No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel Read Online Free Page A

that for a million afternoons in stupid bloody corporate hospitality. Does he have any idea how lucky he is?” she spat out.
    “Oh Alison, I’m sure he does. It’s just sod’s law isn’t it, that it all happens on the same day.”
    “Sod’s law that he gets a daughter he can’t even be bothered to go and see in a school play and we get nothing.”
    “Hey, come on, it might work this time.”
    “But what if it doesn’t? I can’t even think about how I will cope. I just don’t think I’ll be able to pick myself up again and carry on.”
    “Alison, it doesn’t do you any good to think like that. We will cope because we will have no choice but to cope. Look, why don’t you call Karen and see if she wants to meet you for lunch, take your mind off it for a while?”
    He hoped this would get her off the phone. He felt guilty but he had lost track of how many times they had had a similar conversation and it was grinding him down. Yes he wanted a child too but he hated what it was doing to them both. Before all of this it was Alison who had kept their lives on track, always somehow knowing the right thing to do. But that Alison had long gone and he was now the one desperately trying to hold it together for both of them and he suspected he was failing dismally.
    “Christ Matthew, you never want to talk about it do you? Why can’t you be grown up enough to just talk to me about it?” she sobbed.
    He closed his eyes briefly. It killed him when she said things like that as it bought out all his insecurities. That he wasn’t good enough for her. That he didn’t impress her with his desperate attempts to be the kind of guy he thought she wanted him to be with his career in financial consultancy, his company car and his expense account. That underneath he was still the chancer he was when she had met him.
    “I try Alison, believe me I try, but you have to get this in perspective somehow. Look nobody died did they?”
    The moment the words had left his mouth he knew it was possibly the most idiotic thing he had ever said.
    “Well that just says it all doesn’t it. You have absolutely no idea.”
    Call Ended blinked up on his screen.
    All he could feel was relief. He knew he should call her back but he would get it wrong all over again. Where was the manual for dealing with a wife who had changed out of all recognition the minute she started struggling to have a child?
    The radio cut back in and he listened to the guys ringing in, airing their views on which players should go to which teams. He wished he was as free of worry as them, with time to rant on national radio that they were the only people who really knew what to do about the trials and tribulations of the state of British football, and if it wasn’t for the day job they could have been the best manager the country had ever known.
    He was late when he finally got to his meeting at the Leeds office. His colleagues based there could not resist the usual jibes reserved for anyone based in London.
    “Get lost did you? Forget that England does actually exist outside the M25?” asked Ian.
    “Funny,” Matthew replied. “The fact that I am born and bred Yorkshire and you are a southern wuss masquerading as a tough northern bloke seems to escape your memory.”
    “Southern wuss?” exclaimed Ian, getting up and grabbing his discarded tie from the coat stand. “And there’s me busy telling the client you are the shining star coming all the way up from the big smoke to give them some dazzling PowerPoint action.”
    “I hope you haven’t built me up or anything,” said Matthew, starting to feel nervous.
    “Not at all. I just told them that your bar charts inspire the same awe in finance directors as art lovers experiencing a Van Gogh for the first time and your little jokes about hedge fund tax will have them rolling in the aisles.”
    “Thanks, I really appreciate that,” replied Matthew gloomily.
    “Anytime my friend. Anytime. Still up for a few cheeky