Ed Mulrenan, a native New Englander, is a financial analyst in Boston. He also happens to be a fanatical supporter of Liverpool Football Club, one of England’s most storied teams. He knows the game.

Four years ago, Wilkinson moved to Boston from the UK to take a job as a research scientist. She needed a room and answered an ad for a place in Brighton, where Mulrenan was living with a group of friends.

“We brought Kim down to the Phoenix Landing,’’ Mulrenan said, referring to the Cambridge pub where there is always a soccer game on the TV. “We walked in and a Newcastle game was on. I guess it was a good omen.’’

Newcastle’s biggest rival in the northeast of England is Sunderland. And when Mulrenan made fun of Sunderland’s stadium using a particular form of derision that is common in Newcastle, Kim Wilkinson turned to stare at him and knew she was looking at the man she would marry.

They fell in love at a bar in Central Square, watching a Newcastle game, making fun of Sunderland.

So they went back to the Phoenix Landing yesterday, husband and wife, to watch England and the United States play in the World Cup.

And because they love each other, they wouldn’t sit with each other.

If there was any chance they would sit with each other, it ended the other day, when Kim Wilkinson said she had to go to iParty.

“You’re going to paint your face, aren’t you?’’ Ed Mulrenan asked his wife.

“Yes,’’ Kim Wilkinson said. “I’m going to paint my face.’’

“I’m going to sit with the Americans,’’ Ed Mulrenan said.

“I’m going to sit with the English,’’ Kim Wilkinson said back.

To save the marriage, they had to separate.

The English and Americans are a people separated by a common language. Yesterday, Kim Wilkinson and Ed Mulrenan were a couple separated by their better instincts.

Kim Wilkinson, a 30-year-old scientist, painted her face the white and red of St. George’s Cross, wrapped the England flag around her shoulders, and sat next to Tess Dedman, a fellow Englishwoman.

Ed Mulrenan went to the other side of the bar with American supporters to sing songs with unprintable lyrics. The Americans outnumbered the English fans 10 to 1.

Kevin Treanor, one of the pub’s owners, was relieved to see Mulrenan and Wilkinson separate, if only for 90 minutes. The game had brought them together. A game could pull them apart.

“Marriage and conflicting World Cup loyalties don’t mix,’’ said Treanor.

The Phoenix Landing was a heaving, sweaty, deafening mix of humanity at kickoff. Just four minutes into the game, England’s captain, Steven Gerrard, scored. Kim Wilkinson and Tess Dedman leaped from their seats and hugged. Across the floor, Ed Mulrenan looked like he had been punched in the face.

Before the half was over, though, the Americans were even. Clint Dempsey kicked what looked like an innocuous shot toward England’s keeper, Robert Green, who fumbled it and watched helplessly as it squirted torturously over the line.

Kim Wilkinson had been quite dignified, quite English actually, while celebrating England’s goal. She did not taunt the Americans who surrounded her. That would be bad form. Ed Mulrenan, all impetuous Yank, was slightly less reticent. Moments after the US had tied it, he barged his way to his wife’s side and shouted, “USA! USA! USA!’’ into her ear.

Yemi Oviosu, a 21-year-old Londoner here for a month-long internship at Novartis, saw what he thought was a classic case of harassment and sprang to action.

“Hey, mate!’’ Oviosu said, inserting himself between the petite Wilkinson and the hulking Mulrenan. “Back off!’’

Kim Wilkinson put up her hand, shook her head, and said, sheepishly, “It’s all right. He’s my husband.’’

Within a minute Oviosu and Mulrenan were trading stories and Kim Wilkinson was rolling her eyes.

“Men,’’ she said, shaking her head.

The second half was a nail biter. England controlled the play but couldn’t get one past Tim Howard, the American goaltender, who, like many of the better Americans on the team, plays professionally in England.

Mulrenan had pondered the prospect of the US repeating its 1950 defeat of England in the World Cup, which to this day is considered one of the tournament’s biggest upsets.

“I spent last Christmas in Newcastle and Kim’s brother was on me the whole time,’’ he said. “He said Americans are morons when it comes to football. That nobody cares about the sport in the US. The whole of England just assumes they will beat the Americans. They can’t imagine losing to the Americans. It would be a national disaster.’’

There would be no national disaster. The game ended in a 1-1 draw. Which is probably a good thing for at least one marriage.

People were already leaving the bar as Ed Mulrenan waited patiently in back of his wife, waiting for her to turn on her stool, to face him.

He bent down and kissed her.

She kissed him back.

They both seem relieved.

It was, unlike marriage, only a game.

Kevin Cullen is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at cullen@globe.com.