"It's not an act," I squeaked.

"Claire," he said, smiling indulgently, "stop it! I must admit you really had me going at one stage. I nearly believed that you were serious. Did you really have to go through the charade of getting the deed sent over?

Wasn't that a bit over the top?"

"James," I said faintly.311.

He seemed to take this as some kind of capitulation. He put his arms around me and pulled me to him. I sat there with my head poised stiffly on his shoulder.

"Look, I know you've been very difficult. Bloody difficult," he said. I could hear the rueful smile in his voice. "But I can see that you're making an effort. I can see how hard you're trying to convince me that you're responsible and grown-up and considerate now."

"I am?" I asked.

"Yes," he said kindly. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes.

"You are."

"So, we can get rid of these for a start." He rustled the papers on the table and pushed them all into an untidy pile.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because we won't be selling the apartment." He smiled.

He looked a bit more carefully at my white, shocked face.

"Oh God." He slapped his hand dramatically to his forehead. "You haven't realized, have you?"

"No," I said.

He grabbed me forcefully by the shoulders and put his face close to mine.

"I love you," he said with a little laugh. "You little silly girl, hadn't you realized?"

"No," I said, feeling as if I might burst into tears.

Isn't it odd how relief can sometimes feel very much like dread?

How happiness can feel like disappointment?

"Why did you think I came to Dublin?" He shook me gently by the shoulders and gave me that same indulgent smile.

"I don't know," I faltered. "Maybe to clean up loose ends."

"I suppose you thought I'd never forgive you for the way you behaved?"

Actually, no, I wasn't thinking anything of the sort, I thought.

"But I have have forgiven you," he told me nicely. "I'm prepared to make a go of things in the future. I'm sure things will be very different because you've grown up so much." forgiven you," he told me nicely. "I'm prepared to make a go of things in the future. I'm sure things will be very different because you've grown up so much."

I nodded mutely.

Why wasn't I happy?

He still loved me.

He had never stopped loving me.312.

I had driven him away.

But I was different now and things could be fixed.

Wasn't that what I wanted?

Well, wasn't it?

He looked at my silent, shocked face and chucked me under the chin.

"You're not still put out about that business with Denise, are you?" he asked, as if that was a totally ludicrous idea.

"Well, actually, I am," I said in a little voice. I felt that I had no right to complain about anything now that he was being so nice to me.

"But it was nothing," he protested laughingly. "It was just a reaction to the way you made me feel. I'm sure that you won't make that mistake again." He smiled as if it were funny.

But it wasn't.

"Um, right, James," I said. I felt as if my head was going to explode. I had to get away from him for a while.

"James," I said faintly, "this has come as a terrible-"

"Surprise!" he interjected. "I know, I know."

"I need to be on my own to think about things a bit."

"What's there to think about?" he asked lightly.

"James," I said, "you hurt me an awful lot. Hurt me and humiliated me.

I can't just bounce out of that feeling to please you."

"Oh dear," he sighed. "We're back to 'poor Claire' all over again. I thought you'd changed. What about the ways you hurt and humiliated me?"

"But I never meant to..."

"Well, I never set out to hurt you either," he replied. A slightly impatient tone in his voice. "It just happened."

"But you said you loved loved Denise," I said, remembering the part that hurt most of all. Denise," I said, remembering the part that hurt most of all.

"I thought thought I loved her," he said carefully, as if he was explaining something to a very young child. "But it turned out that I didn't." I loved her," he said carefully, as if he was explaining something to a very young child. "But it turned out that I didn't."

There was a pause.

Then he spoke.

"Fine, all right!" he said belligerently. "You want me to admit that I made a mistake. Fine, I'll do it. Just to show you how committed I am to making this marriage work."313.

He paused and said in a singsong voice, sounding like a little boy, the type of little boy you'd like to kill, "'I Made a Mistake.' Will that do you?"

"Um, thank you," I said politely.

Would he please just go go.

"Of course, if you're going to hang on to grudges and grievances then there's no point in my being here, is there?" he asked. "If that's the case I'll just go straight to the airport and go back to London and I'll never refer to this again."

"No, don't do that." I felt panicky at the thought of his leaving me again.

I also felt panicky about the thought of his staying.

This was too much to cope with.

The fucker left me out of the blue.

He arrived back and told me it was all my fault that he left me.

But that he still loved me and wanted to try again.

Was that the behavior of a logical person?

"Claire," he said, back to the gentle nice guy James, "I can see how overwhelmed you are by all of this. It's perfectly understandable. You thought you were all alone. And now you find that you have your old happy life back. It must be hard to take in all at once."

"That's right," I mumbled.

"So I'll leave you by yourself for a couple of hours."

"Thanks." I sagged with relief.

"I'll see about plane tickets. What day would you like to fly back to London?"

"Oh, I don't know." Panic gripped me again. I didn't want to go back to London. At least I didn't want to go back with James.

"No time like the present, eh?" He winked. "How long will it take you to pack?"

"Oh James, I don't know," I said, feeling horrorstruck. "A long time, probably, what with all Kate's stuff and that."

"Oh yes, Kate," he said, as if he'd just remembered her. "I'd better book her on the plane too."

"Well, don't do anything just yet," I said. "Give me a little bit of time to think things through."

"Well," he said, frowning, "I'm missing work by being 314 here. So I'd like to get back as soon as possible, now that we've got things worked out."

"I'll talk to you later about it," I said, guiding him toward the front door.

"Well, don't take too long about it," he said, "after all..."

"Time is money, I know, I know," I wearily finished off the sentence for him.

I closed the door behind him and stood for a moment, leaning against the door, feeling quite weak.

"Is he gone?" hissed a voice.

It was Mum, sticking her head out of her bedroom and looking down at me in the hall.

"Yes," I said.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking in my shocked appearance.

"Nothing," I said faintly.

"Good," she said.

"James told me he still loves me," I said blankly.

"What!" she screeched.

"I hope you told him where to stick it," shouted a voice from behind Mum.

"Claire, Claire," said Mum, running down the stairs, "come in. Sit down.

Tell me all about it. This is great news."

She guided me to the kitchen.

"Where's Kate?" she asked.

"In the dining room," I said, sitting down weakly at the kitchen table.

"I'll get her," said Mum, and off she ran.

She was back in a moment, her face all eager and agog.

"So what did he say?" she demanded impatiently.

"He said that he still loves me and wants me back," I said expressionlessly.

"Well, isn't that great?" exclaimed Mum.

"I suppose," I said doubtfully.

"And what was the situation with this Denise one?" she asked, looking at me carefully.