As soon as she tried the bedroom door, her heart sank.

It had seemed such a good idea, to put all the storage boxes into the loft. Tired of living in a mess, she’d thought it would help to get rid of anything that wasn’t needed right away. Putting the Christmas tree, suitcases and empty plastic boxes out of sight would at least be a start in getting straight and organised. Then she had been distracted by the photograph box.

Almost an hour had passed as she’d sat in the small bedroom below the loft hatch and sorted through the photographs. Although she still hadn’t managed to organise them into albums, she had at least stuck by her resolution to print photos of Belle every year. All together, they looked like one of those time lapse animations of a flower coming into bloom. Did everyone look at their child and think they were the most beautiful creature alive?

Then there were Rory’s own baby photos, and pictures of her parents. Her dad had been very handsome as a young man. There he was, collecting his athletics trophies. He could only have been about sixteen. Not much older than Belle was now. The circle of life. Rory wiped her eyes.

Maybe it was the distraction that had gotten her into this mess. Although, how was she supposed to know that the stupid loft ladder would get stuck? And what a design fault, to have the loft ladder blocking the door which opened into the room. She couldn’t get the door open with the ladder down, and she couldn’t push the ladder back up. She was well and truly stuck.

It was 2.15 p.m. on a Saturday. Belle was at Fiona’s house and wouldn’t be back until dinnertime. Charlie was visiting his mum. Rory had already considered calling her own mother, but what exactly would Sheila be able to do? Susie and Penny would have come to her rescue but, after leaving them both a voicemail, she’d remembered that they were on a shopping trip. They were intending to find Susie some new underwear in case her new relationship got to the third date. For a moment, Rory considered calling Scott, but he was to a crisis what Kate Moss was to a chocolate fountain. There would be little point. She had no other choice. As she scrolled through to find his name, she realised that her phone had automatically made it one of her frequently contacted numbers.

Within fifteen minutes, John Prince was outside the window.

Rory leaned out. ‘Thanks for coming. I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call.’

He pretended to salute. ‘I’m the fourth emergency service, Ma’am.’

‘Isn’t that the coastguard?’

‘Maybe. I’ll be the fifth, then. What is that hanging out of the window?’

Rory looked sheepish. ‘It’s a couple of old blankets tied together. I found them in the loft. I was considering trying to climb down them, but I’m not sure they would have held my weight.’ She pulled the makeshift rope back inside the window.

‘Not a bad idea, actually. It might come in handy – I’m not sure that my ladder is long enough to reach to the second-floor window. I’ve got a longer ladder at home, but I was on another job when you called.’

‘Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were working today.’ Rory’s face grew warm. Was he working Saturdays on that job he told her about? The ‘interesting’ extension for the woman who Rory had imagined to be a lookalike for Megan Fox.

‘No problem. It was just a favour for a friend. I’d pretty much finished but she was trying to press a third slice of cake onto me. You saved me from myself.’ He patted his waistline.

She? He had another female friend he helped? Of course, John wasn’t her friend: he was her handyman. Builder. Whatever. ‘Well, thanks. You’ll have to add the time to your bill.’

John pretended to write on his hand. ‘Noted. You know it’s double time on the weekends?’ He looked at her in mock seriousness.

‘Stop playing about and get me down from here.’ Not only was she feeling ridiculous and like a weak and feeble woman, she didn’t want to tell him that she’d started to need the toilet ten minutes ago.

John unbolted the ladder from his van and propped it up against the side of the building. He was right: the ladder was too short. ‘I’m going to have to go home and get my bigger ladder.’

‘No!’ Rory was really regretting the huge glass of juice she’d drunk before going up into the loft. ‘I need to get out now.’ She racked her brains for an excuse that didn’t involve her having to talk about her bladder. ‘I’m feeling claustrophobic.’

John looked sceptical, but he didn’t argue. ‘Okay, I’ll come up and try and force the loft ladder back up.’

Rory was surprised by how quickly he made it up the ladder. It was hard not to appreciate how fit and lithe he looked from this angle. When he got to the top rung, he attempted to grab the window sill, but it was just out of reach. ‘Throw down your blankets.’

She anchored the knotted blankets to the bed frame and threw them out of the window. John used them to pull himself to waist height, before swinging his legs into the open window. Impressive. He did a mock bow and then made a start on fixing the ladder. By this time, Rory was crossing her legs. ‘Can you fix it?’

