It was cosy under here. Serena wriggled sleepily under a blanket of pink coat. She registered the faint scent of tobacco and something lemony. Who round here wore citrus? She fuzzily recalled that Bernie had told her that lemon scent kept the insect bites away. Good idea, she thought, drown the little fuckers in lemon. No better way to do it. This must be Bernie's coat. It cloaked her shoulder nicely, the other side comfortably smushed into the sofa as she dozed in the on-call room. Wouldn't have fit her otherwise. But she appreciated it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of light, a strand of blonde hair whispering across the lapel, another on the collar. The woman shed hair like a golden retriever. Serena might have to bring in a roller for the office. Bernie was a messy creature.
She snuggled back into the sofa for another half an hour. She had no recollection of Bernie draping it over her, just the warm fuzzy sleep enveloping her. She'd get Bernie a pack of custard creams for the biscuit tin later.