Chapter 8

Your wolf like ways so oft recurring

In my mind like mourning doves.

Lillia Talts Morrison.

The next few days passed in a blur for Annie. Work was as busy as usual and if she wanted any free time at the weekend then she was going to have to mark the finished assignments that had been submitted early. She would stay up late each night trying to get as far ahead as she could, it was better than sleeping anyway as she was still dreaming of Hugh every time she closed her eyes. Still, even though she felt tired, she was still happier than she had felt in ages, to the point that even her colleagues had noticed. By Wednesday night, Annie was already deciding what she was going to wear to dinner and she had managed to book a table at a little French restaurant by the river that she was particularly fond of.

Amelie phoned that evening to see how Annie and Sabine were doing.

“I’m fine Amelie, really I am. Erm...while we are chatting, did you give anyone my address when we were at Aimeé’s