Hope was at the table, eyes puffy with lack of sleep, hair unkempt from tossing and turning throughout the early hours, and she played her toast from one hand to the other, hungry, but unable to force the calorific bread into her mouth. She threw it down on the plate. Penny, lemon pyjamas stretching at the seams, gown tied loosely over her belly, slumped into the kitchen, yawning, and flopped into a chair, reaching for the steaming teapot. “Did he stay again last night?” Her tone was challenging, she’d been preparing for an argument since she awoke ten minutes before. Hope sighed, the intrusion on her privacy resented. She’d suspected that Penny had guessed she was sneaking him in at night, and the statement confirmed this, there was no point continuing the charade. “I wish you’d just try and get on with him, especially now he’s asked me to marry him.” Penny was standing instantly, shock across the tempestuous expression she’d forced momentarily before. “That’s disgusting!”
