Ben heard her and took her hand. “Keep the faith, to use another clichéd expression. As soon as we’re finished we’ll go back to the room and decide what to do next.”
She gave him a wan smile, then pulled her hand free so that the waiter could put down their plates. They didn’t talk much as they ate, other than Ben reminding her occasionally that she should smile. “We’re lovers enjoying dinner together, not two people heading off to a funeral.”
“You could have chosen a better metaphor,” she replied, smiling as he’d asked her to.
“Sorry. Umm, going to an execution? No, that’s just as bad. Going to the dentist? To the closest dumpster so scrounge for our meals?”
“That’s yuck,” Irene retorted.
“It’s not that bad if you’re starving, or so I’ve been told.”
She made a moue of disgust, saying, “I’d ratherstarve,” and went back to eating.