Lesley had two weeks of annual leave, and when her colleagues asked if she was going away, she’d shaken her head and told them she had a lot to do at home. She could tell by their faces that she hadn’t sounded as if she was looking forward to it, and wished she’d smiled instead and said she intended to have a great time. But calling it ‘a lot to do’ was an understatement.
How could you class ‘ending your marriage’ as no more than ‘a lot to do’?
Graham also had time off. They both had the same weeks every year. Lesley was dreading it, but she knew they couldn’t go on the way they were any longer. Hardly husband and wife, they were more like strangers sharing a house. They didn’t even sleep in the same bed now. She’d used the excuse that her stiff shoulder made her restless, and she didn’t want to keep waking him knowing he had to be up at five. His reply had been that he was more worried about
