Another sob shook her, interrupted her. Despite the nod, I was sure it would be a no, but I had to offer.

‘Er… yes. I’d like that.’ She looked down at herself, then back up at my surprised smile and was suddenly brighter, optimistic, transformed. ‘Not like this! I’ll nip and get some clothes on. Get the coffees in – I’ll be two minutes.’

I sat there, cup in hand, elbows on the table, staring forwards at nothing in particular. Quite a few of the staff were passing through here too, recharging, refuelling, all looking tired, washed-out. She wasn’t coming. I swallowed the bitter dregs and prepared to leave. A stunningly beautiful young woman strode confidently in through the swinging doors – wavy, almost curly black hair, tight blue jeans, her white cropped tube top accentuating her golden tan. The scanty top displayed a fair amount of her lovely curved belly and only semi-hid a pair of deliciously pert breasts. Her face was symmetrical, tanned, lightly freckled and her eyes were like dark honey. She headed towards me, smiling with brilliant white teeth.

The bedlam of carnal thoughts that crowded my head with her entrance dispersed and my instant physical reaction to her appearance started to deflate as I realised who she was. I stood and beckoned her to sit.

‘Wow! It’s you. Scrub up well, don’t you!’ and we both laughed at the hospital joke. Was this really the girl from the stairwell? ‘You look amazing. I can’t believe you… you’re… I can’t believe…’

‘No. Well, yes… No. I can’t believe it’s you. You look so much older… with your clothes on,’ and I pulled a fake embarrassed sort of face and she smiled again. I quickly queued for fresh coffees then sat down opposite her at the small, round, fake-pine table. We looked appraisingly at each other.

‘Cheeky! So much older? I’m nineteen… well, in two weeks.’ Then she bit her lip, looked down into the steaming cup and froze. She looked in pain. I rested my hand on her bare arm, hopefully transmitting both my concern and my patience in this one touch. We were silent for two or three minutes, then she pinched the bridge of her perfect nose and spoke as if she’d just remembered something. ‘Regina!’ She looked up quickly, her smile rebuilt, hand held out over the tabletop.

‘Sorry? Oh… sorry. I’m Adam.’ I shook her hand. It was very much alive. I surprised myself by raising it to my lips and kissing its smooth, vibrant skin.

‘You are a gentleman, Adam.’ And she gently pulled my hand to her mouth too and pecked the back of it with her very soft, succulent lips, her eyes laughing all the while. ‘Thanks for taking the time back