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again.
    “Hey, love,” he said in a gentle voice. “I know how you feel about him. But it’s never going to happen. He’s never going to leave Amy. Can’t you see that? He’s a wanker, and he’s using you.”
    “How dare you say that,” Laura said, her voice rising. “How dare you! That’s bullshit. He’s not like that, it’s not like that. It’s just…complicated. He can’t just dump her, I don’t want him to do that. We have to wait before we can be together…we…oh.”
    She slumped down into a chair, tears in her eyes. “It sounds so fucking clichéd,” she whispered. “I’m so stupid.”
    “You’re really not, darling,” Yorky said, patting her hand across the table. “You’re just mad about him, and what’s wrong with that? Eh? You’ve got to…you’ve got to sort it out, that’s all. You know what you’re like.”
    Laura stood up again and went over to make the tea. “I have to, I know,” she said. “It’s just…it’s just—I can’t think of anyone I’m ever going to like more than I like him.” Hot tears ran down her cheeks and she rubbed her eyes, feeling like a little girl on the playground at school.
    It was true, that was the awful thing. She knew all this; she thought she was a sensible girl. But some kind of love had taken hold of her and refused to let her go, and it wasn’t a happy, easy, joyful thing; it had her in a viselike grip.
    She looked up at Yorky and smiled, trying to be brave. His face contorted with sympathy, and he walked over and gave her a big hug. “Do something about it, darling,” he said, his voice muffled against Laura’s shoulder. “Give him an ultimatum. Or give yourself an ultimatum. Get pregnant. No”—he stood back and shook her—“forget I said that. Really, don’t get pregnant.”
    “I won’t,” Laura said, touched, for Yorky really did look alarmed. “Don’t be stupid.” She picked up the mugs. “I’ll do something about it, honestly.”
    “Deadline. You need a deadline,” Yorky said, sitting back down and picking up the newspaper that was lying on the table. “Ooh, travel. Book a holiday.” He threw the travel section at her. It flapped through the air and Laura caught it, scrunching it in her hand and wedging it under her arm. “Book a holiday to somewhere fantastic, and then you have to go,” Yorky said. “You know, in a few months’ time, when everything’s sorted out. God, I’m brilliant. As you were, young woman. Go off and shag that worthless young man in there. I’ll make your excuses to Jo, but she’s not going to be happy. You know she’s not—you blew her off last week.”
    It was true. Laura had arranged to go to the cinema with Jo, but something else had come up—a Dan-shaped something else.
    “It’s her birthday in a couple of weeks. I’ll make it up to her then,” Laura said gratefully.
    “Honestly. The things I do,” Yorky said.
    “Thanks, Yorky.” Laura paused, as if she might say something else, gazing at the back of his head as Yorky picked up his tea and turned a page of the newspaper. “Thanks a lot. I…well.”
    A watery ray of pale sunshine was shining weakly through the window. Laura turned and left, with the fresh pot of tea, her head bowed in thought.
    “I’ve canceled lunch,” she said as she came back into her room.
    Dan sat up in bed and spread his arms wide. “Great, great news, my gorgeous darling girl,” he said. His hands slid inside her ratty old dressing gown and slipped open the tie, and he pulled her toward him. Laura laughed.
    “Let me put the pot down,” she said as he started kissing her. She crouched to put the paper and the teapot on the floor, then stood up again and said, as Dan flung the duvet to one side, “So, what do you want to do today?”
    “You,” Dan said, jumping on her with the kind of alacrity usually shown by sailors on shore leave. “God, I could be with you all day, you are so fucking gorgeous. Mmm.”
    “No,” Laura said,