She looked sidelong at Graeme. How well did she really know him, she wondered. How well did he know her? Most pressingly of all, how well did she know herself? How well did they know themselves as a couple? What did they think being a “couple” meant? Was that definition the same for each of them, or did one of them – her, she supposed – expect more than the other of this shifting, amorphous relationship? Where were they? What was happening? Would she know even if she knew? Was it, in fact, possible to know? What did she mean by “possible”? Was language ultimately subjective and, if so, did this rob it of its essential value as a conduit for shared meaning? What did she mean by “meaning,” she wondered. Why was she following this line of questioning? What was it that caused her to compulsively interrogate herself like this? Did she need the toilet? Was the journey from a state of unknowing to a state of knowing merely an illusion? Did knowledge have any intrinsic value? Seriously, did she need the toilet? How could one measure value in this context? What was it that ultimately conferred value? Another subjective judgement, perhaps? Another unknowable...
‘I’m going to the toilet,’ she said, getting up.
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