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aisle.’
    Bob looked nonplussed for a moment. ‘Oh God, yes. This funeral. You poor thing.’ He poured out the rest of the beer from his bottle and ordered another. As he did, his jacket fell
open. Jess noticed that his belly was straining a little under the elegant cut of his shirt. He was gaining weight, and she was losing it. They were both struggling, she realized, with the
separation and all it entailed. Both missing, if not each other, the security that had characterized their lives over the past two decades.
    ‘Well, I suppose I should get this over.’ He paused. ‘The thing is, I’ve been seeing this woman.’
    There was a silence. Of course Bob is seeing other women, Jess thought. We’re separated. It was me who asked him to leave. Why wouldn’t he be playing the field? He’s an
attractive man. But she still felt a stab of jealousy. And humiliation, because her tenderness towards him had been misdirected. He wasn’t struggling with the separation at all. He’d
gained weight because he was happy, contented. She’d been wrong about that.
    ‘This woman?’ She tried to keep her tone level, but there was a note of sarcasm in her voice.
    ‘She’s called Tegan. Tegan Davies. She’s a newsreader on BBC Wales. You’ve probably seen her.’
    ‘Maybe. What does she look like?’ The question slipped out before Jess had a chance to stop herself.
    ‘Well.’ Bob looked uncomfortable. ‘Blonde. Slim.’
    ‘Attractive? Twenty-three?’
    It was meant as a joke, referring back to their younger days when they were so politically correct, and they’d laughed over newspaper reports that began, ‘Miss Jane Smith, blonde,
attractive, twenty-three’. This time, though, it didn’t come out as a joke, and she wished she hadn’t said it.
    Bob looked embarrassed. ‘Well, she is a bit younger than me, actually.’
    Jess said nothing, but continued to eat her rollmop. The fishy taste had begun to make her feel a little sick. She was glad she hadn’t ordered anything heavier.
    ‘Anyway,’ he continued, swiftly moving on, ‘she’s asked me if she can meet the children. We’ve been seeing each other mostly at weekends . . .’
    Jess put down her fork. She had a sudden vision of Bob’s bijou residence in the Bay, an unmade bed, this Tegan woman wandering around in his shirt, all long tanned legs . . . She brushed
it away.
    ‘. . . And we thought it would be nice if Rose could stay overnight with us sometime, so we could do things together. Take her out for a pizza, over to Techniquest, that sort of
thing.’
    ‘Rose is too old for Techniquest.’
    Techniquest was a sort of mini science museum in the Bay that the girls had loved when they were little. Bob didn’t seem to realize that they’d grown up.
    ‘Well, OK, maybe a boat trip.’
    Jess knew Rose would love that. But she didn’t say anything.
    Jess picked up her fork and began to eat again. Bob’s suggestion was not unreasonable, she knew. But it angered her. Why couldn’t he screw his girlfriend during the week, and keep
the weekends free for his daughter?
    ‘It depends, really, on how serious you think this relationship is,’ she said. ‘I don’t want Rose meeting every girlfriend you ever have.’
    ‘Of course not.’
    Did that mean that there were others?
    ‘But Tegan is different.’
    So there had been others.
    ‘She really wants to be part of my life. And that includes my children.’
    ‘And you? What do you really want?’
    Bob stopped eating.
    ‘You know my position, Jess. I never wanted us to separate.’ He paused. Jess could see he was upset. ‘I’m sorry I let you down, I really am. I’ve done everything I
can to make amends. But since you won’t – can’t – forgive me, I’ve had to move on.’ The waitress came over with a bottle of beer. He took it from her and poured
it out, offering Jess more, too. Although she’d previously declined, she nodded assent.
    ‘I can’t guarantee that Tegan and I will stay