“For so long?” he said. “You can’t have, you-”

And, “I did, I did,” she said, “so much I could hardly bear it; every time I saw you I wanted it and-”

“You too,” he said, and suddenly it came, his wonderful giggle. “That is just so… so stupid…”

“What do you mean, me too-you’re not saying you wanted it too?” she said.

And, “Yes,” he said, “of course I did, you silly cow…”

“Don’t call me a silly cow.”

“Why not? It’s a compliment; you know how much I love my girls.”

“Oh, all right. Go on.”

“Abi, it was driving me insane; I wanted you so much, and I thought you didn’t want me, that you just saw me as a… a… well, I didn’t know how you saw me. Some kind of loser, I suppose…”

“Loser! William, you can’t have thought that…”

“Well, I did, of course I did, and then today…”

“Oh, God,” she said, “oh, William, I’m so, so sorry about today. I really am…”

“Don’t keep saying that,” he said, “please. Let today go. Please. It upsets me, even now; I don’t want to…”

“All right. But I have something to tell you… something rather awful, in a way. I don’t know what to do about it, but I have to tell you, just so-”

“Jesus,” he said, and his expression had changed-was wary suddenly, almost scared. “Jesus, Abi, there’s someone else; is that what you…”

“Someone else! William, how can you even think such a thing? There’s never going to be someone else, not now, not ever. I love you, William. That’s what I have to tell you. I… well, I love you.”

“You what?” he said, and his tone was so odd, filled with disbelief, and his face too, with something close to shock, and she felt quite scared herself, but she had to go on, had to know he knew, just so they could go forward, in whatever direction that might be.

“I said I love you, and I don’t care what you think; I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it. I love you, William. So, so much, I can’t begin to tell you. But if you don’t want me-and I wouldn’t blame you-I swear I’ll never come near you again; I absolutely swear it…”

“You’d better bloody not,” he said, and her heart literally sank; she felt it, heavy and sad and infinitely disappointed.

“I won’t,” she said. “I-”

“No,” he said, “I mean you’d better bloody not swear it. Do you think I want to lose you, you stupid, stupid girl? Do you think I don’t want you…?”

“Well… I-”

“Abi. Say it again. Keep saying it. I can’t hear it enough.”

“All right,” she said. “OK, I love you, William. I really love you. I’ve never said that before, except to my dad-oh, and maybe to that boy I told you about, the one who-”

“Do shut up,” he said. “I don’t want to hear about any boys.”

“No, sorry, I’m just trying to be truthful. Completely truthful. I love you, William. I always have, from that first day, I think, only I-”

“You can’t do,” he said, staring at her.

“But I do. If you mean because of how I’ve behaved, well, I’m pretty bloody stupid. As you know. But ignoring that, I do love you. I love everything about you. I love the way you look, and the way you talk, and the way you giggle, and I love having sex with you so, so much; it’s just… just… Oh, don’t laugh, William; don’t laugh at me; it’s not funny; it’s pathetic, really, sitting here without any clothes on, telling you all this when you made it pretty clear about half an hour ago that you thoroughly disliked me-”

“Of course I don’t dislike you,” he said, his tone impatient. “I love you too, Abi. I really, really do love you. I can’t imagine life without you now; that was why I was so miserable and… and hostile to you. I… Oh, hell. Look, do you think we could move? I’m getting a cramp in one of my legs.”

“You… love me?”

“Yes, I love you too. I just said so, didn’t I? I’m a simple sort of chap, you know; I don’t go in for anything very complex.”

Abi stood up. She felt very odd. Odd and physically feeble.

“OK. Sorry about the cramp. Shall we… shall we move over to the couch? And maybe we could… could… Why are you laughing, William? I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“You are,” he said. “If you could see yourself you’d see it.”

“Well, thanks.”

“No, really. Stark naked from the waist down, except for a pair of boots. One covered in cow shit. Quite appropriate, really.”

She looked down at herself and grinned. “No wonder I was getting cold.”

“You look cold. Here…” He went and pulled a large green sheet off a hook on the door. “Let’s put this over us.”

“What is it? It looks sort of waterproof.”

“It is. We use it for… Well, never mind. It might put you off.”

“It stinks,” she said.

“Yes, well, so do I quite a lot of the time. I’m not always freshly washed and brushed up, you know. You’re going to have to get used to smells. If you’re going to be a farmer’s wife.”

“A what?”

“A farmer’s wife. Well, I’m not going to change careers. Even for you.”

“Did you say wife?”

“Yes, I did. It seems the best thing to me. Don’t you want that?”

“William, William, but I can’t cook.”

“You’ll learn.”

“And I feel sorry for rabbits.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“And foxes.”

“You’ll certainly have to get over that.”

“And I’m not posh.”

“Good.”

“Oh, William, I’d love to marry you. Love, love, love it.”

“Me too.” He looked at her and grinned suddenly. “Really love it. Now, if we could just… ah, I think… yes, someone’s coming through the shed. Um, ah, hallo, Mother.”

Mrs. Grainger, clad in Barbour and headscarf and heavy green wellies, looked at Abi-at her naked lower half, her tousled hair, her smudged eye makeup, her high-heeled, shitty boots.

“Yes, hallo, William,” she said.

“Mother, I have some really exciting news. Abi has agreed to marry me.”

This is what happiness looks and sounds like, Mary thought, smiling at Russell: a warm room, thick curtains closed against the cold night, a big jug of winter jasmine on the mantelpiece, a log fire, a concert (Haydn) on the wireless-now, Mary, not wireless, but Russell’s state-of-the-art sound system; not that it mattered, the music was lovely anyway-new silks for a new tapestry spread out on her sewing table, Russell contentedly sipping at his bourbon and leafing through travel brochures, planning a trip to Italy for them in the spring. And by the hearth, slumbering sweetly, curled up with one another, the latest additions to their household: two Persian blue kittens.

How lucky she was, how lucky they both were, to have found so much so late, and not to have been disappointed by it in any respect.

“You obviously did so well today, Sparrow. I wish I’d come now, I’d have been so proud of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, there was nothing to be proud of…”

“Oh now, you say that, but Georgia told me how you recited that nursery rhyme to the judge-”

“The coroner.”

“Pardon me, the coroner.”

“And what on earth was Georgia telling you that for?”

“She said you’d told her I was tired, and she was worried about me. Really, Sparrow, people will think I’m an invalid or an old man if you keep talking like that.”

“How could anyone think you were an old man,” said Mary, walking over to him and kissing the top of his head, “when you look so extremely youthful and handsome? Anyway, I didn’t recite it exactly…”

“She said you did.”

“Well, maybe I did. Anyway, it caught his fancy and he quoted it in his summing up at the end. Which was very nice. And I said how anxious I had been about holding up the young man-the bridegroom, you know-and the coroner said-such a courteous, kind man-that I should have no concerns about it, that it would have made no difference. I still think perhaps it might, but… he was so very good at his job, Russell; everyone left looking happier, even the poor families of those who died.”