Winston considered a place where they could be alone, which is how and why he rented Mr Charrington’s room.
Julia had agreed with unexpected readiness knowing it was insane. It was as if they “were intentionally stepping nearer to their graves.”
As Winston waited for Julia at the flat he thought of the cellars of the Ministry of Love where torture took place. He knew it would happen, his hope was to postpone it, yet renting this flat would bring it nearer.
He heard Julia enter, carrying a tool-bag. He went to embrace her, but she pushed away, wanting to show him what she had brought.
Below her tools were paper packets. There was sugar, a loaf of real bread, jam, milk, and coffee. Real coffee.
He recognised the smell from his childhood.