‘Who was Caron?’ asked Anne ‘My wife. She died last November.’ ‘Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Stan. I didn’t mean…’ ‘No, that’s all right, Anne. Oh, it still hurts, but I’m trying to get on with life, now.’ There was another long moment’s silence before he continued, ‘You’re right, we ought to go, there’s work in the morning.’ Stan stood, to assist Anne out of her chair, but despite the wine, Anne succeeded in erecting herself without help, albeit with a slight falter. On the way to the cloakroom, Anne nearly tripped and Stan moved to hold her, but she kept her balance – just. The moment’s levity was enough to break the slightly sombre mood that had descended, and Anne giggled at Stan’s hesitant, aborted assistance. Taking her arm with all the dignity he could muster, Stan guided her out, picking up his jacket and Anne’s wrap on the way. Once outside, Anne shivered. Stan couldn’t help himself – Anne’s nipples pointed themselves out to him, very graphically. Anne certainly noticed, and. Jake watched Ashira eat while he nibbled at his sandwich. ‘Jake, I need you to move the tray,’ Ashira said suddenly. Jake grabbed the tray and Ashira made a mad dash for the bathroom. On her way back from the bathroom, Ashira bumped into a worried Sunshine. ‘I’m okay Sunny,’ Ashira said quietly. She closed her eyes as another wave of nausea gripped her before turning around and heading back into the bathroom. This time, Ashira made it back to the bedroom without further incident. ‘You okay?’ Jake asked. Ashira nodded and gave a wan smile. ‘I hate this part,’ she whispered. Jake smiled gently as he settled down next to Ashira on the bed and kissed her gently. ‘Do you want to try eating again?’ he asked. Ashira shook her head. ‘Not yet, but do we have any 7-up?’ Ashira asked. Jake shook his head. ‘I can get you some if you want,’ Jake offered. ‘No, it’s okay, don’t make any special trips,’ Ashira said softly. Jake rolled his eyes. ‘Will it help your stomach?’ Jake wanted to know..
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