1984

           ‘Whydidn’tyougiveheragoodshove?’saidJulia.‘Iwouldhave.’ 

           ‘Yes,dear,youwouldhave. Iwould,ifI’dbeenthesamepersonthenasIamnow. OrperhapsIwould—I’mnotcertain.’ 

           ‘Areyousorryyoudidn’t?’ 

           ‘Yes.OnthewholeI’msorryIdidn’t.’ 

           Theyweresittingsidebysideonthedustyfloor. Hepulledhercloseragainsthim. Herheadrestedonhisshoulder,thepleasantsmellofherhairconqueringthepigeondung. Shewasveryyoung,hethought,shestillexpectedsomethingfromlife,shedidnotunderstandthattopushaninconvenientpersonoveracliffsolvesnothing. 

           ‘Actuallyitwouldhavemadenodifference,’hesaid. 

           ‘Thenwhyareyousorryyoudidn’tdoit?’ 

           ‘OnlybecauseIpreferapositivetoanegative. Inthisgamethatwe’replaying,wecan’twin. Somekindsoffailurearebetterthanotherkinds,that’sall.’ 

           Hefelthershouldersgiveawriggleofdissent. Shealwayscontradictedhimwhenhesaidanythingofthiskind. Shewouldnotacceptitasalawofnaturethattheindividualisalwaysdefeated. Inawaysherealizedthatsheherselfwasdoomed,thatsoonerorlatertheThoughtPolicewouldcatchherandkillher,butwithanotherpartofhermindshebelievedthatitwassomehowpossibletoconstructasecretworldinwhichyoucouldliveasyouchose.