Everything and Nothing Read Online Free Page B

home when they both knew she never would. Full-time motherhood hadn’t suited her, but still she would flirt with the idea. He couldn’t understand why Ruth was so prepared to waste both of their precious time on arguments that had no answers or endings. She could worry about anything and nothing with equal importance, so that sometimes his head spun and he felt as though he was on a rollercoaster.
    But Ruth seemed happy when he’d left and Aggie had already been in the kitchen fixing breakfast for Betty and ignoring the fact that Hal wouldn’t eat, something which he’d always silently believed to be the best policy. But Ruth would insist on fussing round him so much at every meal. He wondered how she had the energy and optimism to start every day thinking Hal would eat, to go to the trouble of putting food in front of him at every meal, to dance around him with the spoon, begging and pleading. If Christian had a say he’d have stopped offering Hal anything and then given him a few biscuits after a couple of weeks. It was odd how Ruth never considered that the GP might be right. But he never said anything because decisions like this were always Ruth’s remit. He was scared to get involved in the important stuff, not just because of the argument he could so easily cause, but also because he’d be setting a precedent and more would be expected of him in the future.
    Carol, his production manager, reminded him they had the interviews for the new admin assistant when he got in, which sounded boring, but nothing too serious.
    ‘I’ve narrowed it down to three,’ she was saying. ‘Do you want to see their CVs before we go in?’
    But he was already reading his emails. ‘No, thanks. Anything I should know? Any of them only got one leg?’
    She laughed. ‘No, nothing like that. They all seem great.’
    He had a meeting with the Chairman at ten who wanted to know how the contract with Sky was going, which took up two minutes, and then they spent half an hour laughing about the new reality show from the weekend. By the time he got out Carol was annoyed with him because their first interviewee had been sitting in reception for ten minutes and he’d obviously forgotten. Right, right, Christian had said as he’d grabbed a cup of coffee on his way in.
    They sat at a Formica desk in a room which someone had designed to look jaunty by adding a couple of round windows framed in acid colours. Touches like this depressed him as he hated anyone pretending that work was fun. It wasn’t like he had a bad time, but he wouldn’t choose to be there. Which wasn’t what Ruth thought. Ruth constantly told him that he’d rather be at work than at home, that he was better friends with his colleagues than his actual friends, that he probably worked on programmes he didn’t have to only because he enjoyed it. Christian found the last accusation hard to fathom. Firstly, it wasn’t true and he wouldn’t do it, but secondly what would be so wrong about him enjoying something? Ruth seemed to live with a constant yoke of resentment around her neck and couldn’t bear it if he had more fun than her. Sometimes he considered compiling a fun chart like the children’s star charts and they could tick off the minutes they’d each enjoyed during the day and at the end of the week the loser would get an afternoon to themselves. The flaw in this plan was that they would both have to be honest and both have to have the same perception of fun. Ruth, for example, claimed that going out for lunch with Sally was all right, but because she was always on her guard it wasn’t exactly fun. Jesus, he wanted to say, take what you can.
    The door opened and Sarah walked in. They were both thrown so immediately and physically off guard that Christian couldn’t pretend to Carol that he didn’t know her. He also couldn’t help but wonder if Sarah might have engineered the situation.
    ‘Do you know each other?’ asked Carol.
    Christian stood up. ‘Sorry, I