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in the fresh drawer. Then she wandered across the room to the veg rack and picked up the last onion. “Someone needs to go shopping, methinks.”

She was tempted to ring Mark to see how long he was going to be and possibly hint at picking up a takeaway on his way home, but she chastised herself. “He’s got enough on his plate, why bother him? Knuckle down and get on with it, girl.”

That’s what she did. Disappointed she couldn’t make a better meal for the love of her life, she prepared the ingredients to hand. Chopping away all the bad bits on the peppers, she dropped them into the pan, then began frying the contents, adding the final few rashers of bacon as an afterthought. She added the whisked eggs, shook in a few dried herbs and was delighted with the result. A frittata big enough for two. She hoped it would reheat satisfactorily when Mark came in from work; if not, there would be nothing left in the fridge for him to eat and he’d be forced to have beans on toast for dinner.

Sara plated up her meal and took it into the lounge. She sat on the sofa, her legs tucked underneath her and switched on the TV. She changed channels a few times and then settled on a documentary about the effects of climate change. Politicians, especially in the States, had pushed the issue aside for years and now the planet was in severe danger. Her eyelids began to droop; she turned the TV off, finding the programme rather depressing, and washed up her plate.

Misty wound herself around her legs a few times. “Want to go out, Munchkin?”

The cat rushed to the back door, and Sara waited for her to go to the toilet and to return. She glanced up at the stars twinkling in the clear night sky, wishing that Mark was there with her.

After clearing away the dishes she’d used, she wandered upstairs to bed and settled down with the latest Linda S. Prather thriller. It had been a while since the talented author had released a book, so she was eager to dive in. However, she must have been more tired than she realised and found herself struggling to stay awake. Eventually, she placed her Kindle on the bedside table, switched off the light and snuggled down under the quilt. It was eleven-fifteen and still no sign of Mark yet.

A few hours later, Sara’s ears pricked up. Was that the front door? Whenever Mark worked late, he always had the decency to creep around downstairs so as not to wake her. She strained her ear to listen for his footfalls on the stairs. When he didn’t enter the room after a few minutes, that’s when the fear struck. Is it him or is it an intruder?

Phone in hand, she pulled on her towelling robe and quietly crept down the stairs. She was halfway down when she heard a noise coming from the kitchen.

Swallowing down the bile that had emerged, she tentatively descended the rest of the stairs and pushed open the kitchen door. “My God, it is you. I thought there was a possible stranger in the house. Are you all right?”

Mark slowly turned to face her and she gasped. “Not really.”

She rushed towards him and ran a hand over his injured face. His nose was bleeding, his top lip swollen and his right eye was starting to discolour. “Here, sit down. What the hell happened to you, darling?”

“It’s nothing. It’ll heal. It goes with the territory.”

“What? Are you insane? You’re a bloody vet, for fuck’s sake. What are you talking about? Who did this to you?”

“A client. He brought his German Shepherd in for an examination. Possible hip dysplasia. The examination is often painful for the animal, but I have to see the extent of the disease. The dog cried out, and the guy shouted at me; the next thing I knew, I was lying on my back on the floor after he lumped me one.”

“Oh no, my poor baby. Who was it? A regular customer?”

“No, he’s new to the area. I took him on, even though the practice is full, and that’s the thanks I get.”

“Jesus, maybe they handle vets differently where he comes from. Give me his name. He can’t be allowed to go around punching people like that, it’s assault. We can get him for ABH.”

Mark shook his head and waved away her concerns. “No, I understand why he did it. He loves his dog and I hurt her, it shows how much he cares for the animal.”

Sara held her husband’s damaged face between her hands and kissed him gently on the lips. “And that’s why I love you so much. You’re such a forgiving, understanding human being.”

“I do my best.” He laughed and winced.

“Have you been to the hospital?”

“No. It happened a few hours ago, I performed the operation I had planned and then came straight home. I couldn’t let the owner of the cat down. I didn’t have to see the owner as the cat is staying in to recover overnight, so I wasn’t under pressure to get cleaned up.”

“You’re amazing. Will you let me clean you up?”

“Would you mind? You have a heavy day ahead of you, you should get some sleep.”

“I’m awake now. Let me care for my man. Have you eaten?”

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “No, not yet. Haven’t felt hungry until now. What did you have?”

“I’ve let you down, there wasn’t much in the fridge. I knocked up a frittata, yours is in the microwave, not sure how the hell it’s going to reheat though. It’s there if you want to take a chance.”

“You always doubt your cooking abilities and there’s no need for you to apologise for not getting the shopping in. We’re a partnership, we both work long hours. The onus isn’t on you to fill the cupboards, we should both shoulder the blame

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