It wasn’t often that I became a Bad Mood Bear and it bugged me when it hit and I couldn’t find a reason for it. I had a job I loved, good friends and a roof over my head. What did I have to be miserable about? If I probed my feelings further and was truly honest with myself, I knew what it was. I was lonely. Tom would probably end up seeing more of Diana, Daddy appeared to have a new friend and I’d be left behind without anyone again. I’d also had a call from my mother that morning and, from what I could tell, all was not so rosy with Nigel. She’d more or less implied that I should wrangle it for my Dad to move back in and when I’d refused she’d got quite tetchy. And amongst all this misery, the image of Luke’s huge frame kept popping into my head. No doubt he’d bedded some perfectly polished Sloane Ranger type last night and for some reason that thought irked me. I wanted him to be bigger than that, better than that, but if he was anything like his friends, it didn’t bode well.
