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and pretended it was ever thus.
    As he walked to the end of the hall he could see the back of her silky blonde head nestled into the cushions of the sofa, a shoeless foot perched on the coffee table, and one long, slender, elegant arm stretched out across the back of the sofa. He was not surprised to see a bottle in her hand.
    â€˜Hello hushband,’ she slurred, tossing her head back and looking upside down at him. ‘Wanna drink?’
    She thrust the bottle up at him and Mac took it from her, momentarily distracting her with the flowers.
    â€˜Oh, they’re so beautiful!’ she gushed. ‘I have to put them in water straight away.’
    She struggled to get up but Mac stayed her with a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’ll do it.’
    He walked into the kitchen and laid the flowers on the bench. Opening the corner cupboard, he tried to focus on finding a vase and ignoring the feeling of desolation creeping up his body, into his chest, making his breathing laboured. His mouth and throat went dry. He wished he could be somewhere else, be someone else.
    Anna burst through the door unsteadily, wavinga cigarette in one hand. God, if she was smoking as well she was going to be sick sooner rather than later. ‘You took the bottle, naughty boy!’ she scolded, picking it up off the bench where Mac had left it. She looked around vaguely for a few moments, frowning. ‘Where did I leave my glass?’ she muttered, before shrugging, and drinking straight from the bottle.
    Mac eased it gently from her. ‘Anna, keep going like this and you know what’s going to happen.’
    â€˜I’ll get pissed.’
    He decided not to point out that she already was. ‘You’ll get sick,’ he corrected her, deftly plucking the cigarette from her fingers. ‘Especially if you smoke as well.’
    â€˜Oh, Mackie!’ she pouted, but she didn’t stop him from tossing it in the sink. Instead she looped her arms around his neck and slumped against him.
    â€˜Are you okay?’
    Anna shook her head and let out a sob. She had descended to the next level. Tears.
    â€˜Come on. Let me take you up to bed,’ Mac said gently.
    She threw her head back to look at him. ‘Okay,’ she crooned, attempting to sound seductive. ‘Take me to bed.’ She kissed him hard on the lips. She tasted of alcohol and cigarettes and desperation. It was all he could do not to push her off, instead he slowly eased back from her.
    â€˜Come on, Mackie,’ she persisted. ‘We’ll do it properly, for real, like we used to. I’ll even be on top if you like.’
    â€˜Let’s get upstairs and we’ll see.’
    Mac knew she would barely make it up the stairs, he just wanted to get her moving in that direction. She blathered on about something the whole way, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was almost carrying her by the end as they staggered through the door to their bedroom and across to the bed. Anna fell back like a dead weight, closing her eyes and sighing loudly. Mac loosened his tie and removed his jacket, arranging it carefully across the back of a chair nearby. He stared down at her. She was still so beautiful, as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes on her. They’d met at one of those murder-mystery parties that were all the rage at the time. Anna was still at uni, completing the fourth year of her psychology degree before she started an internship as a clinical psychologist. Mac had finished uni and was celebrating being accepted into the graduate intake of an international firm of management consultants. It was a dream come true. And so was Anna. She was dressed as a 1920s flapper in an authentic hired costume, not the makeshift outfits the rest of them had put together. She’d literally taken his breath away. All in white and silver, fair and fragile, like a porcelain doll. She was perfect, and he knew he had to have her. Not just for the night,