Gina stomped down the stairs, her dressing gown buttoned right up to her throat.
In the kitchen, she found Trevor, staring into space, a mug of coffee and a plate of toast on the table in front of him.
For a split second Gina forgot herself and was about to ask her husband if there was any hot water left in the kettle. But, in the nick of time, she remembered – she couldn’t ask about this, or anything else, because she and Trevor weren’t talking.
Instead, she wordlessly spooned coffee granules into her favourite mug and reheated the kettle. She didn’t ask Trevor if he wanted a top-up, as she usually would. She did not turn to smile at him, or even send a glance in his direction.
For his part, Trevor sat in stony silence.
This had been going on for three days. But Gina wouldn’t yield. Trevor could apologise when he was ready. Until then, it was separate bedrooms and the silent treatment, as far as she was concerned.
‘Are you feeling
