Brian is gazing out of the bedroom window. He looks at the garden below and would like to see beyond their boundary to the houses in the next street. Fog is swirling around, thick but not mixed with toxic substances on this occasion. Light appears to be fighting through the murk and, if it succeeds, it should be a pleasant day, dry, warm and sunny. If the fog lifts. He walks downstairs to the kitchen, feeling confident that the day will brighten and follow a pattern that they have seen in the past week. He sits at the kitchen table and Elsie brings him a bowl of porridge and a cup of coffee. He’s had the same breakfast every day since they married and appears unlikely to change. Eggs and bacon, for Brian, are for birthday and Christmas morning only. Elsie wants to know if he plans to drive
