By the time Kelly had finished the bottle of champagne it was time to go.
Branen told her he had nowhere to stay and explained how much she needed to be walked home and how much he needed a cup of coffee.
She had a first floor flat above a deli which looked out over Old Compton Street.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked.
“I’ve got a smallholding.”
“What, in Soho?”
“Yeah sure, in the middle of the square.”
She closed the fridge door and leant back on it, “Why are you so secretive?”
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