I walk around the bed, over to the window, feeling my feet sink into the deep carpet. Not the easiest of dance surfaces, but nevertheless, I take my stance and waltz her. Feeling her back arch under my guidance as I move us through the steps. ‘Goodnight, Sadie. Goodnight, Sadie, I’ll see you in my dreams,’ my tired voice sings. ‘Irene,’ I imagine her protests, ‘it’s Irene, not Sadie.’
