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d saw that helen was not moving up on the bench to make room for her。 mary pushed her way in； and her determination was such that one by one the women left and went off with their prams and pushchairs。
now mary told helen the whole story； and she knew she sounded like a madwoman。 helen was pushing the pram back and forth。 she pushed it one way； jiggled it up and down； pulled it back toward her； jiggled it in a long thoughtful pause； and pushed it forward again； and to mary it seemed that the pram had bee part of the listening and judging。
“you’ve kept it up for three weeks？” helen said at last； with a carefulness that told mary she was controlling an extreme reaction。 her face was severe。 she might never have been mary’s best friend。 “three weeks；” stated helen。 “no wonder he’s sick。”
“is he sick？”
“can’t you see for yourself？” said this new helen； with her cold bleak face； not beautiful at all。 they were sitting on an ugly wooden bench outside a pub that needed painting； and wasn’t all that attractive； although there were little bay trees on either side of the door。 the trees needed watering and they were dusty。
“tom said that demetrios was too drunk to work yesterday。 he’ll lose his job if he’s not careful。”
the words “but you gave me the idea” could not get themselves off mary’s tongue。 she was asking herself—and she was in the grip of the panic that seemed to be her permanent condition—why did i take what she said the way i did？
“you’d better try and make it up to him；” pronounced helen； and she got up from the bench and went off with her baby； not even smiling at mary or saying； “see you tomorrow。”
i’ve lost helen； too； thought mary。 she went to sit outside the restaurant where dmitri worked。 he had an hour’s break in the afternoon。 when he came out she ran to him and put her hand on his arm and said； “dmitri； i’m sorry； i’m sorry； dmitri。” she was crying and he was turning away from her and saying； “so you’re sorry； and that’s all you have to say。 what was all that for？ i wanted a kid； that’s all。 you’re a bad woman； mary。” she could see he felt horror as he looked at her； quickly； for he was afraid that cold angry stare might appear again on her face。 he tried to pull his arm away； but she held tight and said； “please please please； please； dmitri。” he stood there half turned away； with nervous side glances at her； but avoiding her eyes； which afflicted him。 she thinks； he will hate me forever； but pleads； “please； dmitri； e home now。” the two stood close on the pavement； and people going past moved well out of their way； and she was clinging to him for dear life； for that was how it felt to her； because everything was at stake。 she was weeping loudly； and he was hot and red and miserable。
home was only a few minutes away。 he went stumbling beside her and she kept tight hold of him； for he might run off and she would never see him again。
at home she tried to pull him into the bedroom； but he sat at the table with his head in his hands。 “what are you thinking now？” he asked。 “we’ll have sex and then that’s the end of it？”
“i’ve stopped taking the pill； dmitri。”
“so you’ve stopped the pill。”
“e to bed； please； dmitri。”
“what a way to make a baby。”
she grabbed his hands to pull him up； and she was thinking； but when have i ever had to talk him into bed before？ he let himself be pulled； and stumbled with her into bed。 he was weeping； with rough ugly painful sobs。 she had broken him。 she was not feeling anything like her little thrill of victory or the pleasant fear of their sexual games。 inside herself she was babbling； “he’ll get over it； he’ll forget； and we’ll go back to how we were。” for now it seemed to her that how they had been was wonderful； and she could not understand why she had thrown it away。
meanwhile it certainly was not a question of making love； or even of sex； because she was holding in her hand a small limp shrinking piece of flesh； and nothing like this had ever happened before。
“don’t you do it again；” he was saying； in his new rough miserable voice。 “don’t you do it； i’m telling you。 if you do i’ll kill you。 i’ll just walk out and never e home； so don’t you do it。”
he lay down on the bed； but on his back； not turned away。 she insinuated herself inside his arm； lying as close as she could。 “oh； dmitri； i’m so sorry。” she was weeping but she felt better； because she had decided to hear what he had said as a kind of forgiveness。 she was telling herself； “we’ll forget all this in a day or two and everything will be as it was。” ？
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