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competing for pole position – although, really, he loved everything about her body: the way she was slim but still endowed with curves that felt so good beneath the palm of his hand; the ever-clean scent of her; the constellations of pale freckles on her shoulders and breasts; the crescent-shaped scar on her hip, obtained during a childhood cycling mishap. He loved it all.
    ‘What was that?’ Kirsty opened her eyes and broke away from the kiss.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I heard a noise outside.’
    Jamie sat up, reluctantly breaking contact with her flesh. He hadn’t heard anything. He had been lost in that kiss, the rest of the world fading away in a haze of arousal. He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands, trying to remove the blur from his vision. ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Yes!’ she whispered harshly. ‘I heard someone moving around. It sounded like it came from the garden.’
    Jamie got up from the bed and crept over to the back window. He peeked out through a gap in the curtains, and a cool breeze caressed his face. He was still half-asleep, and he stood there for a second with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation but wishing it was Kirsty cooling him with her kisses.
    ‘Jamie? Can you see anything?’
    He remembered where he was and opened his eyes. He peered out at the garden, and straight away saw a shadowy figure move beneath him, a few feet from the Newtons’ back door. He ducked down beneath the windowsill and looked back at Kirsty.
    ‘There’s somebody down there,’ he whispered.
    Kirsty’s mouth formed an O and she climbed out of bed and came over to the window, walking in a curious half-crouch, her arms folded over her breasts. They knelt together on the carpet, both of them naked, as if they were offering up a prayer to some nocturnal god.
    Jamie stuck his head under the curtain and looked out again. He could see the person moving around. He didn’t think they would be able to see him, but then the moon came out from behind a cloud and the garden was illuminated. He ducked down again.
    ‘It’s Chris,’ he said.
    ‘Chris? What’s he doing?’
    A second later, they had their answer. There came the sound of rushing water: the hiss and splash of water coming out of a hosepipe.
    ‘He’s watering the bloody garden!’
    They collapsed together on the floor, trying not to laugh aloud. Jamie covered Kirsty’s mouth with his own to stop her laughter ringing out.
    A week ago, the local council had announced a strict hosepipe ban because of the hot weather. It hadn’t rained for weeks, and reservoir supplies were running alarmingly low.
    ‘Should we grass him up?’ whispered Kirsty, after they had clambered back into bed. She was still trying not to laugh, not just because she found the situation funny but also because she was relieved that they weren’t about to be burgled or murdered in their bed. She couldn’t believe how silly she’d been.
    ‘Kirsty!’
    She tutted. ‘I wasn’t being serious. It’s a bit sneaky though, isn’t it? Watering the garden under cover of darkness.’
    ‘Loads of people do it.’
    ‘Yeah. I guess you’re right. Anyway,’ she said, inching closer, giving him that look he loved so much. ‘Where were we?’
    Jamie pulled her towards him. ‘Right about here.’
    They didn’t get another full day together until Sunday. Jamie didn’t work at weekends, and Kirsty – who did – had the day off. It was another glorious, hot day and they had decided to take the train down to the coast for the day. In an hour and a half they could be in Brighton, eating greasy chips and sticky candy floss, or enjoying a drink in a seafront pub. As Kirsty got dressed, Jamie – who had been ready for almost an hour – looked out of the back window. There were Lucy and Chris, up early, working in the garden. Actually, it was just Chris doing the work. While he knelt beside the borders, pulling up weeds, Lucy stood over him, hands on hips, pointing at bits he’d missed or had yet