Annie’s words shredded Tom’s heart, but he waited for the call to finish before opening the door.
‘I’m slaughtering the pig today. Shall I ask Stan to help?’
Her smile, as she promised to make dinner, was one she never directed at him anymore.
‘I’ll put a chunk of meat on the porch for you,’ he said.
When the smell of pot-roast drifted from the kitchen, Tom picked up the remains of the carcass.
‘I liked you, Stan, but Annie loved you. Hope she’s still hungry.’