She happily floated in that lovely warm abyss between sleep and wakefulness where the running water from the shower wasn’t Tony going about his morning ablutions but rather the rushing flow of a waterfall on a tropical island. Then the water had gone off and a moment later Tony had banged back into the bedroom and issued a reminder to her that they were due at Ngaire and Doug’s for six o’clock sharp that evening. He’d added that he’d meet her there as he had a big job on and it was way over the other side of town before he slunk out the door, not giving her a chance to protest. Wide awake now, Annie lay there for a moment and cursed because despite her decision that facing the music was the best course of action last night, in the cold light of morning she really did not want to. If she had her way, they’d stay home so she could pursue the wedding conversation with Tony. She needed to chip away at his defences bit by bit, not head over to the Goodalls’ place for scintillating chatter about car parts (Doug) or how shocking the amount the hairdresser charged these days was (Ngaire) followed by a meal of meat and three veg.
