When the insistent electronic bleeping of the detested alarm penetrated her consciousness at half past six on Saturday morning, she expected that familiar feeling. But it didn’t come. There was no rueing another missed chance for a Friday night out, no lamenting the loss of a day’s walking on the coast, or DIY, or just reading and relaxing in front of the TV. Maybe the regret would grow in future years she thought, as she hauled herself out of the warm haven of her bed. At least the central-heating timer in her flat was working now, so it wasn’t such a battle to get up. And the new carpets she’d had laid made a difference too, much better than those cold wooden boards, trendy though they might be. She’d take comfort over fashion any day. Maybe if she’d started to feel that need to have kids, but not fulfilled it, not even met a man capable of doing so, maybe then she’d start to feel some regret. Maybe if she had met that man, did have those kids but never saw them.
