She smiled at him then, in the glow of the dying fire, and he smiled back, a smile that seemed to warm her bones from the inside.

When the fire had burned down to embers and daylight had given itself over to darkness, they cleared away the remains and headed back up to the café. Annie felt excited at having laid her cards out on the table and having John promise to give them consideration. She couldn’t ask for more than that. And on top of this there was a rush of exhilaration from this slow, delicious way in which they were unfolding their life histories to one another. After each encounter Annie found herself greedy for more.

Chapter 62

Annie put on some of Django Reinhardt’s uplifting jazz and turned the volume up, for an energy boost while she and John set to clearing down the café. Annie filled a couple of bread rolls with ham, cheese, and red onion chutney and wrapped them up ready for Alfred’s supper. John pushed the tables to the sides of the room and stacked the chairs on top of them and began to sweep the floor.

The sound of jaunty violins signaled the beginning to the track “Minor Swing,” and Annie called out, “I love this one!” above the boom of the double bass and the tickle of acoustic guitar. She wiggled to the music as she wiped down the wooden countertop. She looked up to see John coming toward her, his eyes on hers, his broom left to rest against a table. He extended his hand over the counter, and Annie took it, coming around to the other side to join him.

“What are you doing?” She laughed.

John didn’t speak but led her to the middle of the floor and, still holding one of her hands, he slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her to him. They began to move around the room to the music. Annie laughed and allowed herself to be inexpertly twirled around the makeshift dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers—but it didn’t matter. They laughed and stumbled and stepped on each other’s toes as they danced and whirled around the empty café. His arms felt solid around her and she knew instinctively that he wouldn’t let her fall. He smiled wickedly as he twirled her out away from him and then pulled her back quickly so that their bodies rammed together. Annie shrieked out a giggle and when she looked up at John, he was smiling with such warmth that his whole face seemed lit up from within those deep blue eyes. Annie’s breath caught in her throat, but she recovered herself.

When “Minor Swing” gave way to a more chilled track, they slowed to a sway. They were still in each other’s arms, slightly breathless, still smiling. For a moment they remained like that, mid-embrace, looking into each other’s eyes.