‘Steve, fancy a cuppa?’
Steve waved away Liz’s offer. She paused, enjoying watching his lithe arms manhandle the paving slab. She had told him not too worry, yet Steve had decided that the patio needed relaying again.
Liz smiled to herself, whatever her mother thought, the one thing her husband couldn’t be accused of was settling for second best.
‘Actually, get us a beer’
Back in the kitchen, she noticed in the mirror that her hair was hanging down again. Liz tucked the rebellious lock behind her ear.
She had learnt early on that Steve liked everything in its place.