She has told me she wrote it at about two in the morning and that it frightened her enough that she made a decision, and the decision was the trip.
So the five days in the October were not a nice idea she had.
They were a plan she made because she had looked at her own death and worked out that she was the single point of failure in somebody else's life.
And she sat on it for about seven months before she booked anything, because I booked it, in the June, and she let me think it was mine.
And the last thing.
The red jumper.
It is mine.
She borrowed it in the February of 2019 for something and never gave it back, and it has been a running joke between us for six years. It comes up about twice a year. I have a photograph of her in it from a Christmas.
