The conversation they just had melts away. The nightmare of today fades to black. This whole awful year - doesn’t matter. She’s holding his hand, she’s pressed against him, her mouth is an inch from his cheek. And she’s looking at him. He glances at her, then away. But he can’t help looking back, and she’s still there. She’s leaning in so close he can feel her breath on his neck - and then their eyes catch, and he can’t look away.

He doesn’t know what to do with the tension. He’s always backed away from emotional stuff, and he doesn’t know how he should act here. So he does what he always does.

‘You got any Herb Alpert?’