Muriel stood and listened as George did what her granddaughter would have described as 'going off on one', feeling a mix of concern and irritation and what might have been a faint niggling of guilt as he spoke. Where each of those things came from, she couldn't say for sure, but she dismissed George's suggestion that he should leave with a wave of the hand, was about to tell him not to be silly when he seemed to decide that for himself.
Her steps felt tentative as she rounded the settee and settled down beside him. Their knees touched as she half-turned to face him and she liked that, liked feeling the heat radiating off him. She stretched an arm across the back of the cushions as though to touch him, but hesitated, curling her fingers at the last moment.
Taking a sip of her drink, she studied him, just sat with him in silence for a moment before she spoke again. "You seem to be having a lot of 'those days' recently."