‘As opposed to an Englishman in New York?’ I say smiling, referring to the song that Leon loves to have blaring when he makes us pancakes on a Sunday morning. Though thinking about it now, I can’t remember the last time he did that.

‘Exactly,’ laughs Jacob, catching on to the reference. ‘That doesn’t happen by accident, surely.’

I shrug my shoulders, seemingly no better prepared with a story than I was twenty years ago.

‘So, what brought you over here?’ he pushes, bringing me perilously close to the edge of my comfort zone.

‘Leon, mainly,’ I say. ‘I met him in New York seventeen years ago and when he came back to England, I came with him.’

‘So you fell in love and left your old life behind?’ Jacob probes.

‘Something like that,’ I say cagily.

‘He’s a lucky man,’ he says.

I can tell by the lengthening of his consonants and the slur of his vowels that the whisky is beginning to turn him into someone he wouldn’t normally be. I’ve spent my life actively avoiding people like him, so I’m not going to sit here and watch as the alcohol loosens his propriety, likely setting off a chain of events we’re unable to come back from.

‘I really should get going,’ I say, stepping off my bar stool. ‘He’ll be wondering where I am.’

‘Stay,’ says Jacob, his mouth close to my ear.

Despite myself, my nerve endings catch fire, making my fingertips tingle. ‘I . . . can’t,’ I say, unable to believe how difficult it is to refuse his request. ‘I really can’t.’

‘Please,’ he begs, his blue eyes boring into mine. ‘Stay with me tonight.’

The way he says it and looks at me leaves no room for doubt. I cough as I struggle to compose myself, stalling for time.

‘It wouldn’t be a good idea,’ I say, though I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if I did. I imagine his fingers trailing down my cheek before he gently kisses my neck; his soft beard setting my skin alight.

The thought of showing him how sex is supposed to feel, rather than the torturous ordeal he’s grown accustomed to, makes me giddy with delirium. I picture my hand on his as I gently guide him to where it needs to be. I can see the look on his face as he realizes for the first time how it feels to make love for the pure joy of it, without recrimination or punishment.

‘Just for a little while,’ he says, as his fingers intertwine with mine, sending a pulse of electricity through me. ‘I just want to hold you.’