Chapter 3: December 23rd
I wake up and there are three text messages from Guy on my phone, and one from my mother: it’s a picture of her and Kit at the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland.
I look out of the window. The sky is of the sort you could imagine hanging over a dark, gothic castle during a dramatic moment. It’s the sort of weather that makes you want to stay in with a good book. To be fair, though, most kinds of weather inspire me with that wish.
Scrambling out of bed, I put a woolly sweater over my T-shirt and pull on a pair of grey slacks, and head for the kitchen. Absent-minded as I am, I don’t immediately hear the noises coming from there, and only once I cross the threshold, do I notice that Tom’s in here. He’s standing in front of the fridge, unloading groceries from the
