SevenLondon, the following morning
Don't worry, Dor. I'm not about to break up your happy little home with your happy little gnome.
's**t!' CHARLIE EXCLAIMS, grimacing at the bathroom mirror, glaring at the cut on his face, the trickle of blood.
It is the next morning. Charlie, wearing only his underpants, (why an urge for modesty Lord alone knows) is shaving, using one of Dennis's yellow disposable razors. They had made love again in the morning and both had had a bath, although not together. She, in a pink terry dressing gown, pink towel wrapped around her head like a turban is sitting on the toilet, she's finished what she was doing and is just sitting there, watching Charlie shave, wondering how many times in the past she had seen him do this, upward stokes on the neck and throat, d
