Marianne had a very nasty temper. It was a fact she was too well aware of. Luckily for everyone in her life, it very rarely reared it’s ugly head since it was very hard to provoke her to true anger. Annoyance, yes, irritation, maybe. But never true anger.
She was feeling it now, that gnawing anger that listened to no reason.
The frustration of the few days had managed to mount so high in her that it needed an outlet. She was irrationally angry, and being told to rest – who the f**k needed that? – was more than enough to cause her anger to overflow.
Jane, her personal companion and the trio of bodyguards her son insisted Marianne have with her at all times, flinched and cowered at a far corner of the room.
The verbal tongue lashing and nitpicking she had subjected them before the de
