Ben quickly grabbed the kettle to fill it as Marcie picked up and sorted their discarded clothes. He turned it on, then went to get the mugs and teabags from the cupboard that he’d been leaning on, while Marcie pulled up her knickers, refastened her bra, and then got into her trousers.

“Ahem,” she primly intoned, holding out Ben’s crumpled boxer shorts, pinched them between her finger and thumb as if she found them mildly disgusting. Ben took them and began to dutifully put them on, returning her twinkling smile with a foolish grin as she began buttoning her blouse.

They both startled as they heard Marcie’s phone start ringing. “Who’s that now?” Marcie asked in mock exasperation as she strode into the living room.

Ben listened over the noise of the boiling kettle as he pulled up his own trousers. It sounded as if it was a stranger to Marcie, but it seemed that she was being very polite.

Then to his surprise, she leaned back into the kitchen to say, “It’s Roland Michaels, the solicitor I mentioned. He’d like to speak to you. Is that okay?”

“Aye,” Ben found himself agreeing automatically, stepping into the living room to take the phone from Marcie’s hand. He had a brief thought of how normal life went on, the real world kept turning, even if he and Marcie had found their way to a private heavenly realm, a new magical land, just for a snatched moment.

“Ben Osborne? Let me introduce myself. I’m Roland Michaels, workplace solicitor and Ms Trish McDonald’s colleague, whom I believe is a close friend of your partner, Miss Tabone. Ms McDonald said you’d had a spot of bother and might need our services. I know we have an appointment in the diary, but I thought it would be useful if I did a little prep ahead of that. Is this a good time to talk?”

Ben was immediately struck by the man’s business-like approach. His voice was posh, but it rumbled along with a kind and reassuring warmth. Though he’d barely been able to get a few words of assent in, Ben could already imagine himself trusting the man’s easy professional competence.

He went on to answer Roland’s queries about his personal details, then confirmed that he’d been to hospital and been diagnosed with pneumoconiosis, but Roland stopped him from going into the whole story, saying they’d discuss it all tomorrow. He seemed keener to get details about Ben’s employer, asking how long he’d worked there and what his employment contract said about long-term sickness.

Ben admitted that he’d not thought to check that. Roland suggested he dig the paperwork out before they met, if he could find it, also suggesting he bring in something for the identity check that Roland would need to make. He was then very interested to hear that there was some risk in Ben returning to his own flat.

“Don’t worry,” Roland reassured him as he wound up, “I’ll winkle your contract out of the Armstrong Trust myself if necessary, and the identity verification can be done later. If you can lay your hands on it though, do bring it along tomorrow so that I can check what your employer has explicitly stated about their duties. If possible, please do bring that hospital discharge note you mentioned too. Now, did you have any more questions that can’t wait until tomorrow? Very good. Well, Mister Osborne, I’ll look forward to meeting you in person then, and Miss Tabone too.”

As Ben hung up, Marcie came through from the kitchen with their mugs of tea and his t-shirt over her shoulder. He’d sat down at the table to take the call, and now that it was over, he felt a little foolish to be sitting there undressed from the waist up. He was therefore grateful that Marcie had thought to help him cover himself up again.

“How did it go?” she asked, sitting down at the table too as he quickly put his t-shirt on.

“Very well, I thought,” Ben answered before going into the details of what he’d discussed with Roland as they sipped the tea.

“It’s quite unusual for someone like him to be so eager and helpful before he’s even met his clients,” Marcie noted, “Either he’s really dedicated or Trish McDonald gave him serious rocket up the arse.”

Ben chuckled, “Perhaps both. We’ll meet him soon anyway, but it would be good to have that paperwork. Could you help me around to the flat again, tomorrow morning? The doctor said it would be okay for me to pop in, with my inhaler, just in case.”

“Of course, silly!” she assured him, “We can pick up a load of your stuff, if you like. With you to help me, I won’t feel like a thief creeping about up there.”

“Aye, about that,” Ben began, feeling a bit awkward.

“What?” Marcie asked anxiously, perhaps unsure of what was coming.

“You remember at the doctors, you said I should give them your address? And then Roland, he called you my partner, like it was an official thing,” he started, but then hesitated. He looked into Marcie’s worried eyes, reaching out to grip her hand, before carrying on, “Well, I’ll say it. Please may I move in with you, Marcie? Please may we become partners, cohabiting?”

