The smell of perfume and alcohol drifted into her slumber while a shaft of cold air chilled the warmth beneath the duvet. She did her best to keep her breathing steady, and inhaled deeply to catch that scent again. It was a sweet smell, slightly musky with essence of heather. Or was it lavender? She wasn’t quite sure. A sickly smell. Not his aftershave and certainly not her own perfume.Well, she silently acknowledged, at least he’s come home this time. And, closing her eyes, she let the familiar pictures form of her apparent rival. She assumed, despite his consistent denials, that it was another woman keeping him away from home. It seemed logical and though, as a rule, she hated to generalise, wasn’t that what normally happened when a man hit forty? Usually she would challenge him about his whereabouts, but tonight was different. Tonight she felt different. It was comical really, almost like he wanted her to catch him. Had he stopped hiding from her or had he just become sloppy? Careless even.
