Ben was deeply asleep when he heard an unfamiliar beeping. He felt momentarily disoriented, wondering if he was still in hospital and, if so, why he was naked. But he swiftly realised that he felt far too comfortable for that, coming to his senses as he heard Marcie’s groan beside him. He opened his eyes as she rolled over to stop the alarm, seeing the mole-scattered bare skin of her back and the disordered state of her wild braided hair in the light that crept around the curtains.

His arm still lay across her naked body, and already he felt a full erection that he would have gladly kept pushing against her buttocks and hips, or even her vulva. But she rolled back over only to give him a quick firm kiss on his lips, saying, “I’ve got to get up for work, but you stay here to sleep more,” before she pushed herself out of bed.

He relaxed, ready to follow her instruction, and felt himself drifting off again even as he heard her bumping around the room. He was awoken by some smaller noises a little later, and he realised that she’d come back in. By the chinks of morning light he could see that she was now fully dressed in some fresh loose trousers and yet another smart blouse, her hair pinned back tightly again. She had a mug of tea in her hand, and he realised she was trying to creep to the bedside to leave it there for him.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow to reach over and clear some space for it, throwing the duvet aside, blearily saying, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Marcie said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve left a note on the table, but enjoy your lie-in. I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

She had put the mug down and was leaning over him, resting her fingertips on his cheek just as she had at times last night. She stooped down to give him a peck on his lips, then suddenly grabbed the duvet to pull it right off him.

“I want to see that it wasn’t just a dream!” she explained with enthusiasm. His broad chest and belly had already been exposed. Now his hips and his genitals were too. His penis was engorged again, stretched long in his morning arousal, but not truly hard. That began to change as Marcie ran her nails down his chest, over his belly, and then, to his surprise and delight, wrapped her hand around his shaft to grip it firmly.

“Gotcha!” she exclaimed in a quiet, conspiratorial way, but she immediately released him to stand up straight above him again. “Oh, Ben. I am truly sorry to leave you,” she said, “But make yourself at home and I’ll be back before you know it for our adventure in the Dene, and maybe more. I can promise that I’ll be thinking of you, so just relax and look after your lungs.” She stooped down again to give him another kiss, lingering this time with her lips parted, tickling him with her fingertips behind his ear. Ben raised his fingers to her chin, but she pulled away, saying plaintively “I must go,” as she backed towards to door.

But she paused when she got there, lifting her hand to her lips to blow him a final kiss. “Lie back now. Get more sleep if you can. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you,” Ben said as she left, feeling self-conscious as he pulled up the duvet and made a show of settling back down. He heard her unlock the door, then close it behind her firmly. He stared at the ceiling as he thought of her last night, his own hand gripping his erection now. But then he tried to comply with Marcie’s instructions, lying back and relaxing while his tea cooled. It didn’t take long for him to realise that it was futile though, that he was not going to get back off to sleep, so he got up and walked naked through the flat to the bathroom with his mug.

He urinated, showered, finished the tea that Marcie had made for him, then went to the spare room still wrapped in his towel to get dressed. On his way back to the bathroom to hang up his towel, he saw Marcie’s note on a page that was clearly torn from her Filofax.

“Cereal, honey etc in cupboards. Fresh coffee in fridge for cafetiere. Help yourself. If able to shop: milk, bread, juice, sugar, something for tea, anything else you want. I’m home 13:30, don’t wait for lunch (soup?). Check shelves for any book to read. Chill out, take care of yourself.” At the bottom she’d put the letter M and a small X, just as there had been on the note she’d left with him in hospital. Ben felt confident it was her kiss now, but this time she had also drawn a small heart just before it.

Ben wondered what she had meant by that. Perhaps this was her way of signing off with love, but without actually writing that dangerous word down. As he pottered around the kitchen, making himself half a pot of coffee and finding something for breakfast, he thought of what he’d have put if he’d left a note for her, and realised that he felt very comfortable with using that four-letter word now.

