There was a slur in his voice. A delay between brain and mouth. ‘Joe, are you—?’

‘You stopped wearing it,’ he said.

‘What’s that?’

He reached for her arm, circled her wrist with his hand and moved his thumb over the pale strip of skin. His hand was cool. She felt the desire in him and it unsettled her. She’d started this and she didn’t want it now she had it. There were names for women like her.

‘Your watch,’ he said.

‘It wouldn’t start again after I wore it in the water.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘Should’ve taken more care of it.’

He kissed the inside of her wrist. ‘You were beautiful in the water that day,’ he said. ‘You know how to lift a man when he’s down.’

She let her arm hang heavy and he dropped it. ‘You sure you don’t want coffee?’

‘Not right now.’ He pulled her closer against him. ‘How can I go back to England, when you’re here?’

He kissed her. He tasted metallic, of beer and cigarettes. She stood rigidly before him as he lifted her blouse.

‘I think I could make you happy,’ he said. ‘We could make each other happy.’

‘Let’s take things slowly,’ she said, but he didn’t seem to hear her. He held one hand between her legs, moved his fingers over the seam of her jeans. She tried to want him, to go with it, but she didn’t like the smell coming off him. Alcohol and stale sweat. She’d liked the buzzcut and the suit.

‘Let’s go to bed.’ He kissed her neck.

‘Joe, I—’ She twisted away from him, involuntarily. ‘Steve might come home.’

‘What?’ His hand was inside her bra.

‘He’s only gone down to Bridge Street. He’ll be back soon.’

He pulled back. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘I thought you wanted to talk. About Isla.’

She pulled her blouse down and he freed his hand, after a pause. ‘You should have said earlier.’

‘Sorry.’

He stood, and his balance almost went. He was drunk, then. Maybe half drunk, half hungover. Her eldest brother had gone this way with the grog: drinking in the mornings to stop the shakes. There’d been no helping him.

‘Why isn’t he at work?’

‘He quit.’ She took a step back from him. ‘He got to the end of the road with the job. Stuck at it longer than he should have.’

‘Sounds like a good decision.’

‘You should go.’ She took a step towards the door.

His eyes moved over her. The ceiling fan droned overhead.

‘I don’t want him to find you here, Joe.’

‘I’ve been thinking. Since my hand’s so much better, I might like to have another word with your husband. Might be a fairer fight this time round.’

She forced a small laugh. ‘Don’t be an idiot.’

He looked at her. ‘You reckon I’m an idiot,’ he said.

‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘My wife thinks I’m an idiot. And now you think so too.’

‘Joe, all I meant was—’