The morning light stung McEwan"s eyes as he raised himself from his own private coma. Something was missing – Kate. A quick flood of yesterday"s events rushed back to him. For a moment McEwan wondered if Saint Claire had stolen her away in the night, and if that might not be for the best. They had begun to seem suited to one another. He remembered last night, and not with the warmth and fondness he once dreamed of.
The light chatter of breakfast TV filtered through to him. She must still be here after all. He didn"t know what to do, how to feel. In the turmoil inside, he knew he still loved her, he knew something was wrong, and he knew he had to try and help her. He felt nervous, and this led to a jitter in his system. He needed a cigarette. Now.
McEwan got up and pulled on his clothes,
