“It was just my aunt,” he said unnecessarily, waving the phone as if to confirm it was via that medium that he had spoken to her, as opposed to setting smoke signals on the beach.

“I guessed as much,” said Annie.

She was suddenly shy. She didn’t know what to do next. She’d been caught up in the moment and let her passions loose, but now her wits had returned, and all the sensible reasons as to why it would be unwise to shag your landlady’s nephew came flooding back to her. John’s expression revealed that he too was wrestling with a similar dilemma.

John cleared his throat loudly and rubbed his hands together. Annie swung her arms back and forth, to what end she didn’t quite know; she realized she probably looked deranged and clasped one hand in the other in order to stop herself from moving. John threw his arms up in an exaggerated stretch and cleared his throat again.

“Lovely marshmallows,” Annie gushed, as though they’d just come back in from eating them and the whole foreplay-on-the-dance-floor thing hadn’t happened at all.

“Thanks,” said John, fully embracing this line of conversation. “I bought them in a shop . . .” He trailed off and then came back with, “I really should make a move. I’ve got a breakfast meeting with a client . . .”

“Oh, absolutely. Thank you for helping me clear down. And for the marshmallows.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Right, then.”

“Right, then.”

“Okay, well, I’ll just go back and finish up.” She motioned to the sparkling clean counter area.

“I’ll head off,” said John, pointing exaggeratedly at the door, as if there might have been some question about him letting himself out of the window instead.

“Bye, then, have fun!” called Annie. Have fun? What the fuck? Why did I tell him to have fun? Annie’s brain shouted at her.

John frowned and cocked his head to one side. There was a crooked smile forming on his lips.

“Erm, yes,” he said. He stood looking at her for another long moment, his eyebrows knitted together, and then he said, “Bye, then. Have fun.” And he left the building.

Annie felt hot; she knew she was blushing furiously. She imagined herself running hard at the wall and knocking herself out; she was sure being unconscious would make her feel better at this point. She turned the volume up on the music in the hopes that it might drown out her mortified thoughts. Have fun indeed! Those words were going to haunt her for a long time.

—