Thursday:

She really should tell her sister: Carys was her best friend. But how embarrassing to announce, ‘I’m having second thoughts about marrying.’ Carys would probably reply drily, ‘Leaving the exit strategy a bit late, aren’t we?’ And Carys would be right. What the hell are you going to do, Derwena? No solution came to mind.

            Those two cross-terrier puppies Dave’s mum had bought had clarified Derwena’s sense of the imbalance. The male, Shep, fawned and begged for attention – from Dave and his mum, and from the other puppy. He pleaded for his little masculine ego to be acknowledged. Whereas Trixie, the bitch, might allow herself to be stroked but she was bored by Shep’s greedy neediness. Just let me be, she seemed to be saying to both dog and owner. She was an independent soul. That’s me and Dave, Derwena thought. Irreconcilably different; fire and water.