Theo woke on Friday with Mara's hair in his mouth and felt delighted before he worked out why he was coughing.
He lifted the damp strand away. She moved against him, grumbling, then put a hand on his chest as if the noise could be held there until she'd finished sleeping.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“Why are you talking?”
“Your hair's attacked.”
She opened one eye. “It knows you.”
He laughed, kissed her forehead and lay still. Her hand remained on his chest. Through the shutters there was already enough light to make the room morning, though he had no intention of telling her that yet.
The bed was wider than the one they'd had in Bristol. They'd used an unnecessarily small part of it. His foot found hers beneath the sheet, and she shifted her knee into a more comfortable place without opening the other eye.
He could have stayed for hours.
For years mornings had been a series of small things they did together without asking whether each deserved repeating. Coffee. A missing sock. Mara telling him something she'd dreamed, then complaining when he tried to make the dream obey practical conditions. He had loved all of that without needing a special week to show him how much.
Now there was only this morning. He stroked her arm, very lightly, and she turned toward him.
“You look awake,” she said.
“It's a temporary fault.”
“Go and make coffee.”
“An effective cure.”
“You can bring it back.”
He got up. She watched him, then laughed when he had to go around the bed to find the shorts he'd dropped on the wrong side. The laugh warmed him almost as much as her hand had.
In the kitchenette he filled the machine, put cups beneath it and found the bread they'd brought in last night. The plates still waited beside the sink. He washed them while the coffee made its small determined noise, then looked at the blue fish dish, empty now and apparently cross about it.
He put two pieces of fruit in the dish and carried it back with the cups.
“Breakfast in bed,” Mara said.
“A limited version.”
“The fish has views.”
“It's supervising.”
She sat up, pulled a pillow behind her back and accepted her coffee. He sat beside her, careful with his shoulder. She touched the red place, which had become pink enough to permit an optimistic assessment.
“Better.”
“Excellent medical care.”
“Terrible patient.”
They ate the fruit. Juice landed on the sheet, and Mara rubbed at it with the edge of the wrapping they'd used for the bread before realizing this was not improving anything. Theo took the paper away.
“Leave it.”
“It's a very expensive bed.”
“I think it's been fed before.”
She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder, the unburned one. He put an arm around her. Neither finished the coffee quickly.
Eventually she said she was meeting Leah for breakfast.
“You're already having it.”
“We're calling it breakfast. There may be something more substantial than a disappointed fish.”
“I'll have to improve tomorrow.”
She glanced up. He had said it easily, before he remembered tomorrow was Saturday, before the word became anything she might need to answer.
“You can try,” she said.
He smiled. She went to shower and he remained in the bed long enough to begin imagining another morning after Sunday, a quiet resort with most of their guests gone, coffee carried through an open bedroom door. He could see it so clearly that it seemed briefly like a booked fact rather than something Mara had never offered him.
When she came out, she was wearing the first dress she found and fastening an earring while looking for the other one. He found it on the table beside her hair clip.
“Here.”
“Thank you.”
She stood close while he put it in her palm. Then she kissed him, not absent-mindedly, and he had to close his hand on the table to remain where she left him.
“See you later,” she said.
“Photographs.”
“Yes. We'll be appalling.”
“Professionally.”
She went. He heard the gate close, then her voice greeting somebody on the path. He took the cups back to the kitchen and stood at the sink, looking at the place she'd left the scarf.
At reception Elena was speaking to another guest about a room key. Theo waited. The lobby was already busy with people arriving for the weekend, suitcases rolling across the smooth floor, somebody lifting a child out of a pushchair and immediately being asked to put her back. The wedding had acquired more of its audience. Saturday was coming whether he wanted it or not.
Elena smiled when she finished.
“Everything all right?”
“Yes. Very.”
She waited. Theo glanced toward the open terrace, then back at her.
“Could I keep the villa for Sunday night?”
“One extra night?”
“Yes. Just the one.”
She checked the screen in front of her. He could hear the little taps of the keyboard. Somewhere behind him a guest asked whether breakfast was still being served. A staff member answered. The noise made his question seem like an ordinary thing people did with holidays, and for a moment he was grateful not to have to explain himself.
“It is available,” Elena said. “I can tell you the cost.”
He nodded.
The amount was more than he wanted to spend and less than he wanted the morning to be over. He looked at it, remembered the chair he hadn't bought for the rental and the daybed he'd refused to exchange for a separate room, then took his card out.
“I'll pay now.”
“Your original departure is Sunday?”
“Yes. We haven't changed the flights.”
“All right. This is just the room.”
“Just the room. We’d have to find new flights if we stayed.”
She put the booking through. He could have said he'd discuss it with Mara first. He could have kept the offer available as a question rather than something paid for. But then he would have needed to ask before he knew how to survive her answer, and he was not ready to let breakfast become the last example of what might still happen.
He entered the number on the card machine. It accepted him with a small sound.
Elena said she would send the confirmation. He thanked her.
As he turned away, he saw Sue coming into the lobby with Aunt Janette. His mother was holding a garment bag which he recognized from the visit when she refused to show anybody what it contained without the right shoes available.
“I've got a question about tomorrow,” she said.
Theo looked at the bag, then at his phone, where the confirmation had arrived.
“Can it wait?”
“Certainly. What have you been doing?”
“Reception.”
She tilted her head. “I can see.”
“I've extended the villa.”
He watched her face change. It was immediate and pleased, and he knew before she said anything that he'd given her much more than a piece of travel information.
“Have you?”
“One night. Sunday.”
“Oh.”
Aunt Janette looked at the garment bag. Sue drew it closer to herself, still smiling at him.
“We'll talk later,” she said. “Let you get on.”
Theo nodded. He could have answered the smile. Instead he let them go past him toward the desk.
Outside, the terrace was full of people eating. He found a small table at one edge, ordered more coffee and opened the confirmation properly. One extra night, after their original checkout. Their flight home still appeared in another message with Sunday's date. Mara had not agreed to change anything.
He looked toward the path where she'd gone to breakfast with Leah. He knew what she would ask if he told her now. Why Sunday? What did he want it to mean? He would have to say he wanted more time, and she would know there was more inside that than a room.
He put the phone down when the coffee came.
For a little while it could remain a night he had bought, a door he had not yet opened for anyone else. He sat in the shade, still carrying the smell of her shampoo on his skin, and drank before the cup could get cold.