A wholly inappropriate bolt of desire shot through me, so much so that I had to turn back to the stove and make myself concentrate on stirring for a moment or two. I realized then how much I had missed her. I missed the smell of her, the feel of her skin, her voice. The last weeks had been so strange, it felt like all we had done lately was dodge incoming missiles.

‘Can you manage a bit of soup?’ I said.

She came up behind me on silent feet, taking me by surprise, then wrapped her arms around my waist and held on tightly, leaning her head against my back. I could feel her breasts soft against one and I closed my eyes for a moment. Then, to my surprised pleasure, her hand snaked down and began to undo my zip.

‘Ah, you noticed then,’ I said in a slightly strangled voice, but she shushed me as she took me in her cool, soft hand, making me gasp.

I turned, dropping the wooden spoon into the soup pan and taking hold of her face, hungrily finding her lips.

‘Are you sure you’re well enough?’ But it was a moot point because she was leading me towards the edge of the kitchen table, where she jumped up and then pulled me into her.

Even the smell of burning soup wasn’t a deterrent and for the next few minutes we were lost.

Afterwards she rested her forehead against mine and we both started laughing.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she said.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I said.

I was happy that she accepted a bowl of soup and we sat together in the kitchen and began to eat. It was dusk now. I had put on just the under-lights of the cupboards, so the room felt cosy.

‘I was scared when you didn’t come home last night,’ she said, her head lowered towards her bowl. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’

I reached over and grabbed hold of her hand. When she looked up at me I expected to see that she was tearful again but her eyes were dry.

‘It was just a shock, Anya,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t understand why you hadn’t told me any of this. It …’ I shrugged and ate another spoonful of soup. ‘Well, it hurt, to be honest. I felt really excluded. That you didn’t trust me.’

Her spoon clanged in the bowl as she dropped it.

‘It was not that I didn’t trust you,’ she said. ‘You have to believe that.’ She seemed to suck in her breath, and her eyes lowered. Then she met mine.