" But really, what the fuck did I know? I would have preferred a beer. There was no wrinkled nose this time. The look I got from Katie was one-hundred...per-cent-stink-eye. Her impatiently bobbing hiking boot completed the picture. What the fuck was wrong with me? Like a dickhead, I kept going, trying to find some safe ground. "Have you got any pinot noir?" "Sorry, mate," Michael replied, as Katie tasted the 2009. "We just do sauvignon blanc here." "Oh, don't mind him," she apologised. "Pinot's. I couldn’t stand it and I got up took a walk and while on my way she had been sitting on the stairs and still oiling heavily. She handed me the bottles and told me to put them back on the table. I did and she came back inside and combing her hair she asked me “How is my hair? Is it still thick as when I married your uncle in my early age? Is it oiled and long enough?”.I replied “yes. Still the same.”. Then she said “So you have been keeping an eye on my hair and me. Have you?” and I “no. But I. More

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