He fixed himself a meal by reheating some bolognese sauce from the freezer and cooking a pan of fresh pasta, and carried it into the living room, switching on the television and positioning his chair so that he could watch while he ate. The national news came on at six thirty-five but Mike paid scant attention to it. He was, to his dismay, thinking about Maggie again, and he wondered what the hell was the matter with him. He had been thinking about her on and off all day, disturbing thoughts that he cursed himself for having but seemed powerless to prevent. Somehow she had got under his skin and she was there with him every waking moment whether he was actually thinking about her or not. When had it begun? he asked himself in a rare bout of self-examination, but he couldn’t come up with an answer. It had happened so insidiously. At first she had simply been Ros’s sister but somewhere along the line the balance had changed. For some time now he had entertained doubts about his relationship with Ros, he realised.
