"Is he asleep?"

"Well he's in bed," Cal responded pulling his socks off and heaving them into the bathroom somewhere in the vicinity of the hamper.

"Can we talk then?"

Cal leapt on to the bed and climbed over her while she fended off his exploring hands. He shifted so he was on his side of the bed and finally was still. "You lost my place!" Gillian complained picking her book up and trying to find where she was up to.

"Oh sorry," Cal responded with light sincerity.

"You are not," Gillian retorted. She placed her bookmark and closed the pages. She leaned over to put the book on her bedside table and then turned over to lie on her side and face her husband. She watched him carefully. "You start."

"Oh right," Cal responded as if he wasn't sure what the rules were. "Let's see. She was certainly genuine."

"And you don't think that's right?"

"No, I mean that sincerely."

"Because you said it quite conversationally."

Cal cleared his throat. It felt like there was something stuck in it, or aggravating it. He hoped he wasn't getting a cold. Or maybe it was just her tone of voice that was suddenly pissing him off. "Sorry, let me be clear, she was genuine, as far as I could tell. About the fartha, her family and her choice to give up the baby."

Gillian seemed to visibly relax. "Anything else Doctor Lightman?"

"She seems very genuine with you. What she said about your profile." He was half curious to read it now. Did they include the letter's of reference?

"What about you? Did she seem comfortable?"

"She seemed nervous."

Gillian shifted her head to look him in the eye. "You reckon you're the deal breaker?"

Bang! Nail on the head. Cal was the deal breaker. He hated that he was in that position. And she wasn't just talking about with Kiera. He was the deal breaker for Gillian too.

"Not necessarily. She hasn't had a male role model in her life. I'm not sure she knows what to make of me. She talked about you the whole time, what she had read in your profile, what she felt about you."

Gillian studied him carefully. Cal thought he saw her eyes narrow slightly and that immediately put him on the defensive. What was she mad at him for? He hadn't said anything one way or the other yet! She nodded and then looked thoughtful. Cal let her have the silence for a moment and then asked: "Professional opinion?"

Gillian nodded again.

"I'd say she was relatively relaxed and thoughtful. But I didn't see signs of her bein' indecisive. She seemed pretty sure of what she wanted. She's clearly a smart young woman."

"Hmm," Gillian agreed softly.

Cal waited for her to say something else. He noted she wasn't looking him in the eye anymore and her shoulders were holding tension and he wondered how the hell he was getting this so wrong. What was going on in her head? Because he had no idea. He knew what she wanted, that much was obvious. Eight years of a relationship and he knew exactly what she wanted without her having to say but... it was these silences that were doing his head in. She wasn't talking to him about what was actually in her head. Did she hate him? Because he wasn't on board? Was that it? Or did she just have too much to eat at dinner and had indigestion? What?

"Personal opinion?" Cal volunteered in the end.

"Sure."

"Want me to suga coat it?"

"I've never asked you to lie to me," she answered tersely.

"Don't get your hopes up."

Gillian sighed and turned over to put the light out. Cal felt fear grip his heart. Shit. When she turned back she surprised him by shifting his arm so she could lie within his embrace. She must notice that his muscles were tense.

"I'm trying not to."

"And you're doin' a very good job of it sweetheart." Cal lied.

"Ok, all that stuff aside, what did you think?"

"Of her?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you askin' me to gossip Docta Lightman?" He tried to lighten his tone but it didn't really work out that way. He sounded accusing. He hated being this way. Particularly with her. Awkward.

"That's Mrs Lightman to you, or Doctor Foster."

Cal didn't take the bait. He didn't like her using Alec's name. But she argued her books were written under that name. She had laughed when Cal suggested he be the one to change his name; he said he'd write his next book and publish it under the name B.S Alot. But he hadn't pushed the issue of her name, because his name was his professional reputation too. And besides, if she put Doctor Lightman on papers and books, they would think it was him.

"I liked her. I felt sorry for her," he admitted in a tone of voice that sounded like he despised her for it. Everything was so out of order at the moment. He was out of synch with himself and his wife. All of it was screwy. He hated it. It made him feel sick. Physically nauseated. He was trying too hard. He tried harder. "But she seems nice enough. Genuine," he added, this time successfully making his voice sound light; no judgement here.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed softly. "Genuine."

"Word of the day."

Gillian gave a light chuckle. Cal noted it was forced. They were silent for a moment and then Gillian shifted and leaned on her elbow and looked him in the eye in the darkness. "Cal?"

"Yes luv?"

"Are you in?"

Cal watched her. She was being careful, he could see that. He was also trying desperately to read her despite the dimmed lighting and she was letting him. She probably didn't care because he couldn't see much. He was reading more off her tone of voice which was why he was more self conscious about his. Cal felt a wave of tension literally roll right down his body and he sat up so he was resting against the head of their bed. "I don't know what to say."

"Cal!" Gillian immediately complained. She sat up too so she was facing him. "You're resisting on purpose. Just give me an answer. You either want this or you don't."

What it felt like she was asking was 'you either love me or you don't' and Cal felt immediately worse. He wanted her to understand where he was coming from. That was the only way they were ever going to make it together.

"Well it's not that simple is it?" Cal tried.

"Yes it is," Gillian insisted.

"A month ago we were playin' happily families at the swimmin' pool and everythin' was great and now all of a sudden we're fightin' all the time and I can't sleep and you're just so..."

'Different,' he finished in his head.

"So what?" Gillian demanded. Cal could just imagine her eyes narrowing at him. He could feel the waves of anger rolling off of her.

"Different," he attempted.

"Different?" Gillian repeated, her voice tight with tension.

"You're different Gillian. You're not talkin' to me anymore..."

"We're talking now," she interrupted.

"No I'm talkin'. I'm tellin' you how I feel about this and you're just sittin' there demandin' answa's out of me that I can't give you yet. And once again, we're arguin'."

"You're stalling," she accused.

"Yes I'm bloody well stalllin! I'm stallin' because I'm havin' a really hard time gettin' this straight in my head."

'And I need to be able to talk to you about this because you're my best friend. I need you to comfort me and tell me that it's gonna be all right.'

"What is so confusing about this? You're either in, or you're out. It's very simple Cal."

And again it felt like she was asking him whether he loved her not. If you loved me, you'd do this. If you don't want to do this, then you clearly don't love me.

Cal knew, he just knew, if he answered now, he wouldn't be doing either of them any favours. They needed to talk about it properly and evenly, without all the emotion involved; if he could just make her see.

"I need an answer Cal."

"And I need more time."

Gillian gave a disgusted kind of sigh or huff. She moved and shifted and when she got off the bed Cal was alarmed enough to ask, "Where are you goin'?" She wasn't heading for the bathroom. She was heading for the bedroom door.

"I need space," she told him.

What Cal heard was: New York.