The Complete Man and Boy Trilogy: Man and Boy, Man and Wife, Men From the Boys

His face lit up when he saw me, and he jumped down off the desk, running to my arms and kissing me on the cheek with that fierceness he had learned from Gina.

As I held him and all those television people grinned at us and each other, I glimpsed the reality of my new brilliant career – the weekends spent writing a script, the meetings that started early and finished late, the hours and hours in a studio chilled to near freezing point to stop beads of sweat forming on the presenter’s forehead – and I knew that I would not be taking this job.

They liked the single father and son routine when it had a strictly limited run. But they wouldn’t like it when they saw me buggering off at six every night to make Pat’s fishfingers.

They wouldn’t like it at all.

Fifteen (#ulink_b3c66dc3-d0e9-539f-b9e7-38a2899b4c30)

I called Gina when Pat was staying overnight with my mum and dad. I had realised that I needed to talk to her. Really talk to her. Not just shout and whine and threaten. Tell her what was on my mind. Let her know what I was thinking.

‘Come home,’ I said. ‘I love you.’

‘How can you love someone – really love them – and sleep with someone else?’

‘I don’t know how to explain it. But it was easy.’

‘Well, forgiving is not quite so easy, okay?’

‘Christ, you really want to see me crawl, don’t you?’

‘It’s not about you, Harry. It’s about me.’

‘What about our life together? We have a life together, don’t we? How can you throw all that away because of one mistake?’

‘I didn’t throw it away. You did.’

‘Don’t you love me any more?’

‘Of course I love you, you stupid bastard. But I’m not in love with you.’

‘Wait a minute. You love me, but you’re not in love with me?’

‘You hurt me too much. And you’ll do it again. And next time you won’t feel quite so much guilt. Next time you’ll be able to justify it to yourself. Then one day you’ll meet someone you really like. Someone you love. And that’s when you’ll leave me.’

‘Never.’

‘That’s the way it works, Harry. I saw it all with my parents.’

‘You love me, but you’re not in love with me? What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Love is what’s left when being in love has gone, okay? It’s when you care about someone and you hope they’re happy, but you’re not under any illusions about them. Maybe that kind of love is not exciting and passionate and all those things that fade with time. All those things that you’re so keen on. But in the end it’s the only kind of love that really matters.’

‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re going on about,’ I said.

‘And that’s exactly your problem,’ she told me.

‘Forget Japan. Come home. You’re still my wife, Gina.’

‘I’m seeing someone,’ she said, and I felt like a hypochondriac who has finally had his terminal disease confirmed.

I wasn’t surprised. I had spent so long being terrified that finally having my worst fears realised brought a kind of bleak relief.

I had been expecting it – dreading it – ever since she had walked out the door. In a way I was glad it had happened, because now I didn’t have to worry about when it was going to happen. And I wasn’t so stupid that I thought I had the right to be outraged. But I still hadn’t worked out what to do with our wedding photographs. What are you meant to do with the wedding photographs after you split up?

‘Funny old expression, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘Seeing someone, I mean. It sounds like you’re checking them out. Observing them. Just looking. But that’s exactly what you’re not doing. Just looking, I mean. When you’re seeing someone, well, it’s gone way beyond the just looking stage. How serious is it?’

‘I don’t know. How do you tell? He’s married.’

‘Fuck me.’

‘But it’s not – apparently it hasn’t been good for ages. They’re semi-separated.’

‘Is that what he told you? Semi-separated? And you believed him, did you? Semi-separated. That’s a suitably vague way of putting it. I haven’t heard that one before. Semi-separated. That’s very good. That just about covers any eventuality. That should allow him to string both of you along nicely. He can keep the little wife at home making sushi while he sneaks off with you to the nearest love hotel.’

‘Oh, Harry. The least you could do is wish me well.’

‘Who is he? Some Japanese salary man who gets his kicks by sleeping with western women? You can’t trust the Japanese, Gina. You think you’re the big expert, but you don’t know them at all. They don’t have the same value system as you and me. The Japanese are a cunning, double-dealing race.’

‘He’s American.’

‘Well, why didn’t you say? That’s even worse.’

‘You wouldn’t like anyone I got involved with, would you, Harry? He could be an Eskimo and you would say – “Ooh, Eskimos, Gina. Cold hands, cold heart. Steer well clear of Eskimos, Gina.”’

‘I just don’t understand why you’ve got this thing about foreigners.’

‘Perhaps because I tried loving someone from my own country. And he broke my heart.’

It took me a moment to realise that she was talking about me.

‘Does he know you’ve got a kid?’

‘Of course he knows. Do you think I would hide that from anyone?’

‘And how does he feel about it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is he interested in Pat? Is he worried about the boy? Does he care about his wellbeing? Or does he just want to fuck his mother?’

‘If you’re going to talk like that, Harry, I’m going to hang up.’

‘How else am I meant to put it?’

‘We haven’t talked about the future. We haven’t got that far.’

‘Let me know when you get that far.’