No, I'm just pleased to see you

My heart beating fast, I headed into the hallway to meet Jen at the door.

"Hello, you," I said.

"Hiya. Aw, you poor thing," she replied. "You look all flushed and hot. How are you feeling? Are you suffering with the dreaded man flu?"

That's the thing with Jen: she can't really do sympathy for very long.

"Just felt a bit crap, that's all. A headache I couldn't shake off. Had a bit of shut-eye, and just had a bath - but you probably worked that out."

"So you're not quite at death's door, then?" She moved towards me and put her arms around my waist. The towel fell to the floor.

"Oh dear," she said. "How did that happen? Better make sure you don't catch your death of cold. I think you need to go right back to bed..."

It was the best advice I'd had in a long time.



Story begins here.