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“Who’s doing the service?”

She srump, the minister reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an old, battered calendar

“Let me see It’s Monday now, so how do Thursday afternoons suit you?”

She looked at him blankly

“Wedding counselling Looks like you two need the full package”

Caroline’s shoulders sluhtly “Thursday will be fine Will you tell Josh or will I?”

At last the old rinned “Oh, I think that should be your job”

“I’ve booked the flights” Andrew McInnes stood in the doorway to the bedrooh time to pack?”

Helen McInnes didn’t look at her husband as she pulled clothes from the drawers “It will have to be”

There was silence She gritted her teeth Andrew McInnes was awhen she’d irl, but noas lonely All those conversations she had with herself All those years spent trying to guess as going on in his head She was tired of it All of it

She heard hi to tell him?”

Helen turned to look at her husband of thirty-five years Logically, she kneas older His hair was greying and there rinkles round his eyes, but he still looked like the o He was tall, with broad shoulders, and deep-set eyes that were always so intense She’d loved those intense blue eyes of his, especially when they were focused on her It’d been a long tile Now it only made her sad

“I guess we have to”

He nodded No wasted words for Andrew McInnes He pushed his hands into the pockets of the ugly tartan trousers he insisted on wearing, and looked at her Just looked

“I better pack, then” He turned and headed to the spare bedroo for almost a year