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Last night we flipped a coin for the bed. I won. Toby slept on the sofa which was similar to sleeping on a board. He woke with a backache. The bed wasn’t much better. Instead of hard, it was too soft. The support had broken down over the years. You got lost in it and got up the next day with a pained body that had contorted to a host of unfamiliar positions. Neither of us had a restful night. The plan was for Toby to get the bed tonight and me the sofa. No way was I having another night like the last. Toby will have to take me to a motel in the area. Even a dump has to be better than last night.
Toby had a timed coffee-maker, seemingly out of place with the rest of the camp-like atmosphere, which brewed the coffee as we slept. I rose first, sauntered past Toby who was curled up on the
