Leaving him to unpack a few things I turn at the door, ‘Put your case in the wardrobe; there’s not a lot of room in here and we’re likely to trip over it if you leave it on the floor.’
‘Sure, no problem.’
‘Good, I’ll make us some more coffee.’
Cuddling up together on the sofa, Peter nuzzles my neck.
‘I’m hoping you won’t make me sleep on the sofa.’
‘Oh, I think such a lovely evening deserves a better ending than that, don’t you?’ and together we make our way to the bedroom.
Waking up the following morning with Peter beside me, I lie there, looking at him whilst he sleeps. How strange that the man making his hasty exit from the Renaissance Hotel should be so very similar, whatever must be the odds of that? I recall Peter’s reaction when I related my tale, it was only fleeting but I’m
