Eve White: Literary Agent

from AS IT IS ON TELLY

Bunty realised that her marriage was probably over, once and for all, the day she received the bill for her husband’s vasectomy. She threw the offending envelope across the breakfast table. ‘What the hell’s this?’ Graham scanned the letter, a liverish flush seeping up his neck. ‘Bollocks. It’s an invoice. I told the woman I didn’t need an invoice.’ Bunty shook her head in disbelief. Trust Graham to answer the wrong question. ‘What the hell’s this’ hadn’t actually referred to the piece of paper, the printed statement of the fact that her husband had, unbeknown to her, checked himself into hospital and paid someone several hundred pounds to sever the tubes to his future paternity. His answer was not ‘Oh, maybe I should have told you about that’, or ‘Ah, yes, well the doctor said I had to for my particularly horrible and life-threatening medical condition and I didn’t want to worry you’, or even ‘Bloody hell, that’s some amazing mistake – as if I’d have a vasectomy without you knowing!’ No. He was only annoyed because they’d billed him at home. Graham’s non-sequitur was supreme evidence of their growing distance from each other. Alienation. He was actually starting to look a bit like an alien, thought Bunty. Green-tinged. Ears sticking out even more as the hair on his pate thinned. A strand of Orange Shred stuck in his teeth. No, not an alien, she realised. Shrek. Her husband looked like Shrek. Perhaps it was a very good thing that they wouldn’t be having any more children. Even so, she would have liked it to have been a joint decision. Something they’d discussed. Even mentioning it in passing in a cast-off ‘Don’t forget the dry cleaning’ manner would have been an improvement. ‘So,’ she said slowly, making sure that Graham could fully comprehend what her point was, ‘you went off to have a vasectomy, didn’t tell me or even ask me what I thought, and then put the bill on my Visa card. What is wrong with this picture?’