At dinner Callan pulled her chair out for her, which he does for everybody, and she sat down and said:
“If I’d met you first I’d have picked differently.”
I had a mouthful of water and nearly went into it. Bram went scarlet.
And I waited for my husband to say something, and he smiled into his glass.
“Sasha. Don’t. He’s my husband.”
She laughed like I had said something mad. “Oh, relax. You know I’m joking.”
She was at his elbow for the entire evening telling him what a good husband he was and barely saying eleven words to Bram.
Upstairs I said, “Why are you letting her do that?”
And Callan said, “I love you, sweetheart. I’ll have a word.”
I wanted that to be enough and I let it be enough, and that is the first of my own decisions in this.
