Cosseted in a cocoon of a quilt, Tina Ricci squints sleepily at the half-open bedroom door.
Tom finishes sneaking in. 'Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.'
She struggles to speak. 'Errrm – hi. I kinda thought you'd gone.'
He moves gingerly towards the bed. 'I didn't think I was supposed to.'
'You're not.' Then in an instant she finds herself defensively adding: 'Not unless you want to, that is.'
'I don't.'
'Then come back here.' She pats the cool side of the mattress. 'Give me a chance to show you the real meaning of Morning Service.'
Tom lifts a crumpled brown bag. 'I bought coffee and croissants. A small repayment for lunch yesterday.'
'Great.' She straightens the pillows and sits up a little. 'But I warn you, I'm famished. We missed dinner – and burned off a lot of calories – so I'm gonna need more than you've got there.'
'Understood.' Tom takes out the coffees, rips open the bag of croissants and spreads the paper to catch crumbs. His face gives away that he's going to awkwardly switch subjects and say something about last night. 'Listen, I'm really new to all this, so please forgive me if I'm very awkward and say all the wrong things.' He looks embarrassed. 'Or more likely, don't say the things that I should.'
She takes a coffee from him. 'Tom, there are no rules. Just say what you want – anything you feel like saying.'
Right now, saying what he feels turns out to be harder than he ever imagined it would be. 'Okay. Then help me out here. How do you feel?'
'I think you're sweet.' She pauses, then adds, 'And special. Not because you used to be a priest and we fucked.' She looks horrified. 'Sorry! I didn't mean to say fucked, I mean-' Now she looks embarrassed. 'Listen, you're special because you're a good guy. An honest guy. A nice guy. And I think it must be quite something to get to know you – really know you.'
He looks tense. 'Thanks, I hope we get the time to do that.'
'And you?' There's a hint of mischief in her eyes. 'You don't get out of answering that easy. What do you feel?'
The sun is blazing outside the window. He can hear Italian voices laughing and chattering on the street below. The world seems perfect. 'Complete,' he finally answers. 'You make me feel wonderfully complete.'