It was true that Marcie had been a stranger to him less than forty-eight hours ago, but it was also true that they had become very close. When she had come to him in the night, inviting him to her bed, and he had said yes, he knew that he was agreeing to more than just physical intimacy. He thought he remembered her speaking of her soul reaching out to him, and he knew that he felt the same way. The shock of the precarious situation that he had found himself in had driven them together, but they were not merely survivors clinging together on a life raft now. Instead he felt sure they were already committed lovers, savouring the fresh air blowing from that unknown future as they joyfully breathed it in with eager anticipation, turning their backs to the car crash that Marcie had spoken of being behind them.

He was hungry, and his breakfast made quite a dent in Marcie’s stocks. He took her note to add in small letters, “Cereal, jam, yoghurt, bananas.” Then he thought of a meal that he could cook. He hoped that she would like a chicken curry made with a jar of sauce, one of his reliable regular recipes. He added these to his list too, after checking that she had rice and some onions already. Thinking back to the previous evening, he also decided to get a bottle of wine to put in the fridge, even though he guessed it might not be something that Marcie drank every night.

Now that he had a plan, he cleaned up in the kitchen, brushed his teeth and shaved, tidied the spare room, then went through to Marcie’s bedroom to make her bed. He drew the heavy green curtains back, finding tiebacks to gather them in and seeing the thin voile curtains behind them that let the light in. He shook out the duvet and pillows, smoothing the sheet down before remaking the bed. He thought the paired piles of plump pillows that he’d stacked against the high headboard seemed emblematic of their new status as a genuine couple. He was aware though that he shouldn’t make assumptions or put pressure on Marcie to sleep with him again. But as he put the tube of lubricant that he’d found discarded and forgotten in the bedclothes on the bedside table, he remembered again with pleasure what they had done there the night before, sincerely hoping that it was just the start of their shared adventures in that bed. He scanned around, unsure that he could tidy anything else up, but he fondly picked up Marcie’s modest pyjamas to take through to the laundry basket in the bathroom.

Feeling positive that the flat was shipshape again and that he was ready for the day, Ben found his jacket and phone, checked that he had his wallet and the keys that Marcie had given him, then slipped his shoes on before stepping outside. He glanced at the broken clouds in the fresh spring sky and guessed rain showers would be unlikely. He felt fairly confident of the local geography, primarily from nights out on his namesake, the nearby Osborne Road. He felt that if he headed towards it, he would soon find the short road that was busy with shops which he knew ran off it. This turned out to be closer than he had realised, and he easily found a small supermarket that let him do all his shopping. He passed a florist’s too, and on an impulse bought a modest bunch of flowers for Marcie. He chose some for their white and blue colours, or perhaps just because he recognised they’d used sprigs of eucalyptus leaves for decoration.

He was back at the flat with the shopping tidied away and the flowers in a jug of water before eleven o’clock, his breathing feeling just fine from the gentle exercise. He thought of how he might spend the rest of the morning, and decided to follow up Marcie’s suggestion rather than returning to the book that they had started together. He put the kettle on for another coffee, then started browsing the books on the living room shelves. It was an impressive collection, with large hardcover books like the atlas that Marcie had pulled out on the lower shelves and ranks of paperbacks higher up. He thought there were too many for him to even read all the spines’ titles in a morning, especially when he saw these paperbacks were stacked two deep on the shelf.

Once he’d popped back into the kitchen to finish making his coffee, he came back to check some of the titles hidden behind the front row. As he pulled a few books away on the top shelf, one book seemed to leap out at him. Its spine was brightly coloured, and its simple title boldly declared in large letters, “Hot Sex.” He pulled it out, unsure if it were a joke, but realised that it was not when he read the strapline on the cover, “The ultimate bedside companion, packed with erotic yet practical tips for men and women.”

Intrigued, he sat down on the sofa with his mug of tea to read more. Skipping over the blurb on the first few pages, he got stuck in with the first proper chapter, simply called “Masturbation.” Using a bookmark that he’d found loose on the bookshelves to follow the lines, as Marcie has shown him, he realised the writing style was actually quite easygoing.

