Once I had finished my final meeting for the day I drove home to break the news to Tom that I would be out this evening. I also had the task of attempting to make myself look pretty, but not too pretty. Tom would not want me going out looking too pretty. The fact that I was going out anyway was going to be a problem enough on its own.
Surprise, surprise he's lying on the sofa half cut. It's amazing how this 'working when he wants to work' doesn't seem to extend the normal working hours that we all have to endure. He hasn't contributed any rent or money towards bills for the last eight months. Apparently 'the work isn't coming in right now.' I would imagine whatever brewery it was that he was in today will be doing ok.
'Tom, I have been asked to go to a work thing tonight.'
He stirs from
