I woke suddenly at around five o’clock one morning about a month ago; it took a few seconds to realise that it was because a message had just arrived on my phone. Mark and Jess had taken three day old Evie to hospital; the doctor had mentioned the possibility of meningitis and they wanted me there with them. I rolled out of bed onto the floor trying not to waken my own wife and baby and stumbled round the room naked looking for clothes by the light of my phone. Jeans, shirt….. I grabbed what I could find from where I had dropped them the night before and tiptoed out of the room to get dressed downstairs.

The kitchen light was harsh on my eyes when I switched it on. It made them feel gritty and the tiles of the floor were ice cold. Through screwed-up eyelids I caught sight of myself reflected in the uncurtained window that looked out into the black, pre-dawn garden and another momentary lapse took control of my mind till it made sense of what it was receiving.

There was no underwear among the clothes I’d brought down. Did I really need any? I decided I did so I had to go back up, and by this time my soft, warm little butt was covered in goose bumps. Standing beside the bed, trying to ease open the underwear drawer without it squeaking I could sense the warmth emanating from under the blankets where Karen lay curled up and fully charged with heat. I was half tempted to grant myself another half hour wrapped around her but I knew she wouldn’t appreciate what on a previous and not dissimilar occasion she had described as a “well-chilled side of beef” slipping in between the sheets along with her. Anyway I actually wanted to be in the hospital with Mark and Jess – part of my job that I enjoy, and that I like to believe I’m quite good at.

Back in the floodlit kitchen I started to pull on clothes, and as I bent down to get my freezing feet into my shorts my nostrils caught a whiff of that unmistakably  stale smell that reminded me that I’d had sex a few hours before, and I smiled the first smile of the day.

***

The car engine broke the silence of the dark, quiet morning when I started it. The headlights picked out only the stillness of deep winter as I drove towards the city, breaking iced-over puddles and longing for the heat of the engine to finally reach my feet. The heat kicked in as I got inside the car park.