Tom sat up suddenly, face flushed and dark hair flopping forward. He pushed it back from his face. "God, sorry, sorry—I shouldn't have done that."

I propped myself up on my elbows. "No need to apologise. I hope I've not made you..."

He grabbed my hand, squeezing the fingers so hard the ring on my right hand dug in and I yelped.

"Sorry, sorry!" He relaxed the pressure but kept hold of my hand.

"Sophie, when I suggested moving in, it was a spur of the minute thing. The news on Thursday morning made it obvious what was coming. I sat in that pub while the world collapsed around us and I wanted to—"

My heart hit the floor. "Are you regretting it? It's not too late to leave. The Government hasn't yet ordered everyone to stay in place. You can go back to your flat and—"

The day had surprised me. Sure, I'd fantasised over the years about sharing my life with someone. But it had always seemed so complicated. Whatever pictures I tried to sum up would be accompanied by endless 'but you would need to do this', 'allow someone to see that' scenarios that made the prospect of sharing such a turn-off.

And yet when Tom had arrived earlier this evening, the doubts melted away. This was right, right, right...

He put his hand on my mouth, shushing me. "No, don't be daft. But I overestimated me willpower. I thought I'd move in, tell you about me quaint religious views even though I am okay with sex before marriage just not right away and everything would be grand. You and me, curling up together on the sofa. Fine with just the cuddling and kissing thing."

The hand moved, fingers trailing a line from my temple to my jaw. "Even though me body's screamin' at me to do a whole lot more."

The sentence made me glow from top to toe.

On the TV, the actors had moved on from the steamy sex scene to fleeing a crazed gunman. "Maybe we should steer clear of the mucky stuff on TV," I said, pointing the remote at the screen and changing the channel.

"Yeah." He bit his bottom lip. "PG-rated from now on. Come here."

I snuggled up and he kissed the top of my head. "There is something else I need to confess. Worse than the Catholic thing."

Oh-oh. I stilled. What now? But then, the secrets I kept were likely to outweigh whatever he confessed. The terrible, terrible...

He turned to look at me—that gorgeous grin that made his face light up back in place. "How d'you feel about Minecraft...?"

"I don't know anything about it, Nerd Guy."

"Time we changed that, right?"

Having fetched my iPad, I set it on my knees as Tom sat behind me and I nestled into him.

"I want a glamorous avatar," I said, once the game was installed on my iPad.

"Are you fishing for a compliment? Is this the bit where I reply, 'You don't need a glamorous avatar—and it's skin, not avatar—you're beautiful?' Because I'm not going to."

"Why not? You should."

He responded by squeezing his thighs against mine. The hedges surrounding my garden guaranteed privacy and the curtains in the living room were open. We were reflected in the French window. Tom's chin rested lightly on my shoulder and his arms encircled me—the perfect picture to any outsider.

"The basics," he said, touching the screen. "You find the raw materials and tools and build your own world, which everyone needs to do right now, eh?"

Sixty minutes later, I considered myself a Minecraft expert, having deftly survived building a shelter while fighting off hostile mobs. "Now can we play together?" I asked, but he shook his head. "You'll get sick of these words, but I need to go to bed. Early start. This part of Glasgow is a lot further away from the depot, so I need to get up at four o'clock."

Four o'clock!

"Is living here inconvenient?"

"Not at the moment. There are so few cars on the roads. The BBC website says we're back to 1970s levels of traffic. Wherever you're going takes hardly any time at all."

True. Yesterday, the bird song in the garden struck me; the sound no longer disguised by the chuntering of cars, buses and vans up and down Queen Margaret Drive.

He stood up, extending a hand to haul me to my feet. I tipped my head up for a kiss. He settled for a peck at the side of my mouth. At the top of the stairs, we dropped hands—me standing in front of the door to my bedroom, him outside the other room.

"And this is your spare room?" he raised an eyebrow as he pushed open the door, eyes darting over tis space.

Fair enough. The room was generously sized enough to hold a king-size bed, an old-fashioned dressing table with a TV on top, wooden chair and a free-standing, full-length mirror.

Each bedroom had a theme. This one was sea. The back wall was turquoise blue, matched to the colour of a carpet so thick feet sank into it. More swirly blues and greens on the bed linen added to the effect.

"Yes. There are clean towels in the bathroom. And toiletries. Help yourself."

He nodded, the gesture going on a few seconds too long.

Soon, I promised myself. I'll tell him about the circumstances around my inheritance.

Tom scratched his head. A time to leave signal. "I'll let meself out quietly in the morning," he said. "You won't hear anything."

Those earlier fantasies where he tip-toed out of a too-warm bed, me sleepy-eyed and reluctant to let go... "No, don't. Come in and say goodbye to me."

Another kiss—this one the kind applied to the tips of fingers and blown across a space. I closed the door to my room and leant on it. A strange, wonderful day, its novelty of immuring me from the world around us.

The rapidly rising Covid-19 cases in the UK and the growing death tolls in nearby countries that were an indicator of things to come, businesses closing left, right and centre...

For the moment, none of it touched me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE - thanks to @priixya for the Minecraft info... any mistakes are my own.