Hours later, she woke on the floor. The grilles were creaking as the heating came on. Her nose was still bright from the cold night-time air. Dawn lit the window. Linda got up. She touched the wall lightly and smiled again.
Around ten, Mark let himself into the kitchen. He clutched a box from Greggs in his hand. ‘I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I brought you these. Yum yums. I thought … with tea?’
Linda smiled. He was trying. But then she realised he was waiting for her to put on the kettle.
‘It’s over there,’ she directed him.
Mark manfully flicked the switch. He fussed looking for mugs and getting hold of teabags. Linda put a pint of milk on the table next to the doughnuts.
‘My Mum would kill me,’ Mark babbled. ‘For what I said yesterday. I don’t know what I was thin