“Oh Ben, yes! Of course!” she responded immediately with heartfelt emphasis. “It’s all happening so quickly, isn’t it? But we’re already there really, aren’t we? Yes, yes, of course! You’re my boyfriend, you live in my flat, that’s the truth, and I’m happy to stand on the street and shout it out. It’s like what we did in the kitchen just now, isn’t it? I know we’d already been intimate, and we could have called that sex before, but actually fucking, doing old fashioned sexual intercourse, that’s made it real, hasn’t it? It’s our consummation,” she added, then covered her mouth in embarrassment, perhaps recognising what her choice of words implied. She rushed out an apology, “Oh, am I letting my mouth run away too fast again? I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right. We’re not married yet, but we are together, a team,” Ben said, then realised his own words had run away carelessly. He wondered why he’d let the word ‘yet’ slip out, and if Marcie had noticed. He went on though, speaking sincerely, “And what we’ve just done, it’s like we’ve proved that, like we’re two become one.”

“Hey, don’t bring those naughty Spice Girls into it!” Marcie warned teasingly, but her mouth was making a beaming grin.

“No, they’re water under the bridge,” Ben laughed. He realised that he felt the same about what she’d said though, adding, “But I’d be very happy to join you, going out onto the street, I mean. We could stand together with our arms up like this,” he explained, raising their clenched hands high, “And shout to the neighbours, ‘We did it. We fucked. We’re in love, and we’re staying that way!’”

“Well, maybe we won’t need to,” Marcie said, a slightly worried expression suddenly crossing her face as Ben let their hands drop again.

“No, I don’t mean it really,” he reassured her, “But I’m so happy that you agreed, that you said yes to me moving in. I guess there will be lots to sort, but we can take our time, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, “We’ll just pick up a bit more of your stuff tomorrow, then I can have a bit more of a sort through my things over the weekend. I’m just doing a Saturday afternoon shift, did I say? Then we can take it from there, make a list of people to tell. You don’t need to give notice on your flat’s contract straight away, while you’re still just signed off sick - though I guess your Trust may be quite relieved when you do. Oh, that phone call, and everything else, it didn’t really spoil the mood after our special moment, did it?”

“No,” Ben reassured her, “Our kitchen fuck, to speak plainly, it will always be a special moment now. For me, well, it was a glimpse of heaven, or some other magical fairy world.”

“Yes,” Marcie cautiously agreed, smiling at him. He leant forwards, and they pecked their lips together.

“But when the phone went, I thought, well, the real world keeps turning, doesn’t it?” Ben went on, “And it still is. I’m sorry, but the call reminded me that I need to speak to my work, and my dad too. I was going to update them, you know, about what the doctor said. And I haven’t spoken to work, well, since I left hospital, the day before yesterday. I should let them know a solicitor may get in touch too.”

“If you’re sure, Ben,” she said cautiously, “They may get a bit funny when you say you’re planning to make a personal injury claim, you know.”

“Well, they’ll find out soon anyway, if Roland starts requesting things. And I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I? If I need to stop work and retrain, some financial help would be really useful.”

“You are so doing the right thing, Ben,” Marcie said earnestly, squeezing his hand, “If you’ve hurt your lungs because of the work you were doing for them, and they could have helped you avoid it, then they really do owe you.”

“Thank you, Marcie. You’re still helping me so much,” he replied seriously, looking up into her eyes as she rose from the table, gathering the empty mugs.

“Oh, do be quiet!” she scoffed, leaning forward to peck his lips again, “Just make your calls, then we can get back to our adventures.”

Ben called his dad’s mobile first. It sounded from the background noises of the pumps and cows bellowing as if he’d caught him in the dairy. His dad didn’t seem to mind stopping to talk though, and was glad that Ben had thought to give him an update from the doctors, even though he didn’t seem too interested in hearing all the details. He was concerned that Ben had been signed off sick for the long term and that he was pursuing a work injury compensation though, offering again to come up to Newcastle or do anything else that he could to help. Ben reassured him that he was getting on fine, that Marcie was helping a great deal, but that he’d call if he needed anything. Then the old man bluntly asked if Marcie was his girlfriend now, and Ben simply confirmed she was. That prompted him to tell Ben that he must bring her over to the farm soon, so that he could meet her and thank her in person for looking after his son. Ben was aware his father hadn’t invited any of his other recent girlfriends that he’d mentioned to Lincolnshire, making him wonder if his dad had already sensed this was a more serious relationship. Ben reassured him that he would visit, just as soon as he and Marcie could get away, then they finished the call by each telling the other to take care.

