It was hard to get up this morning. Chris came in with our cups of tea at eight o’clock but he didn’t draw back the curtains, perhaps because the day beyond the bedroom window was cold and sunless. For a while I couldn’t open my eyes so I just stayed there in bed contemplating which I should do first – go to the bathroom or have my cup of tea before it got cold. Doing neither, I dozed off and awoke later to find that my tea was tepid but I drank it all the same, then went to the bathroom.

On my way back I stopped at the top of the stairs and heard music emanating from our bedroom below; Chris had put on “Ride Like the Wind”, my favourite compilation of love songs. I smiled to myself.

Back in bed I listened to the strains of Bonnie Tyler singing “It’s a Heartache”…

“That’s funny,” I said.

“I know,” Chris answered, “I couldn’t find the remote and I think I pressed the Random Play button.”

In the normal run the compilation begins softly with “If you Leave me now” (… you’ll take away the biggest part of me, Uh uh uh uh no baby please don’t go, And if you leave me now, you’ll take away the very heart of me….); next comes the plaintive song, “I’m all out of Love” (I’m lying alone with my head on the phone,Thinking of you till it hurts…); thirdly comes the pièce de résistance, “More Than Words” (Saying I love you, Is not the words I want to hear from you, It’s not that I want you Not to say, but if you only knew How easy it would be to show me how you feel, More than words is all you have to do to make it real…); and if the last song doesn’t have the desired effect the fourth song, “I Wanna Kiss you all Over”, should do the trick, (Baby).

This morning, on Random Play, “It’s a Heartache” was followed by Meatloaf singing “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” and I was unmoved, except for when Chris put an icy-cold hand on my hip and I nearly jumped to the ceiling.

We settled for a bank holiday brunch of bacon and egg. The bacon was very crisp and I picked up a rasher to eat it more easily from my fingers. Having eaten, my fingers were somewhat greasy so rested my left hand on the table and held the shiny index and middle fingers at a strange angle pointing upwards. Chris looked lovingly into my eyes and, at the same time, stretched his arm across the table and caressed my greasy fingers with his hand.

“I love you,” he said tenderly.

“That’s bacon fat on my fingers,” I laughed.

“Oh, and I thought you were just being sexy,” Chris laughed too.

The mind boggles.