Marianne went home for a couple of days this week, and when she came back to Dublin last night she seemed quiet. They watched
Hey, he said. Is something upsetting you?
She shook her head but didn’t turn around. He went to make her a cup of tea and by the time he brought it to her she had stopped crying. He touched her hair and she smiled, weakly. The character in the film had become pregnant unexpectedly, and Connell was trying to remember when Marianne had last had her period. The longer he thought about it, the longer ago it seemed to have been. Eventually, in a panic, he said: Hey, you’re not pregnant or anything, are you? Marianne laughed. That settled his nerves.
No, she said. I got my period this morning.
Okay. Well, that’s good.
What would you do if I was?
He smiled, he inhaled through his mouth. Kind of depends on what you would want to do, he said.
I admit I would have a slight temptation to keep it. But I wouldn’t do that to you, don’t worry.
Really? What would the temptation be? Sorry if that’s insensitive to say.
I don’t know, she said. In a way I like the idea of something so dramatic happening to me. I would like to upset people’s expectations. Do you think I’d be a bad mother?
No, you’d be great, obviously. You’re great at everything you do.
She smiled. You wouldn’t have to be involved, she said.
Well, I would support you, whatever you decided.
He didn’t know why he was saying he would support her, since he had virtually no spare income and no prospect of having any. It felt like the thing to say, that was all. Really he had never considered it. Marianne seemed like the kind of straightforward person who would arrange the whole procedure herself, and at most maybe he would go with her on the plane.
Imagine what they’d say in Carricklea, she said.
Oh, yeah. Lorraine would never forgive me.
Marianne looked up quickly and said: Why, she doesn’t like me?
No, she loves you. I mean she wouldn’t forgive me for doing that to you. She loves you, don’t worry. You know that. She thinks you’re much too good for me.
Marianne smiled again then, and touched his face with her hand. He liked that, so he moved towards her a little and stroked the pale underside of her wrist.
What about your family? he said. I guess they’d never forgive me either.
She shrugged, she dropped her hand back into her lap.
Do they know we’re seeing each other now? he said.
She shook her head. She looked away, she held her hand against her cheek.
Not that you have to tell them, he said. Maybe they’d disapprove of me anyway. They probably want you going out with a doctor or a lawyer or something, do they?
I don’t think they care very much what I do.
She covered her face using her flattened hands for a moment, and then she rubbed her nose briskly and sniffed. Connell knew she had a strained relationship with her family. He first came to realise this when they were still in school, and it didn’t strike him as unusual, because Marianne had strained relationships with everyone then. Her brother Alan was a few years older, and had what Lorraine called a ‘weak personality’. Honestly it was hard to imagine him standing his ground in a conflict with Marianne. But now they’re both grown up and still she almost never goes home, or she goes and then comes back like this, distracted and sullen, saying she had a fight with her family again, and not wanting to talk about it.
You had another falling-out with them, did you? Connell said.
She nodded. They don’t like me very much, she said.
I know it probably feels like they don’t, he said. But at the end of the day they’re your family, they love you.
Marianne said nothing. She didn’t nod or shake her head, she just sat there. Soon after that they went to bed. She was having cramps and she said it might hurt to have sex, so he just touched her until she came. Then she was in a good mood and making luxurious moaning noises and saying: God, that was so nice. He got out of bed and went to wash his hands in the en suite, a small pink-tiled room with a potted plant in the corner and little jars of face cream and perfume everywhere. Rinsing his hands under the tap, he asked Marianne if she was feeling better. And from bed she said: I feel wonderful, thank you. In the mirror he noticed he had a little blood on his lower lip. He must have brushed it with his hand by accident. He rubbed at it with the wet part of his knuckle, and from the other room Marianne said: Imagine how bitter I’m going to be when you meet someone else and fall in love. She often makes little jokes like this. He dried his hands and switched off the bathroom light.
