‘Well, he spun me some line about it being his office or something. But, obviously, I knew. I mean, it had a bed.’

‘Slow down, Sherlock Holmes.’ He grinned and picked up his half-eaten slice of pizza again.

She mirrored him, relieved, then refilled both of their water glasses, and took a gulp. She kicked him under the table by mistake, and looked stricken, but he raised his eyebrows and she relaxed again.

‘I’m drunk,’ Ben pronounced, twenty minutes or so later, as the waiter cleared their plates. ‘But I want another drink.’

‘I’m drunk too.’ She was; she felt mischievous and spontaneous. They’d been there for almost two hours – and the plan was inevitable, in every shared expression and gesture.

‘Are they closing up yet, do you reckon? Or can I get one more?’

She cast around. There were still several other occupied tables, people waving wine glasses and savouring spoonfuls of tiramisu. ‘Let’s try and get another drink,’ she agreed.

‘Excellent,’ Ben said. He conjured the waiter with a lazy wave. ‘Excuse me, are you still serving?’

The teen grunted in assent.

‘Can I get a Negroni and –’ Ben cocked an eyebrow expectantly at her.

‘I’ll have the same.’

The waiter slunk towards the bar. The pause seemed to make them both self-conscious, and for a few minutes it was a little stop-start, their conversation punctuated by exchanges of shy twinkles through eyelashes.

Their drinks arrived a few minutes later, with the bill.

‘Point taken,’ Ben whispered, conspiratorially. He took a sip of his Negroni, shook it so the ice cubes rattled, and smacked his lips. ‘This is potent.’

In response she took a sip of her own drink, reeling slightly at the bitterness. Her mind had started to wander ahead, to the next stage of the evening. She hated waking up in strange beds, visiting strange bathrooms and encountering other people’s strange housemates. She hated wiping crusty mascara from under her eyes with a waterlogged, balled-up tissue (she knew he lived with three other boys, so there’d be no toiletries to freeload in the bathroom).

And so, when they had split the bill, bid their terse waiter farewell and stepped into the crisp darkness outside – Ben stumbling ever so slightly – she took the initiative.

‘So I’m going this way now –’ she said, pointing towards the bus stop and looking up to meet his direct gaze. In the low glimmer of the street lights he looked like he was carved from stone.

He stepped towards her. ‘Can I come too?’

And then he was so close she could feel the heat from his body. He leaned in, wrapping her in his coat, and he kissed her deeply. When they finished, she peeked up at him with a light grin.

‘I suppose so.’