Chapter 12

Maybe I should give up on him anyway. He was a great guy and the sex had been good, but if he was this dogmatic about the cigarettes what else would he be so intolerant about? How else would I be expected to change to suit him? Did he want perfection, like he’d had with Tom? Or had convinced himself he’d had.

I put the cigarette out and looked at the pack on the bedside table. After a moment I swept it into the drawer and closed it. I’d sleep on it. Sleep in sheets that still carried the scent of Chris. I closed my eyes and expected to dream of him. 3

I found some motivation a couple of days later, in the Queen’s Head. I popped in there in the morning, while I was out doing errands. it was too early for a drink, so I had a coffee instead. As I stood by the bench with the sugar and stuff, absently reading the things on the notice board above it, I spotted it.