John stood back and scratched his head. ‘This thing is an antique. I’m going to need to get some tools out of the van.’ He turned to go.

‘No! I need to go.’ Rory gave up the claustrophobia pretence. ‘I need to go.’

A smile of realisation dawned. ‘Oh, I see. Well, I have a bucket I can bring up from the van?’ Rory looked at him with daggers in her eyes. ‘No? Well, then I guess I have to take you back down with me.’

The ladder was steep and scary. But she was about to wet herself. Which was worse? Weeing. ‘Will you go down first?’

‘Of course. Come on.’ Expertly, John swung himself out of the window and, holding onto the blanket ladder, lowered himself onto the top rung of the ladder.

Involuntarily, Rory called out. ‘Be careful!’

John looked up and smiled. ‘Luckily for you, my Health and Safety qualification is fully up to date. Although they might take it away from me if they saw what I’m about to do.’ He tied the bottom of the blanket ladder to the top rung of the real one. ‘Out you come.’ Clumsily, Rory stuck one leg out of the window and then tried to bring the other out to meet it without falling forwards. ‘It’s easier if you back out.’

That was worse. Imagining the sight of her backside lowering downwards towards John’s outstretched arms. But his hands felt strong and capable. He guided her feet, legs and hips down towards the proper ladder. Why was she thinking about his arms? Concentrate. ‘This is scarier than I imagined.’

‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’ As they inched their way down the ladder, he stayed just behind her, his hand on the small of her back. There was a warm feeling in her stomach, and it wasn’t just her need to use the bathroom.

Finally, they were on solid ground. Rory breathed for what seemed like the first time in the last ten minutes. ‘Thank you.’

‘My goodness! How exciting, what happened?’

Oh no. Susie. She was going to make a meal out of this. Rory turned to see her excited face. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We got your voicemails.’ Penny fiddled with the button at the top of her blouse. ‘We came flying round here to save you.’

‘But it looks like someone else got here first.’ Susie tucked a stray curl behind her ear and looked John up and down admiringly.

John backed up towards his ladder. ‘Well, if you’re fine. I’ll get back to the other job. I’ll see you in the week.’

Rory felt that damn blush again. ‘Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much. I owe you, I really do.’ She turned and hissed to Susie and Penny. ‘Get inside! I am about to wet my pants!’

---

When she came out of the toilet, Penny had already put the kettle on.

Susie didn’t waste any time. ‘What were you doing in the bedroom with your builder?’

Now her bladder had been emptied, Rory had regained composure. ‘You know why. I was trapped up there. He came to…’

‘Rescue you?’ Penny had her head on one side and there were practically hearts coming from her eyes. She was as bad as Belle for a romantic story.

‘Help me.’ Rory took the cup of tea that Penny had made. ‘I got stuck in the loft and he came to help me out. No newsflash. No story. How was the shopping trip?’

Penny sighed, but Susie soon rallied when she showed Rory the contents of her shopping bag.

Rory whistled. ‘Wow! There’s nothing ambiguous about those pants.’

Susie poked out her tongue. ‘Do you think they’re too much?’

‘On the contrary, I don’t think they could be any less.’ Rory had seen G-strings before, but these were much further up the alphabet.

‘I’m really nervous.’ Susie rewrapped the pants in their tissue paper and tucked them back into her bag. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been in this position for a long time.’

‘Are you thinking about positions already?’ Rory raised an eyebrow and smiled.

‘No, seriously.’ Susie did look serious for once. ‘It’s been a while since I made it to a third date.’ Rory and Penny nodded together. They knew all about Susie’s ‘no sex until the third date’ rule. Although they weren’t convinced that she always kept to it. ‘I really like him. What if the sex isn’t good?’

‘Sex isn’t the be all and end all, is it?’ Penny tucked her skirt over her knees. ‘If someone is good company and makes you feel good about yourself, surely that’s more important?’

Susie looked at her in amazement. ‘What do you mean? Of course it is! I’m not looking for a human equivalent of the TV Times. And you can stop rolling your eyes,’ she pointed at Rory. ‘Just because you’re a born-again virgin doesn’t mean the rest of us are.’

‘Hey, don’t start picking on me just because you’re feeling nervous. I never said I didn’t like sex.’ It was true. With the few men Rory had met in the last fifteen years, it had never been the sex part that she had a problem with. It was the rest of it.

Susie blew her a kiss. ‘I’m sorry. I just really like him and I don’t want to mess it up.’

Rory couldn’t help thinking that she could have used those very words herself.