane. "I just kept telling him how beautiful she was, how s.e.xy, drip, drip, drip, then stopped having s.e.x with him."

"Aha!" Josh slammed the table with the palm of his hand. "That does not give him permission to have an affair. He was the guilty one there."

"And then I told him I thought we should have an open marriage, and I might sleep with the grocer. He had very big hands as I recall."

Josh did another fish impression.

"Josh, please don't look at me like that. It's so unattractive, I can't tell you."

"You mean you gave Dad permission to have an affair-practically told him to-and then castrated him for it?" he said. "How...how dare you?"

"I know," gasped Jane. "I feel wretched."

"He's been feeling guilty for the past eleven years; I've been feeling abandoned for almost half my life, Toby has wrapped a sh.e.l.l around him that's almost impossible to break through, and both of us have grown up feeling guilty about being men because of what happened to our poor mother!"

"Oh don't exaggerate, Joshi, you always did exaggerate."

"I'm not exaggerating!" burst Josh. "When I was fourteen years old-probably my most vulnerable-you convinced me that my father had abandoned me for his f.u.c.king secretary-chosen her over me-"

"He didn't leave you-"

"He did leave me!" cried Josh. "Of course he left me. You think he popped into my room every evening to see how my revision was going? You think he scooted by every morning to wish me good luck for my exams over breakfast? You think he was there for me when my body grew a mind of its own? He left me. My father left me. For some s.l.u.t in his office."

Jane turned to the two women at the table next to them who had stopped talking and were now openly staring. She gave them a charming smile and stage-whispered, "He's just getting off antidepressants."

The women nodded sympathetically and turned back to their food.

"Mum!"

"What?" Jane was all innocence. "Everyone's on them nowadays."

Josh slumped over the table.

Jane stared at her son. "Martin would say it's time for you to own your own emotions, instead of blaming others."

"f.u.c.k Martin."

"Ah well, I was coming to tha-"

"Mum. Please." Josh held his hand up to her, blocking his face. "One traumatic revelation at a time, thank you."

"For what it's worth," said Jane, "your father didn't want to leave you. I...well, I sort of forced him to."

"Oh G.o.d."

"He wanted us to live separate lives but in the same house, so that he wouldn't miss you both growing up."

Another fish impression. Jane let it go.

"But I'm afraid I couldn't allow it." She took some wine.

Josh hid his face with his hand. After a while, he started mumbling through it, and Jane had difficulty hearing everything.

"I've spent the past decade being wary of women," she heard. "I've seen every unattached woman as a threat to family life."

Jane frowned hard at her son. "Do you think that's why you have such a problem? With women?" she asked hesitantly.

"Pardon?" Josh looked up.

"Well, you always go for very easy women, darling, and then detest them for being exactly that."

"That's a bit harsh."

"What's the longest relationship you've ever had?"

"Two very long months."

"The one that ended because you thought she was having an affair?"

"Yes."

"So you cheated on her?"

"Yes."

"Twice?"

"Yes."

"I always wondered where your misogyny came from," said Jane. "Now I know." She took another gulp of wine. "Have you ever thought of therapy? Martin's marvelous. He's saved my life."

Josh bent his head down.

"I can't-I don't know-I..."

"I didn't know what I was doing," urged Jane.

Josh looked at his mother. "Up till now I thought you were the only one who was innocent in the whole mess that is my life," he said.

"Your life is not a mess." It was the first time he heard emotion in her voice.

"Mum," he tried to explain, "to me you were practically the Virgin Mother."

"Well, perhaps it's time you realized that's not possible."

He paused.

"I was speaking metaphorically."

"Yes, but, darling, I do think you have a tendency to see women metaphorically. Do you see? Rather than as flawed human beings, like men."

Josh blinked hard, "Maybe that's because my mother convinced me she was perfect, and my father was evil personified."

"Yes, well," said Jane with some difficulty. "When two people are involved, it's usually not as simple as that."

"You mean, you made mistakes too?"

Jane squirmed in her seat. "I am able to confess that...it was not entirely your father's fault that we divorced."

She looked down before pouring herself more wine.

"Excuse me," said Josh in a low voice, "while I just reposition my entire life map."

"I didn't do it on purpose, darling," insisted Jane. "I was desperately unhappy." She held his hand across the table. "Your father's and my marriage was doomed. We're both far happier without each other. The only good thing about our marriage was you and Toby. And you both still are. Why do you think we're still in touch at all? We've got the most amazing children in common."

"I need a drink," whispered Josh, wiping his face.

"Of course you do, my darling," said his mother, pa.s.sing him her napkin. "I really am terribly sorry."

After two vodkas, Josh was able to see things more clearly.

"So," he said slowly, "Dad did not want to leave me and Tobe, you admit that he was not entirely to blame for your divorce, and I'm a misogynist."

"Yes," said Jane thoughtfully. "You know, perhaps you should try some antidepressants."

"Thank you, Mother," said Josh. "But not when I've only just come off them."

When Jo arrived home from her walk, she shut her parents' front door behind her and called out.

"I'm home!"

"We're in here!" came her father's voice from the lounge. "There's a pot just made."

Jo took off her shoes and left them by the front door.

Her parents were sitting side by side on the sofa, a sight she couldn't remember seeing since her father's new armchair had been bought ten years before.

"How was Sheila, pet?" asked Bill.

Jo sat down on his armchair and swiveled it round to face them.

"Not good," she said. "She's finished with James."

"What?" cried Bill. "And her with all that weight to lose? She'll never find another man. The girl's mad."

"She already has, apparently."

"Who?"

"She wouldn't tell."

"Blimey," breathed Hilda softly, and they laughed.

"And I finished with Shaun."

"What?" cried Bill.

"I finished with Shaun."

Bill knew this had to be handled sensitively. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"Are you stark raving mad?" he cried. "He had everything! Men like him don't grow on trees you know!"

"Well, you marry him then!" shouted Jo.

There was a stunned silence.

"Mum, Dad," she said quickly. "I've got something to tell you."

"Oh my G.o.d," said Bill. "You're pregnant."

"I am not!"

"Thank you, G.o.d," said Bill, genuflecting.

"Quiet," said Hilda.

There was quiet.

"I'm going to go to university," said Jo.

There was a pause.

"Over my dead body," whispered her father.