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be deficient in something, missing an essential vitamin, a vitamin that other people had plenty of. Vitamin D perhaps? He never used to feel this tired when he worked outside all day.
    “I think Turkey would be fabulous,” Sadie said, joining him on the bed. “And we could invite Kristin and Carol. What do you think?”
    “Why would we invite them?”
    “They’re our friends.”
    “I’m sure they’d rather go away on their own. Carol’s under huge pressure at work. She’s—”
    Sadie was belly dancing in front of him. “She’s what, darling?”
    “She’s under a lot of pressure,” he said, standing up.
    Still dancing, she edged closer until her breasts were against his chest. “You like her, don’t you?” she said, kissing his neck.
    “You know I’ve always liked her.”
    “Yes, but I think you like her.”
    “I’ve never liked her in that way.”
    “Oh come on, Ralphy, I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
    Then she was pulling him down onto the bed, his towel was on the floor, she was running her fingers through his wet hair, he was untying her bikini.
     
    Afterwards, Sadie sat up against the pillows and grabbed her iPhone from the bedside table.
    “What are you doing?” Ralph said.
    “Just checking my messages.”
    “Since when does checking them involve typing?”
    “I’m tweeting.”
    “Let me see.”
    “Why?”
    “I want to know what you’re writing.”
    Sadie Swoon @SadieLPeterson
Turkey here I come!
    “Why?”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s none of your business.”
    “What you share with the world is none of my business?”
    “Don’t be silly, Ralph.”
    “I’m not being silly.”
    “It’s only a quick tweet, you can read it later.”
    He tried to snatch the phone from her hand. “Give me that fucking thing.”
    “Get off me, will you? You’re hurting my arm.”
    A tangle of damp limbs, writhing on the bed.
    He pounced, pinning her down, reaching for the phone as it fell to the ground.
    She wriggled free, hung off the bed, landed on the floor, crawled along the carpet.
    He jumped to his feet as she clambered up, holding her phone, lifting it above her head, defiant. Then they were off again, lunging and wrestling.
    “You’ve lost it,” she said, holding the phone behind her back. “You’ve really fucking lost it.”
    “Give me that bloody phone.”
    “I’d rather die than give you this phone.”
    “Oh really?”
    “You’re an arsehole.”
    “I’m what?”
    “I said you’re an arsehole.”
    “Well you’re a fucking joke, Sadie.”
    He grabbed her left wrist, reached around her for the phone, pushed himself against her. They landed against the wall, herright arm still behind her back. She screamed until he let go and stumbled backwards.
    “You bastard,” she said, covering her eye with her hand.
    “I didn’t hit you.”
    “You bloody well did.”
    His shoulder had slammed into her face, just below her right eye. He tried to touch her, to see what he had done.
    “Get off me.”
    “Sadie, it was an accident.”
    “An accident? You attacked me to get my phone.”
    “For God’s sake, I didn’t attack you.”
    “You tried to mug me.”
    “You’re being hysterical. Let me see.”
    “Just back off. I should call the police. I should tell them you raped me. How does that sound, darling? How’s that for a joke? Happy fucking birthday.”
    His body recoiled. Internal damage. Invisible.
    “Mum?” It was Arthur’s voice.
    Sadie grabbed her dressing gown. Ralph snatched his towel off the bed and wrapped it around his waist. Arthur stared. He was wearing shorts and a pale-blue T-shirt with Keep Calm and Carry On across the front. Ralph hated that T-shirt. He hated the tea towels, mugs, posters, aprons, cufflinks and bags. What did people derive from the mass reproduction of government posters, designed to boost morale during the Second World War if Britain was invaded? How could that notion be uplifting? He didn’t get it. He had seen a baby in a pram