Will was rolling pastry when Eva arrived with his socks in a bag.
“They've been washed,” she said.
“You kept them one night.”
“They deserved a fresh start.”
He nodded towards the clear end of the worktop. She put the bag there and stayed standing.
“I want you to come tonight as my date.”
Will's rolling pin stopped.
“Because Ben will be there.”
“Partly.”
“What's the other part?”
She had practised this, too. “I like being with you.”
He looked at her for a moment, then down at the pastry.
“That's a lovely second place.”
“I know it's unfair.”
“That doesn't make it fairer.”
Eva picked at the edge of the bag. “You can say no.”
“I know I can.”
She hadn't expected him to be angry. Not exactly angry; hurt, under the dryness. She had imagined him being so pleased with the invitation that the reason wouldn't matter.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have assumed.”
He put the rolling pin down.
“Do you want to spend the whole evening checking his face?”
“Probably some of it.”
Will laughed despite himself. It wasn't the warm laugh from yesterday.
“You're a terrible saleswoman.”
“It's before eight.”
He brushed flour off his hands. “I want to go out with you, Eva. I still do. That hasn't suddenly become a joke because Ben's gone.”
She could feel her own face warming.
“I know.”
“No pretending we've been together for months. No photograph for his benefit.”
“All right.”
“And if anything changes for you, tell me.”
“I will.”
He looked at her until she looked back.
“I'm saying yes to an evening,” he said.
She smiled. She couldn't help it. That was what she'd wanted, and she wasn't going to dress it up as something nicer.
“Wear the yellow socks.”
“You've got an odd idea of seduction.”
“Apparently so do you.”
He lifted his eyebrows. She thought of the dinner two years ago, the hopeless timing, and laughed. This time he laughed with her.
After work he came to her flat to walk down with her. Eva had nearly asked him to meet outside, then decided she didn't want to stand alone at her own front door waiting for another man to turn up.
Will had changed into a dark shirt. She hadn't seen it before. He smelled faintly of soap instead of the kitchen.
“You look nice,” she said.
“An alarming amount of effort went into it.”
“Really?”
“I picked the shirt with no visible food.”
She looked at his collar. He looked down too.
“Don't,” he said.
“Your face has,” she answered, and he smiled at yesterday's joke coming back.
She had worn trousers and a cream top. The green dress could stay in the wardrobe tonight. She picked up her jacket and found herself standing very close to him in the little hall.
“How does this work?” she asked.
“Usually we leave the building.”
“I mean at the harbour.”
Will reached past her to move the jacket strap off the door handle. His arm brushed her shoulder. She smelled the soap again.
“We walk. We get something to eat. You laugh at at least one of my jokes.”
“One?”
“I'm pacing myself.”
She looked up at him. For a moment the horrible blue suitcase and the empty wardrobe weren't the largest things in the flat.
Then she thought of Ben seeing them, and the other part of her excitement returned.
“Ready?” Will asked.
Eva took his arm because that was what she wanted Ben to see. By the time they reached the bottom step, she liked the weight of it under her hand.