1. A Proposal (1 a.m., January, 2000)
HER. You want to what?
HIM. I never repeat myself on these matters.
HER. But I didn’t think you were in to it – as a thing.
HIM. So I suddenly changed my mind.
HER. But what made you change your mind?
HIM. What, is this some sort of test I have to undergo before I get an answer?
HER. If I am to respond I need to know what I am responding to – but in case you’re worried while you wait that out, what you just said made me very happy.
HIM. I could sort of see it. In your vital signs. You felt the synapse, you felt the current jump? Szzz.
HER. ‘Szzz’?
HIM. Yes. ‘Szzz.’
HER. I think I did, I think I did. But did you know you were going to say this, like, now?
HIM. No idea, no idea, no premeditation.
HER. So what was it – the night, the river, my eyes, the meal – it must have been something –
HIM. Everything, every fucking thing right down to the beginning of evolved time –
HER. Everything right back to the beginning of evolved time led to that little electrical charge that prompted you to open your mouth and ask me this presumptuous sexy thing –
HIM. Everything – my physiology, my education, my nature, my nurture, the music we’re dancing to, the little bit of peristalsis in my lower gut, the clothes you are wearing –
HER. And a new century is beginning, and the computers didn’t all fall silent, and you are a beaky guy with a mushy heart–
HIM. So what the bloody hell is the answer?
HER. Oh. Can I not think about it?
HIM. No! Why? No.
HER. Because I should sleep on it, shouldn’t I? Because this is the rest of our lives we are talking about – but okay my instincts, my instincts –
HIM. Listen to your instincts. Take dictation from your instincts.
HER. You’re asking me to be somebody I didn’t know I was going to be until you suddenly realised you wanted me to be that person. And that’s very nice, that’s very exciting and I suddenly feel I can see years, years, years ahead of me resting upon this second – on – now:
2. A Purchase (May, 2000)
HER. Near the station.
HIM. Near the river.
HER. No chain.
HIM. One elderly owner.
HER. Who’s desperate.
HIM. Who you charmed into submission.
HER. And the carpet smells of sick and cats. And the windows have never seen a window cleaner.
HIM. Never been opened.
HER. The neighbours are Sri Lankan.
HIM. Multi-culti.
HER. There’s a deli and a 7-Eleven and a tyre shop.
HIM. There’s a crêperie which never opens and a panoramic view of Toys R Us.
HER. And were we ever to…
HIM. We will.
HER. But were we ever to – be careful –
HIM. We will, we will – God rewards the virtuous or at least the NHS does; I have given up coffee, I have renounced tea, I have started jogging, I have given up smoking, my semen is in training, my semen is world class.
HER. It may not be your semen that’s the issue.
HIM. So what are we waiting for?
HER. Won’t it feel strange – going back to Cambridge? Won’t it feel like beating a retreat?
HIM. It’ll feel like the smartest, sanest thing we could ever do. It’ll feel like growing up. It’ll feel like the best place for a child –
HER. Sssh – you’ll hex it.
HIM. This semen, in here, will spawn a global dynastic elite. This scrotum is basically the Davos of semen.
HER. That means precisely nothing.
HIM. This scrotum contains the Mensa, the Forbes list of semen; fertility doctors are headhunting, spunk-hunting me, so pristine, so potent is this semen inside this scrotum. So – shall I call her?
3. A Birth (11th September, 2...