Capri 1949,

James was silent on the drive back to the villa and Helen watched his profile as he stared ahead through the windshield. He pretended not to notice her looking at him and she clenched her jaw and looked out over the cliff at where the moon reflected off the sea instead, following a ship on the horizon with her eyes until they turned a corner and the view was obscured by a hedge.

"You're angry," she stated a little while later, standing in the dark doorway of the salon at the villa. James sat heavily in an armchair and roughly tugged a cord from a mahogany box on the floor.

"Why on earth would I be angry with you Helen," he said in a flat tone as he unbuttoned his shirt and attached the cord to the side of the plate across his chest, the box on the floor whirring to life and a soft tick tick filling the candlelit room.

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning, that's all," Helen explained, leaning on the door frame and picking at a piece of plaster with her nail.

"Then it probably wasn't," James responded coolly, loosening the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves and not meeting her eyes.

"I wasn't on planning on calling on her."

"Why should I mind if you did?"

"James," she breathed sorrowfully, stepping closer. "Don't be like this!"

"Be like what Helen?" he snapped and she screwed her face up.

"I didn't know they were here!" she replied defensively but James didn't respond, just fiddled intently with the dials on his chest.

"I don't know why you're making such a song and dance about it Helen," he said indifferently a moment later, staring across the room avoiding her gaze. She huffed a ragged breath and let her hands fall to her sides, clenching her fists in irritation before stalking across the room towards the stairs. She gripped the banister firmly in her hand and looked at the floor, her hair falling about her face as she took a few fortifying breaths.

"I can't take it any more James,"she began. "This silent stoic BOLLOCKS!" She snapped her head and glared in his direction to see him gripping the armrests hard, his jaw clenched. "Aren't you going to say anything?" she choked a minute later.

James couldn't bring himself to look at her. "I don't know what you want me to say Helen," he managed around the lump in his throat.

Helen stood frozen at the foot of the stairs. Her jaw quivered and she chewed her lip, feeling unbelievably foolish that after her outburst she couldn't think of the right thing to say, so she said nothing and went to bed instead.