Chapter Twelve
Now
The sight waiting to greet me when I returned home that evening a little earlier than usual, dressed in the dark and businesslike garb that was de rigeur for chambers - a charcoal-grey two-piece and black pantyhose to which most men responded favourably – was beyond stunning.
There, in the recreation-room at the back of the house in which he had once considered himself master, was my husband, wearing…
His pyjamas!
This though it was not quite seven.
But it wasn’t his premature choice of clothing alone that rendered me speechless.
The above and temporary failure of my vocal capacity had been brought about by the fact he was stood in a corner of the room with his nose buried in it as I stood, unobserved, in the doorway and looked on in a condition of shock that was
