"But why should I go? I've already had way much caffeine today." He was grumpy from the previous night. He flounced into the next room, scrunching his slippers in his haste. She found him bent over the sofa, reading the paper from the floor. A partly drunk espresso formed a ring in the mug beside him.
“Just bring the Herald with you and join in when you wish”, anything to break the mood. Robert got like this every-so-often; precious, bordering on precocious. He grunted, running one hand mindlessly through his hair and incessantly drumming the fingers of the other on the arm rest.
As they swung into Hargreave Street they could see Miffy sniffing around, waiting for the inevitable scraps. They were a good bunch of friends. Not to live with: Sonia was too brittle, and Will too full of his own importance. But breakfast most Sundays was eminently doable.