‘It’s the truth,’ he said, pulling apart from her. He took her hand and they sat on the sofa, knees knocking and hands entwined.

‘We’re so good together, Penny. I think you’ve been fighting it because of what you saw, but what you saw was nothing. It was a mistake.’

He kept stroking her hand.

‘This is how it is supposed to be. You and me. You have to feel it too. This is what it feels like when it’s good.’

Penny started to cry. She cried for Mo for hurting her, which was boring but no less true because of it. She cried for Uncle David – in fear that he’d been sick, and in relief that he was getting better, and in anger that he’d put her here, away from her friends and in the middle of all these men. She cried because she was tired, and because she wanted Francesco to be enough – for it to be safe to truly love him, but it wasn’t. Was it? Could it be? What was the worst that could happen?

She crumpled into him and felt the weight of his hand at the back of her neck, and the rise and fall of him. Pulling her head back slightly, he looked at her, and she looked at him, and he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, which she gratefully accepted.

They looked at each other again and he gave her an equally-chaste kiss on her lips, just briefly.

They looked at each other some more and Penny stopped thinking and pressed her mouth to his and the length of her body to the length of his body. She melted into him and he surrendered into her and it was pure and beautiful and had been such a long time coming. Penny didn’t have to think when they were like this. It felt pre-destined and safe. Her tongue explored his mouth and her hands ran the length of his body and even if she couldn’t say she loved him, it felt a lot like love.

‘We need to go down for service,’ Francesco said, after a while. ‘I don’t want to, but …’

‘I don’t want you to let go,’ Penny said.

‘Two more minutes,’ he replied, holding her tightly.

‘I need an emergency pep talk,’ Penny hissed at Charlie. ‘Something happened.’

Charlie looked up from where they were polishing glasses behind the bar.

‘Good happened, or help-me-bury-the-body happened?’

‘Help me bury the body. No. Good. No, bad. I don’t know.’

Charlie put down the glass and cloth. ‘Aw shit,’ they said. ‘Okay. Tea?’

Penny nodded, and they moved through to the kitchen, threw a couple of tea bags in some mugs and filled them from the tap that gave out boiling water from the coffee machine, before reconvening in the bar.

‘I kissed Francesco,’ Penny said.