Sarah slammed down the phone with a sailor's curse. Her crimson gown flowed behind her in a silken wake as she flew downstairs.

''He picks today, of all days, to reconcile with the wife?!" She wailed in anguish and finished off the bottle of French wine. The table was set in Valentine chic, but the red lace hearts now mocked her.

She flung herself onto the couch and wept into the satin pillow. She threw it across the room knocking over the scented candle. The flames crept towards the lace curtains as Sarah passed out. Indignant, unloved and indeed, alone.