Chapter 8Things had been strange at home that week. Tom had been incredibly nice and helpful. Completely out of character for him and somewhat reminiscent of our earlier days together. I didn't care. That ship had sailed. Nothing he could do could bring us back to shore now. I was just trying to find my moment. He had cooked my favourite meals, dinner had been waiting every night I had come home. He had poured me a wine every evening, asked me what I wanted to do with our time together, asked if I wanted to pick a film to watch. He had even spent less time in the pub. Although apparently, he had had a clash with Marcus in there and was giving him a wide birth. When I quizzed him as to what that was about he said that Marcus was 'just being his usual twatty self.' I expected that there was
