They finished dinner slowly and she made coffee afterward and they sat with it for another hour, and the conversation moved to easier territory — Luca coming to Bergamo tomorrow, something she'd been watching on television, a story about a neighbour she'd mentioned twice before but that he listened to as though he hadn't.
She didn't raise England again and he didn't either.
At half past nine she stood and collected the cups, and he helped her clear the table while the kitchen returned to its after-dinner state, and when they'd finished she touched his arm once in the hallway and said goodnight and went to bed.
He went to his old bedroom.
11:40 PM
