Their Very Special Marriage by Kate Hardy Page B

It’s perfectly normal for married couples to make love.’
    â€˜Even so, it doesn’t feel right.’
    Almost as if she guessed at the source of his embarrassment, she said softly, ‘We can be quiet.’
    He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. It just doesn’t feel right.’
    She extracted her hand from his grip. ‘Whatever.’ Shesighed. ‘Oliver, I can’t remember the last time we made love.’
    The accusation in her voice annoyed him. ‘And that’s my fault, is it? When you always go to bed early?’
    She scowled. ‘Says the man who spends most of his time in his study.’
    â€˜I’m the senior partner. You know I have to put the hours in to do the admin.’
    â€˜Maybe you should consider reorganising,’ she said in a cross whisper.
    Oh, no. Not this again. ‘Dad’s always run the surgery that way.’
    â€˜But you aren’t your father. And, as you just said, you’re the senior partner now. So surely it’s up to you?’
    â€˜No, it’s not. I can’t just throw everything away that he’s worked for.’
    â€˜I’m not asking you to throw it away! I’m just asking you to spend more time with us. The way you’re carrying on, you’re missing Rob and Sophie’s whole childhood—and you won’t get that time back.’
    â€˜You’re being unfair.’
    â€˜Am I?’ She shook her head. ‘The other day, you said I needed evening primrose oil. Maybe you need Viagra.’
    And with that she turned her back, making it clear that the conversation was over.
    Oliver lay there, fuming. How could she say something like that? He wasn’t impotent! He was just tired—tired from working too bloody hard to give his wife and kids a nice life, keep his parents happy and keep the whole village well. It wasn’t as if he was one of those men who came home from work, sat in front of the telly and didn’t move for the rest of the evening, or the sort who spent every night out at the gym and the pub with his blokey mates—he was working . And he wasn’t to blame for their non-existent sex life.He’d made enough overtures. Every time Rachel had refused them, saying she was too tired. It wasn’t his fault.
    Resentfully, he turned his back. But sleep was a long, long time coming.
    * * *
    â€˜Toast?’ Rachel asked as Oliver came downstairs.
    â€˜Sorry, no time for breakfast this morning.’ He grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl.
    She frowned. ‘What’s the rush? I thought surgery didn’t start until half past eight.’
    â€˜It doesn’t. I’ve got a meeting with a drug rep.’
    â€˜Right.’
    â€˜Don’t bother waiting dinner for me tonight. I’ll go straight from the surgery to my course. I’ll get myself a pizza or something on the way home.’
    â€˜As you wish.’
    Hell and double hell. She’d gone frosty on him again. But what was he supposed to do—give up his course? Make someone else see the drug reps? Oliver kissed the children goodbye and left the kitchen before he said something to Rachel he’d regret.
    â€˜Why’s Daddy angry?’ Robin asked.
    â€˜He’s not angry,’ Rachel said. Though she was. She was absolutely furious with Oliver. Her mother had come to help and he’d taken full advantage, meaning that he was spending even more time at work, instead of grabbing the chance to spend time with her. She forced herself to smile at her son. ‘Eat your breakfast. Nanny Ann’s going to take you to school today, Rob.’ She busied herself making Robin’s packed lunch and checking he had everything in his school-bag.
    When Ann returned from taking Robin to school, she distracted Sophie with some play-dough and sat Rachel down. ‘Will it help to talk about it, love?’
    Rachel froze. Surely Fi hadn’t told their mother about