Childishly I wanted to burry my head under the blanket. I didn’t want her to see me like this. ’I just hadn’t eaten and I had a few drinks after work. That’s all.’

’That’s not what Renee told me.’

’Fuck Tina what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?’

’Drop the act. You never drink like this. The bottle of whiskey we bought three years ago in Scotland is still unopened. I covered the bill, you almost had a bottle of whiskey and I know for sure Paul was kind with his calculation.’ Tina never shied away from calling me out on my bullshit. I imagined her straightening her back before walking into the bar. By then Paul would have polished the glass and wiped the whiskey stains from the bar. Easy French chansons would be playing again. They would share a swift look of understanding but Tina would hold her chin up, and hand him her credit card. Her eyes conveying to mind his own business, before he would hand her the bill. She would look at the disgrace but conceal any reaction. ’Did you?’ She asked quietly.

’Did I what Tina?’

Her hands raked through her hair. ’Did you need your wife?’

Drums got louder in my head. The drum corps marched. I searched for her hand. The golden wedding band glistered in the morning sun. I closed my eyes and pressed a kiss on her ring finger. ’Can you just stay for a little while longer and sit with me in silence?’ I asked horsely.