Helen reached out for the sandwich, every muscle in her arm tensing with the effort of it. Even now, committed as she was to the plan, she wasn’t sure she could do it. The distance from the sofa to the table might simply be too great. Even if she managed to stretch her already aching arm far enough to touch the sandwich, could she get it off the table and securely into her grip? It was too late to back down now.
She took a deep breath and lunged forward. For a moment, her hand grasped at empty air and she felt the vertiginous pull of the hard wooden floor a full foot, maybe two, below. Then, just as panic was beginning to set in, she felt the soft, crumby sensation of bread under her fingers. This was it! Now she just had to hang on long enough to get it to her waiting mouth and the cheesy, buttery, wholemeal taste of victory would be hers.