Dick and Daisy had been together a long time.

Their Golden Wedding Anniversary last year had been a huge cause for celebration.

They still loved each other. Of course they did. Not in exactly the same way as in the early years.

Their love had grown, evolved, become more complex. Multifaceted. Sometimes ambiguous?

They knew each other much better now. The lenses had fallen out of the rose-coloured spectacles.

The white heat of the two young lovers had cooled quite some time ago. Lust was a teasing memory.

But care, concern, compassion forged a bond stronger than steel. They looked out for each other.

Theirs was a childless marriage. The good Lord, in his wisdom, had withheld the blessing of fertility.

Neither partner had siblings. Their solitary status intensified their mutual interdependence.

Inevitably, this impacted the dynamic of their functional relationship. Could either one survive alone?

Tuesday was shopping day. This was no longer a fun event, an excuse for a day in the city. An opportunity to dress up smartly and treat themselves to lunch in Luigi's. It was a necessary evil.

Stock up for the week ahead. Seek out the bargain offers. Frugality, pragmatism trumped luxury.

Dick was still quite a confident driver. Perhaps the Porsche was a bit too lively for him, nowadays.

He would never admit that. Maybe his reaction times and his eyesight were not as sharp as they used to be. Hell, they were fine, weren't they?

Daisy was less convinced. She used to enjoy being a passenger. The Porsche's poke gave her a rush.

Not anymore. She was aware of Dick's fragility. Was he? He would never concede any vulnerability.

So, she accepted reluctantly, she had become a bit of a watchdog. A second pair of eyes and ears.

A nag? Surely not. But Dick, last week, in an uncharacteristic outburst, had levelled that accusation. The rebuke had been hurtful.

They were on the way home. Shopping completed. The atmosphere was tense. No words exchanged.

It was the cyclist's fault. Wasn't it? The athletic young man in Lycra had weaved ambitiously in front of the Porsche. But Dick should have reacted, even without her scream. He was slow to respond.

There had been an unpleasant scene. The unseated cyclist, only bruised, had called Dick the most disparaging names. Ageist abuse. Thank God he remounted and rode away without calling the Police.

She had been even more on edge after that incident. Dick pretended to be calm, but he was shaken.

Daisy had been extra-watchful until they arrived home, but decided to keep her helpful advice to herself. Dick had been bad-tempered, snappy.

*

What a day! Dick was rattled, nerves jangling. That idiot cyclist was lucky to be alive. If it hadn't been for Dick's lightning reactions he'd be a goner. And Daisy? Well! So much for loyalty. She seemed to have taken the side of that pedal-pushing prick. He would take himself upstairs, shower, change then come down to see what lunch, if any, might be available.

Twenty minutes later, Dick joined Daisy in the kitchen. She was already cooking something. Good!

He stood behind his wife and peered over her shoulder. He was still feeling resentful, unfairly treated.

Mmm. She was frying eggs.

"Careful!" he shouted. "CAREFUL! You need more butter! Yes, BUTTER! You'll burn the pan! MY GOD! Too many! You're cooking too many at once! BUTTER! We need more butter! They're going to stick together! GOD! Where will we get more butter! CAREFUL! I said CAREFUL! You never listen to me when you're cooking! NEVER! Hurry up! Turn them! TURN THEM! Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind? SALT THEM! You need to salt them! SALT! Get the salt! SALT!

Daisy glanced over her shoulder.

"What on earth is the matter with you?" she said. "Don't you think I know how to fry two eggs?"

Calmly, Dick replied, "I just thought you should know what it feels like when I'm driving!"