Rhona, the Trust’s office manager, picked up his next call promptly. She seemed pleased to hear from him, telling him not to worry when he apologised for not calling earlier. But then she seemed to become quite concerned and perhaps a little agitated as she heard him explain what his GP and the hospital doctors had said. Ben confirmed that it was serious, helping her to make sure that she’d noted the word ‘pneumoconiosis’ down correctly. She said that she guessed someone from their HR services would want to talk it all over with him and Harry, his supervisor. Then Ben said he thought that was a good idea, because he’d also spoken to a solicitor about a possible compensation claim for sickness caused by work.

Rhona became very serious at that, asking Ben if she could pass his news on to the Trust’s management council too. He agreed, guessing that they may as well know sooner rather than later. Then he thought to give Rhona an update on his address too, pulling the piece of paper out that Marcie had first given him in the hospital to check it himself.

“Okay, Ben, let me read my notes back to you, to make sure I’ve got everything,” Rhona suggested, keeping her voice calm, “Admitted to hospital Monday, discharged Tuesday, GP confirmed pneumoconiosis, long-term sick, needs HR services appointment, possible work-related illness compensation, FAO Harry Mortimer plus AT council, dust risk in flat over workshop, staying with girlfriend, address 33 and so on. Does that cover it?”

Ben confirmed that it did, then Rhona reassured him that she would keep on top of everything at her end, to help make it as easy as possible for him. Then she told him to just rest and look after himself, but guessed that it would probably be next week before he heard back from HR or herself directly. “I’ll try to keep Harry off your back. I imagine the last thing you need is him fussing at you about rearranging the works calendar and shifting contractor bookings. This must all be a bit of a shock, I imagine. You just take it easy and follow doctors’ orders now, okay?”

As he thanked her and said goodbye, he smiled to himself to think that he’d just been fulfilling some of the doctor’s guidance with Marcie already.

Marcie had been pottering in and out as Ben had been talking, finishing off the job he’d started to put the camp bed away, and perhaps still tidying up after their exploits in the kitchen, finding a more suitable home for everything they’d picked up at the chemist’s. She came to sit beside him again once he’d hung up, taking his hand in hers.

“Was that all right?” she asked with concern, “It sounded quite serious.”

“Well, it is serious I suppose, isn’t it?” Ben admitted with a sigh. “The office manager said HR would set something up, probably next week now. I guess we’ll take it from there.”

“Yes, that’s right. It doesn’t all need to be sorted now. It can’t be. Give yourself time to work out what you want too. The doctor has suggested you have a month off at least. If you want to officially quit your job, you can do it then, and maybe wait until then to give notice on your flat too. Alternatively, I think your employer is legally obliged to adjust your role if you can’t do your old job after a serious illness. Things may be clearer by then anyway. Meanwhile, you and I can just look forward to a nice evening out and some cosy cuddles together on the sofa.”

“Hmm, that sounds good,” Ben agreed, “But we can plan for tomorrow at least. Shall I start making a list of things to pick up?”

“Would you like another page from my Filofax, a leaf from my folio?” Marcie asked, somehow making it seem suggestive, even as she rose to find it.

“Thank you,” he called out, then as he gazed out of the window, over the vase of flowers and the houseplants, he noticed movement at the top of the stairs in the backyard. He raised his voice to alert Marcie, “I think Shona’s on her way down. Do you think she wants help with the kids?”

She rushed back into the room, slapping her Filofax down in front of him, urgently saying, “I’ll see her. You stay here!”

Ben wondered if she wanted to say something in private to Shona about what they’d discussed in the car earlier. He hoped that she didn’t feel the need to defend him for how he’d behaved when he’d seen Shona breastfeeding. “I don’t mind coming out too,” he remarked, but Marcie was shooing him away even as she quickly unbolted the back door.

