At 6.40am when I dragged myself out of a warm dream, there was a heavy frost on the world outside.
As I supped my morning coffee in my reading chair, there was a tinge of regret at having agreed to go running again this morning with the no doubt suntanned Nick, freshly returned from Oman.
There was a rush of joy then when I received his blow-out text a few minutes later.
But don’t tell him yet… let him wallow in the guilt of crying off for a while longer!