He accepts the drink, and listens, and really wants to go to sleep. All of this...he just can't.


'I can't marry a woman, any woman, after ten days, Alex. It's just not right. You might have wanted this for two years - and I know I did - but you never told me. I can't go from zero to a thousand miles an hour in the space of a week.'

Can't, and wouldn't, even if all the other shit hadn't happened.

'You're saying 'what are the reasons we shouldn't do this' without me even saying that's what I want, yet. Christ, last week I'd been married before, for twenty-odd years. Now I know I never was. Give me a bloody chance, would you?'

He doesn't sound annoyed, though he's starting to feel it. Just tired. Resigned to the fact that there's never any peace, anywhere.