He wasn't there. It was exactly 5.30pm and he was nowhere to be seen. So I began to walk. And walk and walk and walk. Eventually, the glare of the headlights caught me like the proverbial rabbit and he must have realised his fate, when he saw mascara running down my face, hair plastered to my head and the useless brolly, pathetic at my side.
A mug of tea has been made, a bath is being run and a contrite husband looks forward to being forgiven. Goodnight.