We’re getting married on 5th January. Will you be my bridesmaid, please? I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have.”“What on earth do you...think I am?” demanded Martha, “I will no way be a bridesmaid at this ghastly wedding. In fact I won’t even be there, and you can’t have it in my church.”Jennifer debated with herself, and then said, “The Bishop says we can, as we both live in the parish, and he offered to officiate. He says it will be a splendid occasion to use the refurbished organ for. She felt no angst. Oddly, his “proposal” hadn’t caused any influx of emotion, one way or the other. That was part of her complicated defense mechanism. Previous proposals had been ... unusual ... and she knew that her quick fantasy about a future Cobb family had been that ... just a quick fantasy. The idea of marrying Bob was similar to the idea of going to Hawaii some day. She’d love to do it, but if it didn’t happen it wouldn’t be the end of the world. She might be sad about it, but it. If you, and not me, were holding her tightly, you would feel her body trembling from a heady mix of frustration, despair and anger.“In ten minutes I will unzip your suit and touch you”.She seems more content now. Relaxed. Resigned? If we, you and I, could see inside her head we would know of the war she is waging with her body. Telling it, beseeching it, not to respond to my touches. To ignore the insidious countdowns which take her closer to the edge, but never far enough, never fast enough.. I couldn't read her face at all. It was hard, but very focused. Her eyes watered, but they didn't quite tear up. My best guess was that she was now extremely conflicted, and wasn't quite sure what to do about it. She didn't seem to want to kill me, immediately anyway, so I guess that was better than what I had expected but she certainly wasn't ready to welcome me into her arms and say "Well, that was most unfortunate!"I was also very tired, having been up most of the night. In fact I now felt.