‘The change of roles is permanent,’ I said. ‘The Prince requires a job and you need to escape the repeating pattern of Atlantic cruises.’ I detected resistance. ‘It also compensates for the error you made, which temporarily destroyed his life.’

George sat down again and poured himself a glass of red wine.

‘And since he is a superior drummer, the cruise ship patrons will receive better entertainment.’

32

‘Rosie. I need to discuss something with you.’

I was visiting the apartment to check the beer. The system was functioning well; prior to leaving I had checked it only once per week. But the weather was unusually warm for December, and it seemed reasonable to visit more frequently. I had also taken the opportunity to draw the Week 32 diagram of Bud on the tiles. His or her development remained interesting, despite the reduced connection to my own life. Having gone this far, it seemed reasonable to complete the forty weeks.

‘I closed the door for a reason, Don. It doesn’t make it easy for me, you coming in twice a day.’

Gene had indicated that Rosie was not currently receptive to a surprise dinner—or even a scheduled dinner—or to relationship discussions.

‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to give it time,’ he said.

But I was not discussing the relationship.

‘This is a research question. Since you’re considering returning to psychology, you’ll find it interesting.’

‘I’ll reserve judgement.’

I explained the Lesbian Mothers Project. Any justification for refraining from mentioning it was no longer relevant. It was time to begin disclosing the information I had withheld. This was the first, and least risky, step. My participation in the project was not illegal, unethical or weird.

‘This is the project you started to tell me about, right,’ said Rosie. ‘You never mentioned it again.’

‘I didn’t want to invade your territory.’

‘You mean you didn’t want to tell me you were invading my territory.’

‘Correct. The problem is that they don’t want to publish the results.’

‘Why do you think that is?’ asked Rosie.

‘If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t have woken you up to ask.’

‘What do you think of people who take scientific findings out of context to push their own barrows?’

‘You’re referring to Gene?’ I said.

‘Him too. These women are trying to make a point that two women can bring up a child as well as a heterosexual couple.’ She sat up in bed. ‘They don’t want to publish something that suggests otherwise.’

‘Surely that’s pushing their own barrow.’

‘Not to the extent of some dinosaur who’s going to pick it up and say kids who don’t have a father are deprived. Which is an issue that’s a little close to my heart right now. So don’t expect me to be rational about it.’

‘But the results don’t indicate any requirement for a father,’ I said. ‘Both carers can raise the baby’s oxytocin. It’s just that an unconventional parent uses an unconventional method. I predict zero problem for the child.’

‘Don’t expect the Wall Street Journal to see it that way.’

I had turned to leave when Rosie spoke again.

‘And Don. I’ve got a flight home tomorrow. Judy’s taking me to JFK. I got the cheapest fare. It’s non-refundable.’

I was leaving to check the beer again before dinner when Sonia stopped me.

‘Wait an hour and I’ll come with you.’

‘Why?’

‘We’re going to see Lydia.’

‘She indicated she was unavailable for further consultation. And it’s a Sunday. A Sunday evening.’

‘I know. I called her. I told her that you and Rosie—you and I—had split up as a result of what she said to you. She was a bit blown away: she thought she’d reassured you to stay with me—with Rosie.’

‘She merely provided objective advice.’

‘Well, she’s feeling responsible now. She overstepped the line and she knows it. We’re meeting at your apartment. I couldn’t do it here because of Dave. I’ve told him I’m taking you to see Rosie before she flies home. I haven’t mentioned Lydia. Obviously.’

‘What about Rosie?’

‘Gene’s taking her out.’

‘Gene’s involved in this?’

‘Everyone’s involved, Don. We think you’re both making a mistake, and if you won’t listen to anyone except Lydia, then she can tell you. I’m going to channel Rosie—I’ll be Rosie—and Lydia is going to tell us to stay together. And when she does, you’re going to solve the Marriage Disaster Problem. Am I speaking your language?’

Sonia and I arrived at the apartment two minutes before Lydia was due. I realised Sonia had never visited; it had not occurred to me to invite her and Dave to dinner. It was probably a social error.

‘My God, what’s that smell?’ she said. ‘I think I’m going to throw up. I’ve been feeling terrible all day.’

‘Beer. There’s a small leak that’s impossible to access. Dave blames the workman who replaced the ceiling.’

Sonia smiled. ‘That’s so Dave. How does Rosie cope with it?’

‘Humans adapt to smells quite quickly,’ I said. ‘It’s only recently that regular washing has been conventional. Prior to that humans did not wash for months, and there was no problem. Except disease, obviously.’