Aftermath

sorry.”
    “You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” he said, sounding shocked and yet surprisingly honest. “It was me. I can be a real dick at times. I kind of forget myself sometimes, you know, especially with all this shit going on around us.”
    “I know.”
    “So you don’t need to apologize. Okay?”
    “Okay. Thanks.”
    She watched him watching her. Poor dumb bugger didn’t have a clue what to say next. He could talk the talk when it mattered, boring everyone senseless with stories about his irrelevant fifteen minutes (more like fifteen seconds) of fame on TV last year, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box by any means. Lorna knew that Ainsworth wanted her—she’d known it for ages. She also knew that he’d never expected to be having a conversation like this with her in a hundred years.
    “Look,” she said, “I feel really bad. I want to make it up to you, but there are too many people in here. Do you think we could go somewhere else and talk?”
    “Sure.”
    “I think I got the wrong impression earlier.”
    “In h gave you the wrong impression.”
    “It’s just that it’s hard to know what to do for the best these days, isn’t it? And like you say, with everything that’s happened here today, everyone’s on a knife edge. The stakes are so much higher now, you know? You put a foot out of place or say the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time and…”
    “I know,” Mark said. “I feel the same. Especially with Jas. It’s like I’m treading on eggshells all the time. Don’t say anything, but I’m starting to think he’s losing the plot.”
    “He’s struggling, just like the rest of us,” Lorna agreed. “Hey, I kept a bottle of wine hidden away in the kitchen. It won’t help against the cold, but if you fancy a glass…?”
    “Or two?”
    “Or three?”
    He moved toward her and she started back down the steps. She led him quickly across the courtyard, both of them frantically looking from side to side, checking no one else was around like a pair of kids sneaking out after being grounded by their parents. They stopped outside the café door.
    “Have you still got the keys?” she asked. He rummaged in his trouser pockets and pulled out a bunch of keys. He started looking through them, holding up one at a time until he found the one which fitted the lock. Hands trembling with nervous excitement, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, then did the same with the door into the kitchen.
    They’d barely got inside before she was on him. She shut the door behind her, then wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard. Dumbstruck, for a moment he forgot how to react. It had been so long since he’d had any physical contact like this. The kiss took Lorna by surprise too, and for a few seconds she forgot herself. The warmth of holding another person close … the softness of their lips … the moisture and heat which passed between them … Basic pleasures had all but been completely neglected since the day everyone had died. How long had it been since either of them had felt anything like this?
    “Bloody hell, Lorna,” he said in a momentary gap between her frantic kisses, barely able to control himself.
    “Put something up at the window,” she told him. “We don’t want anyone looking in on us.”
    He kissed her again, then reluctantly pulled away and did as she asked. He was hard and he adjusted himself, struggling to think straight, his belly burning with desire. He managed to block the narrow strip windows with dish cloths, chopping boards and empty boxes, doing all he could to cover up the gaps as quickly as possible.
    “I wasn’t expecting this,” he said as he worked, suddenly feeling incredibly emotional but doing all he could not to show it. “I didn’t think you felt this way…”
    “Funny how things work out,” she replied, leaning up against a stainless steel work unit and watching him. He looked ack over his shoulder as she undid the zip on the heavy winter coat she seemed to be permanently wearing these days. With no real heating anywhere in the castle other than the classroom, everyone wore as many layers of clothing as they could comfortably get on. She took off her coat and a sweatshirt, already struggling with the cold, then slowly started to undo the buttons on her shirt. Ainsworth couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Are you ready for that drink now?” she asked.
    “Sure … thanks…”
    Lorna moved forward and