“Was that a suitcase I saw on your bed?” Timothy asked Harry one morning.

“Yeah, I am going away for the weekend with Becky, to her parent’s little retreat in the mountains.”

“I see,” he said clapping his brother on the back “well I don’t know why you packed so many clothes, I doubt you will need them.”




Harry blushed and didn’t respond. Timothy rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder affectionately and continued “Seriously though, I’m glad to see you happy.” Harry smiled and they turned and walked into the kitchen.


As their voices faded away, Anne released the breath she had been unconsciously holding.




She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but on hearing their voices she had waited for them to pass not wanting to meet Harry in her pyjamas. Now she knew, this weekend was THE weekend. “What does it matter?” she tried to tell herself “You have already lost him, how is this any worse?”


That evening Anne sat in the house alone, listening to the silence. Everyone had gone.




Timothy and Lucy had gone out for a meal and a late film and Harry had left to go to Becky’s. She wandered around the house feeling alone and wishing that her mind wouldn’t keep fixing on what Harry and Becky were bound to get up to this weekend.


Making herself dinner she sat down to watch a film. She had found a bottle of wine in the kitchen and opened it. Anne as a rule hardly drunk any alcohol, but feeling in a reckless mood she poured herself a large glass. She felt she needed something to deaden the pain and distract her from all that was going on inside her head. The wine slipped down easily and she was surprised to find that she had finished the whole bottle without realising it. She got unsteadily to her feet and wandered into the kitchen. Timothy’s brandy, that he had used last year on the Christmas pudding caught her eye and she poured herself a glass.


When she looked back at the Brandy bottle it appeared to be empty too. Funny, she didn’t remember drinking it. A burp, which brought the taste of the brandy back to her assured her that she had. The room appeared to be moving of it’s own accord and her head was beginning to hurt. What she wanted to do was lie down. Getting up and sending her glass flying across the floor, she stumbled off towards the hall.


She saw Harry’s door was open and wandered in without a second thought.




Dropping heavily on his bed she glanced round at the swaying room and saw one of his jumpers laying on a chair nearby. Picking it up Anne instinctively held it to her face and breathed deeply. Sitting on his bed she felt tired and little chilly. So pulling on Harry’s jumper, she lay back on the bed and was soon fast asleep.




When she awoke, she was aware of the bedroom door opening and bleary

opening one eye she saw the owner of the room entering.




A puzzled looking Harry asked “Anne, what are you doing here?”