‘Right, so we’re agreed: now that only 4 out of 13 lights are working, something has to be done.’

‘Oh, yes. We agreed on that when we had 5 out of 13 lights working.’

The knitting needles clicked.

‘They’re a bit of a pain, aren’t they, those halogen things?’

‘Yeah. I certainly wouldn’t have put them in if it was me did this room up.’


And they passed the evening in the almost silence of an ageing relationship. The knitting needles were clicked. The milk rock was scoffed. The cups of tea were slurped.

And tomorrow the glasses would need to be found. And possibly a torch.