She had slept for an hour or more before walking to Tesco’s for groceries, and making dinner: chicken roasted with branches of thyme, garlic and courgettes. The woman could cook; even now, he had to say that much for her. But a part of him always resented the number of dirty dishes, having to rinse them all before stacking them in the dishwasher – except for the roasting dish which she usually said they could leave to soak overnight, and was still there in the sink when he got back from work on Mondays.
