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It is for me.

Yes I know it is.

I’ve got to treat it seriously, he muttered, getting the key into the lock, it’s important, important for me. . Oh God! He sighed. Life eh? Life. He smiled. An old couple like that too, imagine getting put out their house because of arrears, would it no sicken you? It’s appalling, you’re right what you said up the stair. Edward turned and frowned at Deborah: Or else do you fancy going out for a meal?

Out for a meal?

We could go for something to eat, I’m starving, quite hungry. He pushed the door open and entered, waited for her then shut it afterwards. He sighed again. All the stuff on the table. He walked to it and shook his head and he smiled. Ach I dont know Deborah, sometimes I feel as if I’m just making no headway at all. He breathed to get air he was going to faint, and he had got to get a chair onto the seat to sit down oh God, the Lord my God.

Edward!

Oh m’God.

What’s wrong?

So bloody bad.

Edward.

His face down on the table the smell of the paper. I’m so God awful

Are you alright?

No, no, I’m no, I’m no feeling good I’m no feeling good I’m no feeling good

What’s wrong?

Aw Jesus

She put her arms round his neck and shoulders. You’re shivering. .

He peered upwards from the table. There was a smudge on the wall where he had killed the insect. It was funny how your life went. He was in the tennis league as a boy. He had quite enjoyed it. Him and the others used to have masturbation contests some nights. But if it was possible to give all his woes to this old invalid then that would be that and he would have given them to him and that would be him okay again, like a new start was being made and he would never ever ever again in his whole life ever think of straying again because it was just sex, it was sex, male sexuality and he was sick to death of such things trying to take over your life, trying to dictate the terms of life to you, as if you had no say in the matter and were there just at the beck and call of your erections, any woman who wanted to flash herself at you, and you were finished.

Oh God God God. And it was like it was going to be as if the old guy with the bad legs had been sent down here to help him in his hour of need. That was what it had been like. Edward raised his head and glanced at Deborah’s wrists. Because there was something in how that old guy had looked, a sort of honesty, as if there were no clouds surrounding him at all. What like was it it was something

He didnt want to think, he didnt want to

The kind of thing that was difficult.

She wasnt the usual kind of woman how could you say she was, she wasnt. What like was she with her sister? Her smell. Deborah had a smell. It was a smell of skin, how her skin gave a smell that was different. His shoulders were now weak. How they were weak. He also felt cold. One time with the tennis league from school camp they were on this what they called ‘manoeuvre’, pretending to be commando troops and Bob Finlay had cheroots from Holland he had stolen off a prefect and they had all smoked them. My God was that bad! So terrible and bad and maybe the worst queasiness he had ever experienced. You had to grow up and get involved as an adult, a man, you had to get to be a man, like that old invalid and the troubles all over the world what a span of mind he had, somebody that kept going in spite of his handicap and did all the things he did. Edward just to be honest felt he would never have coped with being shut in, stuck in offices with crowds of folk in shirts and ties and smart outfits and all the pecking orders.

Your memories just come. We dont have any control. The good Lord made us with memory boxes. Inside each one of them as well is the Voice of Conscience. And the Voice isnt your own. As well as that it’s in touch with everybody else’s. It was part of how the Voice could say what was right and wrong. It had the insight because it had some sort of ghostly communication with everything.

The door opened and Deborah came in. She hadnt been holding him. She must have gone away when he wasnt looking. Now she was back again and holding a cup. Drink this, she said, it’s just water. He took the cup and she held it to his mouth as he turned his head to sip it, her face staring at him. You look bad. He closed his eyes.

I feel like a bad sinner he rushed on and gazing straight at her, It’s a feeling all day maybe I’m working too hard, no sleeping enough. He stared at her. I dont get on with Jeanette you know I was meaning to tell you that. She’s your sister but I dont. I just dont. And I cant help it.

What? What d’you mean?

I dont get on with her and dont want to see her again, that’s all. It’s like there’s something wrong, wrong. He sipped the water then lifted the nearest folder and flicked at a page. He said, D’you want to get something to eat?

But what are you saying about Jeanette?

Nothing.

Yes you are.

I’m not, honest.

You dont get on with her? You’re saying you dont get on with her.

It doesnt matter.

It does.

It doesnt.

But it does Edward, it matters, if you dont like my sister.

I dont, it’s just — I dont not like her at all, it’s just

Just what?

It’s just. . He sighed. I thought we were going for a curry.

Well I didn’t know what we were doing.

D’you not want to

Edward, for God sake!

She had taken her coat off. And the kettle was going. He stared into the cup of water. There was something wrong with him. He wasnt a good man. It was as plain as the nose on your face. He just hadnt seen it before. He hadnt seen. It had always been there but he just hadnt looked. Other people had seen but he hadnt. They all knew it. Except him.

Oh Christ

She had pushed him on the shoulder. What’s up with you! she cried.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just no well, leave me alone.

What’s wrong?

There’s nothing wrong, I’m just

She was staring at him.

My head

She was so staring at him.

My head

Her mouth going what’s wrong, what’s wrong. It’s my head I’ve just got a sore head it’s so bloody sore and my insides, wracking and dry I’m just all dry inside and I need water. He gulped a mouthful from the cup and it shook in his hand and he put his other round it steadying it, getting it firm but his hands were shaking it maybe he needed food, maybe that’s what it was.

But was it him?

Fine

What?

Deborah smiling

What is it? he said, he smiled. It wasnt me, he said, it was her, it was her. If she claims about me, it was her — because

because it was her seduced him, it wasnt him, he didnt seduce her, that was the so bloody unlucky thing about it, the whole business, because he was the man, that’s how it went, that was the trials and tribulations of it, just being a man, the maleness; it was so unlucky it

he gestured at the A4 folders. I just dont know what to do with my life.

That’s fine but tell me?

I killed an insect earlier on

I dont want to hear about a bloody insect Edward I want to hear about what you’re saying about Jeanette!

But Deborah I just squashed the thing, the wee soul, I just actually killed it, in cold blood, just like you would I dont know I was going to say kill a beetle, that’s how bad it is for the poor wee creatures. It’s become a byword for it all, death and destruction and just wanton brutality, even the way you sell your equipment to people, how the guys just gyp people into buying rubbish they dont want. The whole thing, it’s just so awful, it’s terrible and wanton and just goes against everything God stands for. People dont want that sort of life. They dont. They dont want it. It shouldnt be forced on us.