George had had an accident. He had dropped his hot chocolate all over the living-room carpet and had spent the best part of an hour cleaning it. He had gone to the shed and got the Bex Bissel, starting to clean the carpet. Then the patch where the stain had been looked cleaner than the rest and he had ended up cleaning the whole carpet. Now, three hours later, he was finally finished and he was wondering if he still had time to watch his film when he heard the low throb of a taxi. He looked through the curtains as Elaine paid the man clumsily. She was as drunk as a lord.

The bloody bitch!

He watched her lurch from the taxi, clutching her bag, and trying to walk up the cement pathway to the front door. He could hear her fumbling for her keys and trying to place them in the lock. Everything seemed magnified a thousand times. The front door banged open and he heard her heavy footfalls approaching the lounge. He sat on an armchair waiting for her to come into the room, but she passed by it and made her way into the kitchen.

He heard the click of the fluorescent lights and her heels clattering on the linoleum, then he grimaced as he heard her retch into the spotlessly clean sink.

He stood up slowly and followed her. Standing in the doorway, he watched her back and shoulders heaving as she brought up port and brandy into the white sink.

He walked to her.

He saw the deep red stains in the sink like clotted blood and turned on the cold tap. He watched mesmerised as the stain became a light pink before swirling around and down the plug into the sewer.

Picking up a tea towel, he soaked it in cold water and placed it on Elaine’s forehead. Then, holding the back of her neck tightly as she tried to push him away, he brought the sopping wet cloth down over her nose and mouth and pushed with all his might.

Elaine breathed in and felt the tiny droplets of water enter her nasal canal and burn as she breathed them inside. She tried to move her head and felt the vice-like grip of George’s hand on the back of her neck.

She began to struggle as she realised through her drink-fuddled brain just what was going on.

George held the tea towel over her face, enjoying her panic, enjoying the pain and terror he was creating. This would teach her.

In her struggle Elaine knocked the mug rack by the sink flying on to the floor. The smashing mugs bounced and shattered, making a tremendous noise as the flying shards reached every corner of the kitchen.