They could hear the merriness of the guests escaping the cracks in the old house’s crooks and crannies and they could feel the dampness in the air. The atmosphere felt heavy and wet as if it might rain, but it was turning colder by the second, which perhaps meant snow. “That’s better,” Ella said as she pulled out a packet of cigarettes from the pocket in her denim dress. She leant on the garden table made of antique steel and padded down her body for a lighter. Fergus stepped towards her with a silver zippo in his hand. “Allow me.” He flipped the cap off the lighter, exposing the light blue powerful flame and drew it towards Ella. Once the cigarette was lit, Fergus leant back against the table next to her. She offered him one of her cigarettes, gesturing the packet towards him and raising her eyebrows. He shook his head. “I quit,” he said. “Then why did you ask me outside for a cigarette?”
