Chapter SeventeenUpstairs, in Sandra's room, a mobile phone rang.
“That's my phone,” Agnes said, recognising the ring tone. “It'll probably be Alan wondering where I am. Yes, it is Alan,” she added, pulling the phone from her pocket.
“Are you going to answer?” Sandra asked, as she watched Agnes stare down at her phone.
“No,” Agnes replied. She laid the phone down on the table.
After the bust-up the day before, Agnes wasn't ready to talk to him. She had been so angry the previous evening that she hadn't even bothered to unpack his suitcase. Instead, she had placed it at one side of the wardrobe.
A couple of minutes later, Sandra's phone rang and, like Agnes, she ignored it when she saw the call was from Michael.
“Now, where were we before we were interrupted?” Sandra asked, placing he
