She'd always come running when I called. At first I only called her when I really needed her, but after a while whether I needed her or not didn't matter; I started to call her just because I could. I didn't realise I was doing it until she called me on it one morning. I'd woken up at 5am and the first thought in my mind had been her, the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her. It hadn't occurred to me that she might still be asleep and that she might not appreciate me calling her up and asking her to come over when it was still dark outside and still icy on the roads.

'You've got to stop this,' she said, her voice tired, a sigh barely hidden by a yawn.

'Stop what?'

'Demanding.'

'I didn't demand. I asked.'

'No, you demanded. "Come over," is a demand.'