“I’m no used to this, Thomas. Sitting at a table and that, to eat like.” Thomas raised eyebrows. “No?” “I always eat in front the TV. Habit eh? Shovel it in and stare at some story.” “We could take it through to the living room if you want.” “No.” Lorna shook her head. She took a sip from her glass. “No,” she said. “I don’t mean I don’t like it.” She smiled at him. It seemed to Thomas her eyes bulbed out and there was a strain in her as she looked back at him. Maybe she was finding it harder than she thought, carrying out her crazy plan. Thomas preferred to illustrate characters like that, the ones who had big ideas but not enough nerve to sustain the necessary action. He would draw them with that same strain in their eyes. “My wife and I had problems here, Lorna. It wasn’t a fairy tale marriage by any means. Especially not the last eighteen months. But I did love her.” Lorna nodded. She looked down at the dark-wooded table top. “You don’t have to tell me anything, though, Thomas.
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