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opened it and switched on the immersion heater. ‘It’s glowing red.’
    Helena went into the kitchen and turned on the tap. ‘And we have water. Switch off the heater or we’ll run up a bill before you’ve even moved in. ‘
    Ned returned to the living room, picked up the carton she’d brought in, and hauled it into the downstairs bedroom.
    She followed him and watched him open it. ‘What are you doing?’
    â€˜Making us a bed.’ He lifted out the hangings, towels and cheap Indian bedspreads they’d brought from Bristol, and spread them over the floor.
    â€˜There are no curtains. Anyone can see in.’
    â€˜Not here, at the back. The houses behind us are too low down the hill.’
    â€˜We’re supposed to be making a list of what we need and measuring for curtains and carpets.’ Her protest was half-hearted, even before he kissed her again.
    â€˜We haven’t celebrated your new job yet.’ He caressed the sensitive skin below her ear, something she’d never been able to resist.
    â€˜We have so much to do …’
    â€˜None of it can be done on a Sunday afternoon when the shops are closed.’
    â€˜The cleaning and measuring can.’
    â€˜I’d prefer to measure these.’ He slid his hands along her legs, moving gently upwards to her thighs, over her tights and under her skirt.
    â€˜You’re seducing me.’ She allowed him to unbutton the jacket of the suit she’d worn to church.
    â€˜Now that I no longer have to work shifts in the hospital, it’s a new John tradition. Sunday love-ins.’ He unzipped her skirt and it fell in a puddle at her feet. He slipped the pearl buttons of her blouse from their loops. ‘Will you take your tights off, or shall I?’
    â€˜I will. You always ladder them.’
    He watched her wriggle out of them as he unbuckled the belt on his jeans. ‘I love seeing you in knickers and nothing else, especially those green ones.’
    Â â€˜I know you do.’ She dropped her tights on top of her skirt.
    â€˜So you wore them in the hope that I’d undress you?’
    â€˜You bought me twelve pairs for my birthday, remember? And threw all my others out.’
    â€˜So I did.’ He tugged her silk panties downwards. ‘You look fabulous in them, but even more fabulous out.’
    â€˜At this rate we’ll never get the house finished.’
    He tossed the last of his clothes on top of hers. ‘What house?’ Then he pulled her to the floor on top of him.
    â€˜This is the last, Father O’Brien.’ Magda carried a large flat box of sausage rolls from the shop.
    â€˜I’m glad to hear it. The car is full, as the Sunday school scholars will be after eating all these baked goods.’ The priest loaded the box carefully on top of the others on the back seat of his car.
    â€˜I’ll see to the doors then I’ll be with you.’ Magda took her keys from the pocket of her cardigan, then found herself struggling with the lock. The keyhole suddenly seemed to be too small for the key. And even after she managed to insert it she found it difficult to turn. She checked and double-checked the door, as well as the separate entrance to the flat, while Father O’Brien sat waiting for her in his Morris 1000. Finally, sensing his impatience, she opened the passenger door and sank down beside him.
    â€˜Are you all right, Magda?’ the priest asked in concern when she held her head in her hands.
    â€˜It’s just a headache. I get them from time to time. I’ll be fine once I take a pill.’
    â€˜It’s the stress you’ve been under lately, on top of working in the shop. Getting in a state over Helena’s examinations, when everyone said she’d graduate with honours, which is exactly what the girl did. Not to mention panicking as to whether or not she’d get a job and look how well she’s done for