Despite his heavy drinking the night before, Thomas got up bright and early.
‘Do you want any breakfast?’ Martha asked, putting the kettle on to boil.
At the kitchen table, he gave his order, ‘Scrambled eggs on toast.’
She quietly flitted around the kitchen. The coffee was brewed first it was left to permeate through. Meanwhile, Martha whisked the eggs with vigour. Made in the pan, careful not to burn the bottom, she added the right amount of salt and pepper at the last minute.
In no time at all, his breakfast was ready.
Sat opposite him, she couldn’t help admiring his rugged face, full of importance and composure. ‘You always look smart,’ Martha said.
‘Got to make the right impression,’ Thomas said, in between bites.
Martha nodded and straightened his tie.
‘What are your plans for today?’ he asked.
‘I was thinking of doing some shopping, we’re running low on eggs and milk.’ She wrung her hands under the table.
‘That can wait, the garden is a bit of a mess, with all those leaves. It might be your last chance to get out there.’ Every so often he glanced at Martha, who sipped at her tea.
‘I was thinking that too, while I’m out I could get some bags.’
‘There’s no need for that, there’s some new in the shed from last time.’
‘Oh yes, I forgot.’
He calmly cupped her chin. ‘Like you forgot to mention you were meeting Laura.’
Martha steadied against the table, didn’t look away.