Sun at Midnight. Rosie Thomas

      ‘Are you going so far away because of me?’ he asked.

      She smiled. ‘No, Pete. I’m going because of me. And partly because of Margaret.’

      Peter sighed. He stood up and looked around the kitchen. ‘I made a good job of those shelves.’

      They had come in a flat pack from Ikea. He had assembled them and fixed them to the wall.

      Alice suddenly laughed. She felt the upward swing of happiness. Everything was going to be all right. ‘You did,’ she said softly.

      ‘I’d better get to the studio, I suppose. I’m still working on Desiderata