After getting through some chatty introductory paragraphs, he read sections where the author described first the penis and then the vagina. He skipped over the description of the former to some extent, but he really concentrated on the latter. He felt things falling into place as he read, half-familiar descriptions and experiences from previous girlfriends becoming clear. He realised that things which he’d had only a vague understanding of, like the necessity of clitoral stimulation for female orgasm or the significance of the G-spot, had a clear and definite truth.

As he read these details, in fascination and a degree of pleasant arousal, he recognised that he was automatically relating everything he read to Marcie specifically. He wanted to talk to her about all the things that the author, this Tracy Cox, had described, to confirm whether it was true. He wanted her to share her own feelings about what her most sensitive spots were too, so that he could really get to know them well and give her all the pleasure that she’d given him.

His coffee grew slowly cold as he pressed on, reading next about solo sex “for her.” He could only assume that Marcie had read this book too, and felt excited and encouraged by that thought. She had surely taken the author’s advice, practising masturbation to learn more about her body and to explore her sexual potential. He very much hoped that they would be able to talk about this together soon too, and he indulged in daydreams about her demonstrating things to him. They had been honest with each other so far, he thought, and she had also seemed happy to talk about sex while they were in bed together last night. He realised now how important that open honesty might be. He felt eager to learn whether she would be able to explain the most intimate parts of her body to him, or perhaps show him how she carried on when she was alone.

He kept on reading with concentration through a section on masturbation techniques for women, which listed positions or situations to try. The author then listed “Ten Good Reasons to Masturbate,” making him feel increasingly convinced that Marcie would have followed the author’s recommendations. The book then moved into a similar section for men, which Ben felt might be less insightful to him.

He set the book aside and pondered his own attitudes about “wanking off”, as he thought of it, while he sipped his cool coffee. He felt empathy for some of the quotes from men in the book, that it was healthy to do it regularly, but that there was still a lot of secrecy and perhaps some guilt around it. He was reassured by the idea that it wasn’t only for lonely men without girlfriends. Yet he also felt that perhaps he had been doing himself a disservice by just shaking it out quickly. He had still come quite quickly when Marcie had started playing with him last night, but the way that she had done it had felt different. She had not really rubbed him up and down, just held him and gently stroked his most sensitive points with slow touches. Yet the orgasm that she’d triggered had been profoundly satisfying, not least from the surprising force of his ejaculation.

He decided to put the book back where he had found it, so Marcie didn’t learn that he had been reading it straight away. But he left his bookmark in it, and resolved to find a suitable moment to talk to her about it before the evening. Ben was still cautious about forcing himself on her, and he wanted to make it clear that she didn’t have to take him into her bed again just because she had done so once. Yet he also felt confident that things had moved on between them significantly, beyond mere friendship. It seemed likely that they would keep sleeping together with all the confidence and self-assurance of a far more established couple now.

When he heard a rumpus from upstairs, with some banging and the wail of a child’s tantrum, Ben felt he ought to stop just daydreaming about sex with Marcie. He went to the bathroom to freshen himself up by splashing his face with cold water, then returned to the sofa with the book he had started yesterday. He found himself slipping back into the story of Mort easily, imagining Marcie’s voice in the words, but he missed the pleasure of hearing her read it aloud.

He was disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing. He searched frantically for it in his jacket pocket, feeling relief when he found it in time to answer the call from Marcie herself.

“I’m sorry to ask you this,” she said after they’d said hello and asked how each other were, “But I forgot we’d loaded the car with Richard’s crap yesterday afternoon. I saw it there when I started walking to work, then thought I’d better drive in to dump it all in his office. But I’m not sure I can carry it all, and to be honest I’d feel better if you were with me when I do it. I’m finishing here in half an hour. Could I ask you to meet me at the car? It’s in exactly the same place as it was when I picked you up from hospital. Can you find it? Oh, and are you sure you’ll be okay walking all that way and then doing some lifting?”

Ben reassured her that he could find his way, and that he would be fine carrying a few boxes. He also told her truthfully that he was glad she had rung to ask for his help. She said how grateful she was too, then closed down the call, explaining she needed to get back to the library helpdesk.

