“Fat chance of that,” Sophie mumbled, looking around for her slipper socks. It was nippy this morning, she rooted through the clothes hanging off the door peg, baulking at the crazy notion of donning one of her seductive silk wraps. Her hands found the warmth and comfort of her oldest, longest, furriest dressing gown. Quickly she wrapped herself in it, revelling in the heat it cocooned around her. After checking on a still sleeping soundly Josh and Jake, she hurried down the stairs to open the back door. Freezing air invaded her kitchen, teeth chattering she waited for the dogs to relieve themselves, before whistling them back in and locking the frost and the ice out. As if on cue, the heating system burst to life and Sophie clicked the kettle on, she was parched and in desperate need of a
