"Are you absolutely sure you don't mind?" she asked, brushing her hand down his back as she walked past him into the sitting room to take up her seat by the fire.
"Camilla, be quiet" he said, following her from the kitchen. He slipped his jumper over his head before leaning down to where she was seated on the settee, kissing her primarily to stop her asking him for the fourth time if he really minded her going up to Chelsea when they were meant to be having a rare Sunday afternoon together.
"You haven't seen", he paused, trying desperately to remember this woman's name, straightening the hem of the woollen garment. "Who was it?"
"Isobel" she replied
"In years" he carried on, sitting down next to her. "So go up there, have a lovely time, come back and tell me all about it. I will just go up to Mum for tea whilst my wife neglects me".
Before she could protest, even though she knew he was joking, he kissed her again.
"Go up there and enjoy yourself. There'll be plenty of other Sundays".
She smiled at him as he retreated to collect his coat, just this time wishing just once he would not be so understanding and just once he'd said 'no' to her.