Ben tidied up a little, taking his mug to the sink, then put his jacket on with his phone back in its pocket, before putting his shoes on to leave the flat again. He thought he could find his way to Marcie’s workplace, remembering there was a pedestrian route between Osborne Road and the university buildings. He found this easily once he had reached a familiar Metro station, and so within twenty minutes of finishing their call, he was turning into the street where Marcie had parked her car. He walked up to it, noticed the familiar boxes still loaded inside it, then saw a low wall to perch on while he waited. Sitting down on the hard stone, he stretched his shoulders back and took some deliberate slow and easy breaths, relaxing as he admired the fresh new growth on the healthy trees that lined the street.

When he spotted Marcie walking towards her car on the pavement, clutching her slim satchel strapped over the shoulder of her smart jacket, he felt his heart beat a little faster in his joy at seeing her. As he met her halfway, she smiled broadly and said, “Hello you.” They approached each other close enough for Ben to reach out and touch her arm, then as she raised her face, he leant down to give her a peck on the cheek. When his lips had brushed her soft warm skin, he was prepared to move swiftly to kiss her other cheek, feeling pleased that he’d anticipated this as they pulled apart, grinning at each other.

“Come on, let’s get this over and done with,” Marcie said, slipping her hand into his. “The Law School’s staff offices are in there,” she explained, pointing at one of the converted houses with her free hand. “I left Richard a message, but I’m not sure he’s in. I’ll say hello to our office admin Julie anyway, and she’ll find us somewhere to put them if we can’t get into his office. Are you sure you can manage that?”

Marcie had opened the car boot as she described her plan, and Ben had got one of the fullest boxes out, with a tied-up carrier bag balanced on top. He assured her he would be okay, so she took two more carrier bags, locked the car, and they set off. Marcie obviously knew the code to let them in, then knocked at an open door on the ground floor before walking on in.

“Hi Julie,” she said brightly, putting her bags down, “This is Ben. He’s helping me drop some stuff off for Professor York. Do you know if he’s in?”

“Marcie, you’re looking well,” a heavy older woman said, rising to her feet from behind her desk to come towards them. Ben was interested to see that she naturally gave Marcie the same welcoming kiss that she’d just shared with him. “Pleased to meet you, Ben,” she went on to say warmly, holding out her hand. He put his box down shake it gratefully, as he’d felt unsure of trying Marcie’s Mediterranean greeting with this unknown woman.

“I think the professor is in. Would you like me to buzz him?” Julie asked, going back to stand beside her desk.

“Yes please,” Marcie agreed, breathing in deeply as if steeling herself for an unpleasant challenge.

Julie lifted the handset on her complex desk phone and pressed a button. “Hello Professor,” she said in a business-like way, obviously getting through immediately, “Miss Tabone is here with a friend to drop some things off for you. Can she come up? Thank you.”

She hung up, then smiled at Marcie, “Go on up, pet. You don’t need another pair of hands, do you?”

“No, thank you,” Marcie confirmed, then picked up the bags to lead Ben up the domestic-seeming stairs to a door on the first floor. She knocked, balancing the bags awkwardly, then opened it when they heard a voice bark, “Come!”

Richard was sitting at a large desk set beside a high bay window that looked through the trees over the street. Ben realised this must have been one of the grandest rooms in the original house, and there was obviously some status associated with having an office here now. “Marcella, darling,” he said, rising to his feet as she walked in, his hands spread wide, but then he saw Ben behind her and seemed to deflate. “Oh, it’s you. Yes, put them down there, thank you,” he ordered, his tone expressing contempt rather than gratitude.

Ben put his box down in the empty spot behind the door that Richard had indicated, then Marcie put her carrier bags down next to it, all while she explained, “I was just tidying the flat and found quite a lot of your things. I thought I’d bring them round so you needn’t worry about coming around to collect them.”

“Hmm, I see,” was all Richard found to say.

“There are two more boxes, I think. Ben and I will just pick them up from the car.”

“Yes, yes. Go ahead,” he said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

Ben followed Marcie down the stairs and out of the building in silence. Once they’d reached the pavement, Ben quickened his pace to walk back towards the car beside her and saw that her face was set in a grim fury. “What a pig!” she exclaimed when she felt a safe distance away, “I’m so cross at his behaviour, treating you like that. Mother of God, what a fool I feel. How did I ever let him charm me?”

