“Where on earth did you come from?” She was silent for a long moment. “Hertfordshire.” He laughed, without restraint or apology. “You really must give me something to call you,” she said. “If we go on like this, I’m going to need a name to cry out, and I don’t think you want it to be honeybee.” “Just try it, blossom.” He sat up in bed. “But if you insist on something else, just use Ash. It’s what my friends call me.” Or called me, when I still had friends.
