He knew she was going to ask that, and he wishes she hadn't. Because it's not an easy answer, and, he imagines, not likely to win him any favours either.

He's still looking at the floor.

'Dunno.'

It's true. He doesn't really think about these things to any great degree. Gene acts; he doesn't procrastinate or navel-gaze.


'I like bein' with you when I'm here. We have fun, or we used to. I want you t'be alright. I want us t'have a laugh. I want t'go to Texas, an' I thought you wanted t'come back to Manchester.'

It would be easier to just say I want you, but he's married. And it probably wouldn't be the whole truth anyway.

'An' yes, I want t'give you a right good seein' to. You're not wrong about that.'

He meets her eyes, unapologetic.

'But it doesn' make me a bad bloke, and it's not the only thing I want you for.'