“Don’t worry. It’s not a problem for me,” Ben said. He thought of the apparent facts, that whatever Richard did, Marcie would be taking him home to her flat now, not Richard, and that gave him a reassuring sense of self-confidence. In a way, the worse that Richard behaved, the better it would be for Marcie and him, as long as he demonstrated the kindness and appreciation toward her that he’d committed to. He didn’t know how to explain this, but he did say, “You’re showing your true strength now.”

Marcie made a scoffing noise, but Ben went on as a thought occurred to him, “He might just be trying to impose some control on the situation. He lost that when you changed the script. If him telling me where to put some boxes down is the consequence, well, it’s a small price to pay for you taking charge.”

“You’re too kind. Come on, let’s dump these last boxes then forget him,” Marcie said, now they were back at her car. Ben found he could lift the two remaining boxes by himself, so he let Marcie lock up the car, then lead him back to the Law School building.

Richard didn’t get up from his desk when they went upstairs into his office again, making a thin pretence of being busy at something on his desktop computer. “Marcella, my rose, thank you for that,” he said, even though it was manifestly only Ben who’d brought anything to drop off this time. “Will you pop an appointment in my calendar later? We must catch up to talk about your thesis outline for your review soon.”

Marcie calmly drew herself up straight before the professor’s desk while Ben waited by the door. “Actually I don’t think that is a good idea. I will be asking Postgrad Student Support about changing my supervisor now.”

“I see,” he said in a cool voice, his eyes only moving briefly from his screen to look at her, then fleetingly glance at Ben. “Well, if you want to take that route, be aware that it may set your progress back. Perhaps you and I can talk it about it some other time, in private,” he clarified with another tiny glance at Ben.

“I think I’ll just speak to Student Support first, thank you. So, goodbye Richard,” Marcie said stiffly, turning away from him, gesturing for Ben to leave the room ahead of her.

“Erm, yes, well goodbye,” Ben heard Richard say somewhat pathetically as Marcie closed the door behind her.

As they passed the open door on the ground floor, they heard Julie call out, “Marcie, is that you?”

She gripped Ben’s arm, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes, saying “I’d better go in to say goodbye to her too.”

It seemed as if the older woman had known that something painful or awkward had just happened. She rose from her desk without hesitating to give Marcie a motherly hug, then let her go to grab a box of tissues from her desk to offer to her.

“There there, it’s alright,” she said, squeezing Marcie’s shoulder as she pulled a tissue out.

“I’m fine, really,” Marcie said, blowing her nose, “Thank you. I should let you know though, I might not be in here so often now. I’m going to contact Student Support about changing tutors.”

“I understand, pet,” Julie reassured her. “You’re a brave girl. Anything I can do to help, anything at all, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Julie. You’re always so kind,” she said, blowing her nose again.

“It’s no bother at all. And have you got Ben to look after you now too?” she added, glancing across at him to give him a wink that was so quick and subtle, Ben almost thought he’d imagined it.

“Yes, but Ben’s had some bad news too. He’s only just come out of hospital!”

“I’m sorry to hear that, pet. But you can look after each other then,” Julie declared in a warm tone, smiling contentedly. Perhaps the way that Marcie had not hesitated when she had agreed that Ben would take care of her confirmed something that Julie had already suspected.

“Yes, we will,” Marcie assured her, “But I must let you get on.”

“Aye, you two get off, enjoy the rest of your day,” Julie said, returning to her desk, “Just remember, anything at all, just ask. We owe you that.”

Marcie thanked her one last time, tucking her tissue away, then she and Ben both said goodbye as they made their way out. As they stepped into the fresh spring air, Marcie took a deep breath and blew it out noisily, as if she’d been struggling underwater but had just found her way back to the surface. She gripped Ben’s hand firmly and set off down the pavement with him at a brisk pace.

“Well, that’s done. I’ll ring the university’s postgrad admin team tomorrow morning. Let’s forget all about it for now. Do you want to see where I work?” she asked brightly, seemingly putting a deliberate spring in her step, “It’s not far, and there’s a cafe where we could get some lunch.”

