"Well?" Alice asked, having slipped into our room and jumped onto the bed, as soon as Edward left. She lay down across the bed, so I lay down too, propping myself up on my elbow so that we could talk face to face.

"Alice! I don't really want to give you a whole play by play."

She looked disappointed, "that's a little cruel, Bella. I rather thought you might want to help distract me, whilst Jasper is running all over the countryside with Jane."

How could I have been so inconsiderate? Alice must be desperate to have Jasper back. It probably made it a hundred times worse to be able to see everything Jasper was doing with Jane. Of course she wanted a playful distraction!

He was only out there, alone with Jane, because of me. Because I annoyed Jane and she took it out on Edward. How could I have forgotten what Jasper and Alice were going through, because of me, on Edward's behalf?

I owed her a huge apology and as much gossip as she wanted.

I don't think Alice has caught Jasper's gift (though if it can be transmitted from one vampire to another, she and Jasper have probably practised every kind of close contact that could possibly cause such a transmission), so she must have seen me decide to be more accommodating because she smiled and said, "thank you," before I said anything at all.

"How was his hand?" Alice asked first. It wasn't the question I had expected.

"What?" I said, once more demonstrating my remarkable quickness of wit.

"His hand," Alice said again, "I didn't want to look because . . . well, you were supposed to be doing things that I don't wish to see - delighted as I am to know that Edward is finally doing them, I would rather just know and not really know, if you see what I mean - so I avoided looking. But, I wondered - and it is rather strange for me to have to wonder and not actually know - if perhaps the um . . . stress relief might help with the shaking. So I came to ask you - and I cannot understand why I still don't see the answer, just me talking interminably - whether his hand was alright." She frowned at my continued confusion and tried again, "Bella, just now, before I came in, when you and Edward were being intimate, did his hand tremble?"

"Oh," I said, my whip smart thinking coming into play, "I don't know."

Alice looked ready to cry, or possibly to slap me. I don't think I will ever stop feeling useless around her. Maybe Edward has been right all along and my hormonal urges are more important than my love for him. Why else would I have been so preoccupied with carnal pleasures that I forgot all about my boyfriend's injury?

"Would you try a little harder, Bella, please?" Alice asked me in a menacingly sweet tone.

I could see why her family feared getting on her bad side.

"Um . . ." I said quickly, so that she would know I was trying, while I worked out what to say, "I don't recall his hand trembling at all."

Alice looked somewhat calmer, "did he try perform any precise movements?" she asked. Then, while I was still trying to work out a good reply, she started giggling.

I was about to ask why she was so amused, when I saw the answer for myself.

Edward was returning to the room, sandwich in his hand, black fury on his face.

"Excuse me?" he asked, in s tone that was the very opposite of asking anyone's pardon, "Alice, is it possible I misheard you?"

He knew it wasn't possible. Vampires don't mishear one another, at least not when I can hear the speaker perfectly clearly.

Alice couldn't seem to stop herself giggling.

"I think you misunderstood," I said.

Edward was still glaring.

"Um . . . it sounded rather strange, but Alice was asking something else," I went on.

"Indeed," said Edward, archly, "and what precisely" he enunciated the word very deliberately, "was Alice asking?"

I looked at Alice, but she was no help. She was giggling as if she never intended to stop.

"I can't actually tell you," I admitted, "but it was a kind thought."

Edward looked at me with hard eyes for a moment, then he chuckled slightly himself. "You are too good a friend for my wicked little sister," he said, "and far too honest and honourable for me. We don't deserve you, Bella."

He must have thought that I was just trying to cover up Alice's rude intrusive questioning, but was too honest to lie to him. Clearly, Edward has a foolishly high opinion of me.

"Still, for what it's worth, I brought you a snack," he handed it over. "Any chance we could pretend to have a bit of privacy, Alice?"

Alice had stopped giggling at last, she held out her hand and Edward courteously helped her up off the bed.

"Alright," she said, "I'll leave you kids alone. Little sister indeed!"

Edward smirked at her, "perhaps I should have said 'tiny'," he said.

"Was it a yes, Bella?" Alice asked, ignoring Edward.

Edward growled, "Alice!" And I didn't get a chance to reply.

But she must have seen something in my face or her head, because Alice sang out, "thank you, Bella," as she skipped from the room.

Edward took her place on the bed.

"Precise movements?" he muttered, "should I be worried that I don't even understand what she was asking?"

"No," I ruffled his hair, "you never need to worry about that sort of thing." He snuggled up against me and sighed happily. I took a big bite of my sandwich.

"Mind you," I said, after swallowing, "you can't very well make a big deal about wanting privacy and then demand to know the contents of my conversation with your sister."

He groaned softly, "I don't make demands," he said, "I wouldn't dare."

This image he seemed to have of himself as hard done by and submissive didn't really fit with my usual experience, but I didn't want to fight. So I kissed him instead.

While I ate my snack, Edward made himself comfortable. I love the way he settles down in one position and then stops moving. He never squirms around, crossing and uncrossing his legs. He never gets pins and needles or cramp, never has to get up and walk around. He just snuggles up and lies there. It's incredibly calming.

"Do I have to make myself scarce while you get in with the script?" Edward asked.

It would have been nice, but his tone was so reluctant I found myself saying, "no, it's fine, you can stay."

Edward snuggled up next to me. "Do I have to stand in the corner again?" he asked, deliberately sounding reluctant now since it had worked so well for him.

I laughed, "not unless you misbehave or distract me."

Unexpectedly, I found that Edward's proximity helped with the writing process. With Edward lying right there, idly fiddling with the edge of the quilt, it was only too easy to think of what I wanted to do with him.

We'd come a long way in the last couple of months. From doubting each other to the extent that we both half-expected to be dumped at any moment, to snuggling on a bed planning to lose our virginity (virginities? Is it appropriate to pluralise such a word?). It wasn't just about the progress of our physical relationship, though that was wonderful, we were more at ease with one another now. No more scrambling and guessing and panicking. We could talk about everything, and it was amazing. When we finally did the deed, as it were, I was confident that our bodies would merely be following our hearts and our minds, which were already connected.

Of course, there were a few practical matters to consider. So long as I'm human, it seems best to avoid anything that might result in me getting accidentally crushed. Since Edward might suddenly be overcome with the desire to drink my blood, he needed to have clear exit lines. So, that gave me something to start with.

"When can I read it?" Edward asked, the moment I lifted my pen from the paper.

"When it's finished, Mr Impatient. I'm just stopping to think."

He rolled over onto his back and groaned.

"Do you want me to stop before the grand finale?" I asked him.

"No, of course not, I just hate waiting."