Randy Bill hasn’t come to completion, the lecturer said, but like him we’re done with Monica for now, although she may yet come back to haunt us.

And we laughed and laughed: at Monica, with relief, at the trope (a new word on me) of the dissatisfied husband, and moved on to Wordsworth.

At the end of the hour, everyone, myself included, gave a round of applause. It had been inconceivable to me that you could put a verbatim account of giving a blow job alongside the poems of Wordsworth, and read them with equal attention and care.

I still remembered it, after all these years. Dot, dot, dot. Dot, dot, dot, dot. What was said, and wasn’t, and why.

He was meant to be very charismatic, my mum had said.

That’s one word for it (my friend).

The beginning of the Starr Report, which I found now on my phone: When she introduced herself to him, he said he already knew who she was.

At least we –

I began to text my friend, my phone jumping to anticipate each word. It was 2 a.m., but her baby was teething 60too, and even at this time of night, or morning, the little ticks often went instantly blue to show she’d read it.

At least we––

Then I stopped. I held my phone in my hand for a while, and concentrated on breathing, until I could feel my lungs release and fill, then deleted the characters, one by one.

61

Jars of Clay

They split up at check-in to give them all the chance of witnessing to their travelling companions. You never know, says Pastor Rick: it seems this going home to vote is really a thing, and you might just change someone’s mind.

Her seat is by the window and the aisle seat is taken by a middle-aged woman with purple hair and thick-framed glasses. The seat between them is empty, which makes the woman her only chance. She waits until the plane is safely in the air (suppose I had wings, like the dawning day, and flew across the ocean; even then Your powerful arm would guide and protect me) before taking a breath and turning to the woman.

Hi there, she says. She can see the side of Steve’s head through the gap in the seats in front and wonders if he can hear her. She clears her throat.

I was just wondering if you might have a minute to talk about your views on the right to life of the pre-born child.

The woman looks at her. Are you asking for yourself? she says. 62

It takes a moment for it to sink in that the woman means her.

Oh my goodness, no! she says, and is glad Steve isn’t listening after all. I’m part of a Youth Ministry, she says rapidly, and we’re travelling to Ireland to help convince people to make the right choice next week.