The rain was relentless with the wind slanting the wet streams sideways. Penelope’s umbrella was of little value as she rushed across the street to the café. Markus was inside. He smiled as she approached.

“I feel like a drowned rat. Probably look like one too,” she said sliding into the bench beside him. She offered her cheek and he kissed it.

“But you’re a lovely drowned rat.” She smelled lovely with a scent he couldn’t determine.

“That’s heartening.” She looked at Markus who seemed to have escaped the wet. “When did you get here? You’re dry.”

“My colleague dropped me off at the door.”

“How are you getting home?”

“That’s where you come in. Drink?”

Over drink...

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