Skerries, Co. Dublin, Ireland
As her husband moved deeper inside her, Rose wondered whether to cook carrots or sweet corn for tomorrow night’s dinner. Carrots were cheaper, of course, but sweet corn was more usual with tuna.
It wasn’t that he was a bad lover; it was just that she had already had her pleasure and her mind, being of the efficient sort, had turned to the next thing. She had already bought the tuna, onion, tomatoes and garlic; it was just the vegetable she needed to consider.
Her husband’s movements slowed. She panicked. Would he want to move positions? She didn’t think she had the energy for that. ‘You’re wonderful,’ she murmured. ‘ I adore you.’ His movements became more enthusiastic.
The problem was money: they barely had any. She had lost her job and was trying to keep it a secret. Jonathon did not take much notice of bank accounts. Rose did. She knew how much was in each and could give a startlingly accurate estimation of the amount of brown coins sitting in the change jar in the hall.
Jonathon slid off her onto his side; they sighed together and Rose switched off the lamp. It was immediate; the switch from dynamic-love-machine to comatose- wipe out. She kicked the duvet around and fluffed up the pillow. Her last thought, before she drifted off, was that she would choose the carrots over sweet corn.