We could stop for a coffee, or plough on to the hotel.

But when Boshy's ill-spelt, hopeful letters came, her heart charged her unsparingly, though her carefully school-dictated replies to him were destined to contain no hint of failure.

I don't care about your stupid party anyway, so yah boo to you.

Okay, short stuff, he said upon reaching the kitchen table where they'd started. Time for bed. You too, Grace.