Ben saw Shona turn at the bottom of the stairs, holding Fiona on her hip but with no sign of the boys. She smiled and waved at Marcie, who’d now slipped outside in her beach-shoes. Ben couldn’t really hear their voices as Marcie swung the door to, but she must have mentioned that he was inside, as Shona glanced in his direction then waved to him too through the glass. However Ben thought that even though she smiled his way, there was perhaps a frown of anxious suspicion on her brow.

Ben look away discreetly to find a blank piece of paper in Marcie’s organiser that he could take out for his list, but he was aware that Marcie and Shona had stayed at the foot of the iron staircase, seemingly huddled together in some conspiratorial exchange. So he found it difficult to concentrate as he vaguely noted down ‘paperwork’, ‘clothes’, ‘boots’, ‘toiletries’, ‘CDs’ and then ‘bike’, wondering if he could pedal his mountain bike around while Marcie drove back with the other stuff. As the pickup wasn’t really his, he was suddenly realising that the bike might become his only means of independent transport.

He heard an unexpected noise coming from outside, muffled by the glass, and briefly wondered if it was Fiona wailing. But when he glanced up, he realised that it was actually Shona, laughing in a high peal that could almost be called a cackle. Marcie was clearly telling her something in their secretive conflab that she’d found wickedly amusing. Ben found it surprising to hear, given the rather dour mood that she’d shown with him so far. He felt reassured though as he bent back to his list, thinking of the value of friendly neighbours, even though he suspected the joke may have been at his expense.

He looked up again when he heard Marcie come back through the door. “Is everything okay?” he asked, a little anxiously.

“Yes, very well,” she breezily reassured him, “She just wanted to clear something up. I said we’d both pop up for a cuppa around later tomorrow morning too. Is that all right?”

“Aye, fine,” Ben agreed, but he had to ask, “Did she mention anything about me being there when she was breastfeeding this morning?”

“Oh, she did mention that,” Marcie admitted vaguely, “She said she was sorry if she offended you.”

“Did you reassure her I wasn’t offended? I was just embarrassed, I guess. Did you say that I hoped I hadn’t seemed like a creep?”

“Not really, but you can tell her all that tomorrow, can’t you? Face to face, as it were, if you can keep your eyes up that high,” she replied cheekily. Ben still felt a bit suspicious that she hadn’t told him everything that the two of them had discussed, but he resigned himself to remain in ignorance. “How’s the list coming along?” she went on to ask, perhaps deliberately changing the subject as she rested her hand affectionately on his shoulder.

“Not very well,” Ben admitted, showing it to her, knowing that she would already be trying to read it, “I can’t seem to think things through.”

“Don’t worry, that’s a good start,” she reassured him, then asked, “Bike? As in push-bike? You’ve not got a throbbing motorcycle hidden away somewhere that you’ve not told me about?”

Ben explained that he had quite a nice mountain bike, and that he’d been trying to think of how he’d get himself about without relying on Marcie. She asked about the pickup, wondering if he could park it on their street, but he confirmed it belonged to the Trust, so he wasn’t sure about using it now. He was surprised and grateful when she immediately suggested she simply add him to her own car insurance, so then they could share the little Ka. She brushed off his thanks, but he took it as a significant sign that she was taking the thought of them living together seriously, which made him consciously acknowledge his own sincere commitment to their new status as well. She reassured him that she was very happy for him to still bring his bike over too, though.

Marcie looked at the little piece of paper again, then said, “I see you’ve not put books or a laptop down, which I guess would be first on my list. Did you want those? Do you even have a laptop yourself? Bringing a desktop PC over may be a bigger job, but I’m sure we could squeeze it in somewhere, if you take my meaning.”

Ben smiled at her double entendre, but explained, “I don’t have a laptop, or a PC. I go to the office if I need to go online, borrowing my supervisor’s desk usually. They gave me a fax machine for the workshop, and I get job details sent to me on it, not via email or anything. And I don’t really do the paperwork or spreadsheets myself. I do have a newish PlayStation, but I don’t want the whole TV here too. I’m not missing it. I’ve got other gadgets, I guess, like the GPS, though that’s work’s too really.”

“Well like I said, don’t worry. We can have a poke about when we get into your flat, so to speak, and just fill a few bags up with what we find. Do you want to give it a rest now? You can sit down on the sofa and maybe tell me about those things on your other list left over from this morning.”