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My wife and I often spend the weekend at a beach house belonging to some friends of ours, Jess and Tammy. They only go there themselves about once a month and let us use it whenever we want. I always love going there because it's so peaceful. The back entrance to the house leads straight on to the sandy beach, which is usually deserted as there are no facilities around for miles. Jenny, my wife, finds it a little boring for her tastes, but doesn't mind indulging me once in a while.

The last time we went there, I drove us down on the Friday night. We got there quite late, and couldn't really go out anywhere so we stayed indoors. I opened a bottle of whiskey and we drank and talked and laughed as we watched the sky darken over the horizon out to sea. I don't remember much of the evening, but when I woke up my eyes were bleary and there was a pounding in my head that just wouldn't stop. When my eyes came more into focus, I could just about make out Jenny standing at the end of the bed and looking out the window.

"Back in the land of the living, are we?" she asked me, grinning unsympathetically.

"What time is it?" I groaned.

"It's eleven o'clock. How's your head?"

"Terrible. What are you doing?" I asked her. ...

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