It's over before she can react, though she does press back, a quiet exhalation of breath giving her away. Her eyes close and she turns back to the trolley, faffing about with her tea and the cloth napkins and the pyramid of biscuits.

'I thought we could, um, use some comfort food.'

She takes a handful and stacks them on a plate, balancing the plate on top of her mug. There's a flush of colour in her cheeks that wasn't there a moment ago, just the barest hint of roses.

And then she joins him, taking up a position opposite his end, her feet curled beneath her.