“That would be nice. I’m hungry. I bought a carton of soup with some other stuff, but it will keep. I was going to make chicken curry for tea.”

“Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to go to the shops, and we don’t really have to take it in turns to cook, but it will be a treat to let you make something for me.”

The university library was indeed very close, back along the route they’d taken from the hospital yesterday. Marcie had started talking to him about it as they walked there, but wanted to wash her hands of Richard’s dirty things once they got inside. Ben agreed to do the same, and Marcie continued to describe the place after they’d used the toilets, then got some food and drinks. She proudly described its hidden archives, the way its atmosphere changed throughout the academic year, and how it felt to be there alone out of hours. It was clear that she loved the place, and that she thought it was the beating heart of the university. She was trying to work out a way to get Ben membership too, so he could come and go as he pleased. Though they’d not needed a pass them to get to the cafe, Ben had seen the barriers inside the doorway that people used cards to get through.

He said that he didn’t need Marcie to get membership for him, that he couldn’t read books meant for university students. But she still seemed keen, explaining to him that if he got an IT account too, he could use the computers. He admitted that he did like the idea of being able to stop by and see her at work. Ben found himself warming to the buzz of the place too, seeing the diversity of students and older people passing through the cafe, gathering in large loud groups or making small quieter rendezvous. He felt a little out of place, the big manual labourer sat at one of their tables with his calloused hands. Yet as he sipped his coffee like a student, happy in the company of the woman who practically owned this space, he found that he was enjoying just being there.

By the time they had finished, she was forming a plan to register him as a visiting academic, even without a reference from a partner university. She told him to leave it with her. He said that would be nice, but then felt compelled to shamefully admit that he didn’t even have a card for the city’s libraries.

“Oh, that’s a pity,” Marcie said, quickly covering her first reaction of shocked disbelief that seemed to flash across her face. “It has a lot that you could enjoy discovering there, music too, and you’re paying for it all already with your Council Tax. I can take you down there another day perhaps to help you get set up and show you around. You’ll just need proof of address. I guess we should pick that up from your flat before we go. But what did you want to do now that I’m off for the afternoon? We’d planned a walk in Jesmond Dene.”

“That would be good,” Ben agreed, thinking of the symmetry of it, with him showing Marcie where he worked now that she had shown him her library. But then he thought ruefully that perhaps now it was just where he used to work.

As they walked to the car hand in hand, Marcie said, “I thought you might look at my own bookshelves at home when I left you on your own in the flat this morning. Did you find anything that caught your eye?”

Ben realised that this was the time for honesty, even though it may not have been the best time to discuss it. “Erm, there was one book I found actually,” he began guiltily, “It was called Hot Sex. It was by Tracy Cox, I think. I hope you don’t mind.”

Marcie chuckled, squeezing his hand. “Fancy you finding that,” she said. “Yes, I know the book you mean. She wrote for Cosmopolitan magazine, I think. Do you know it? Did your old girlfriends read it perhaps?”

“I think at least one did,” Ben admitted, remembering how a specific ex-girlfriend used to try to talk about what she had read in the glossy magazine. He had never been sure if she wanted him to follow its sexual advice or just share her hilarity at what they published under the vague theme of what to do in the bedroom.

“Did you read much of the book then?” Marcie asked cheekily as they got into the car.

“Well, just the first few pages really,” he said sheepishly.

“Could you remind me how it started?” Marcie asked, looking at him with a twinkling smile as her hand rested on the gearstick, ready to start the car.

Feeling as if he could do nothing but plough on with describing the book’s details, he answered her in a matter-of-fact way, “It described the penis and the vagina. Then it talked about masturbation, for women.”

“Yes, I think I remember. Perhaps we should talk about this later,” Marcie said thoughtfully, still smiling to herself as she started the car, “Somewhere where we relax in private and get comfortable,” she concluded, leaning across the car towards Ben. He reacted instinctively, leaning in towards her as well so their lips came together. But a peck was all Marcie wanted as she sat upright again, slipped the car into gear and pulled away.