‘Yeah, I think so. A long time ago. The neighbour told me.’

‘It must have been empty for a long time?’

‘Yeah, I’ve no idea how long, but probably several years.’ She closed her eyes and put her hand on her forehead.

‘Do you have a fever?’ I asked.

‘No, I’m just really tired. We smoked a little yesterday; I hardly remember anything. And I slept terribly.’

I nodded. It was quiet between us again, and at once the image of her in my bed returned, her grey face and warm body so close to mine. Carral yawned and stared down into her book. Her index finger stroked the cover, traced the edges around the sketched full moon in circles. My palms were sweating.

‘Is it a good book?’ I asked.

‘Well, it’s trash,’ she answered. ‘But I need it.’

‘Trash can be fun.’

‘Yeah, but it’s a little sad when I think about how I used to read lots of challenging, gloomy books, proper books … And now wolves, mystical powers and love is all that matters to me.’ She smiled sleepily and held the book up with the cover towards me, and continued: ‘Jo … I’m sorry if I said anything stupid yesterday. I didn’t mean to call you young and innocent.’

‘It’s fine. I mean, I am. And that’s pretty funny.’

‘But actually you’re really mature. I heard you dodged the manager.’

‘He thought I was a lesbian. He asked me if I’d ever been with … a man.’ I could feel my face getting hot just by repeating it.

‘I’m sorry you had to meet him like that. He was really drunk. But I heard you handled it well.’

‘Yeah. But it was gross. He’s right though. I’ve never …’ My voice became faint. But Carral smiled, leant over the table and put her hands on my shoulders.

‘You haven’t? Blimey, a virgin! I didn’t know.’

I looked down. She sat down again and continued:

‘But Jo, that’s not a problem! That’s nothing. We’ll find someone for you.’

‘Oh no, please don’t. Definitely not someone from your work.’

Carral laughed. For a moment she looked almost well. She put her hand over her heart. ‘I promise.’

I felt relieved and went to pack up my books. Behind me I heard Carral go up the stairs to the living room. Apparently, she was not working today. When I yelled to say goodbye, she didn’t answer. I could see her back leant against the railing, slumped over her book up on the mezzanine. Then I opened the door and took a deep breath, felt the whole great white sky fill my mouth.

Franziska met me at the uni pub after the seminar that day.

‘A brewery!’ she said.

‘Yeah, I wonder how old it is.’

‘I went on a tour of the breweries the day I got here. Brew of the Bourne.’