Grace yanked at the sheet, but it was anchored. Tiggy lay curled in the middle of the bed. Peter lay flat on his stomach, a construction crew jack hammering in his throat. There seemed to be some collusion between them. First Peter falls asleep, tosses and turns so much that the sheets slip away from her side of the bed. Once that is done, Tiggy plonks her fat arse down and will now refuse to move.
This is new, this conspiracy against her. It only began once she became pregnant. Tiggy somehow knew before she did, for this behaviour began a couple of weeks before she missed her period.
When it was still hot, she didn't mind. Her skin crawled with heat, so she needed the fan whispering cool promises. Grace thinks this condoned Tiggy's place on the bed. But now that autumn has blown in, with the wind now coming from the south, she needs the warmth. It is now as if all her heat is building deep inside her, leaving her skin cold to the touch.
Determined to not sleep on the couch, Grace tempts Tiggy with the smell of a piece of Peter's cabana. It almost makes her gag, so she holds it as far from her as possible.
The sleeping dog's nose twitches at the smell and then an eye opens. Tiggy snatches at the meat, but Grace is ready for that and pulls back. In the pantomime, Grace makes it clear Tiggy can have it if she gets off the bed.
Tiggy gives it some thought and decides it isn't worth it. She curls her head deeper into the folds of her rounded hind legs, as if shielding herself from temptation.