They walked hand-in-hand like teenagers huddled comfortably under his £10 umbrella with a shaky handle that he’s had since graduating from university all those years ago. The rain was coming down in torrents, the sound of drops on the pavement drowning out whatever whisper of a conversation they were still having at this point in the evening. Fortunately, it was also rendering his heavy breathing inaudible, masking his nervousness from her, at least for now. But she knew, as they always do. The pounding in his chest echoed through his thick woolen jumper and drenched parka to where her hand was tightly grasping his arm. She could feel his anxiety, his boyish enthusiasm for their time together, and all she could do is hold on tighter, nestling her face in the reassuring cold of his shoulder.