So, Ches said he and Jen can come,’ Scott said, his nose red as he cradled a mug of hot chocolate.
He’d just returned from night fishing. Kim secretly thought he was mad, as it was freezing. She’d shivered in bed without him to snuggle into.
‘Where?’ she asked, taking eggs from the fridge.
Scott was about to shower while she cooked breakfast. She couldn’t wait because his fishy smell was making her feel queasy.
‘To Lake Farm.’
As she sliced bread, she could have sworn he said Lake Farm, but she must have misheard. She’d booked the break months ago when she had wanted to encourage his new-found obsession – sorry, hobby. Lately, though, she was dreading the stay at a luxury Devon fishing complex to celebrate his 40th. Fishing was coming between them.
‘What? Ches and Jen are coming with us?’
‘Yeah – great, isn’t it?’ he said, disappearing upstairs.
As Scott showered, Kim peeled mushrooms and sighed. After breaking his leg, he’d stopped running – a hobby they’d shared. Six weeks in plaster, followed by months
