"Right," she said over dinner, "I think we need to draw up some boundaries."

"Boundaries?" he questioned.

"Yes, boundaries. Once I go back to work next week, we're going to end up together nearly all the time. We need to have a clear plan so that we can make this work."

"Well," he said, "it sounds like you've got it all worked out. What's your plan?"

She realised how she had sounded. At work she was his boss, but at home they had to be equals. Except they were not quite equals, since it was her house they were living in. She had indeed got it all worked out, but now she realised she had to surrender her plans and give him some say, or at least let him feel like he was having some say . . . no, she really had to genuinely give him some say.

"No, we are doing this together," she replied, "what do you think? How can we keep work and home separate?"

"I'm happy with whatever you want," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Whilst she knew he probably would be, she knew she needed him to be involved. "OK," she began, realising she was going to have to provoke him into giving an opinion, "do you think we should be talking about work at 10pm?"

"God no!" he replied.

"OK," she said, "so work talk stops at 10pm?"

"How about 9pm?" he asked.

"Do you think we can always be done by 9pm?" she challenged.

"I think we ought to be," he countered.

"You're right," she conceded, "no work talk after 9pm then."

She had let him win that one. It was time to bring up the topic she really was not willing to budge on. "What about public displays of affection at work?"

"I think I know what you're going to want here," he said, willing to concede defeat after his earlier win.

She sighed, unable to honestly consent to budging on this one. "What would you want?" she asked.

"Well, maybe when no one's looking?" he asked, hopefully . . .

She sighed again. "You're not even comfortable with that, are you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"Fair enough," he said, "no touching at work. I can do that."

"Thanks," she smiled, then continued, "OK next one, do we tell the staff?"

"I don't think we can hide it from them," Eddie said.

"Really, why? Kim wouldn't gossip, would she?" Rachel asked.

"Well, they all know I'm staying here. They're going to work out soon enough that it's no longer a necessity."

"How do they know you're staying here?" she asked.

"I couldn't not tell them where I live," he said defensively, "and besides, I needed some help getting the house ready for you to come home."

"What," she said, anxious now, "who came here?"

He hesitated, knowing she was not going to take this well. Of all the people he could have asked, there were so many other options that Rachel would have felt less unhappy about. "Steph," he winced.

"Steph? You invited Steph into my house?" She was angry now. Of all people, Steph? She was probably blabbing to everyone about the state of her house and the leftover washing up.

"I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands. "I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know what you would need. Rachel honestly, she cleaned out the fridge and made me do the washing up and make your bed. Without Steph you'd have been coming home in clean clothes but with no underwear. I never even realised you would need underwear. I had to ask someone, it needed to be a woman, Steph seemed the sensible choice."

"You let Steph go through my underwear?" she shouted.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "I didn't know what else to do. I had barely slept for a week and she offered and it seemed like a sensible idea at the time!"

Rachel sighed, deflated. It all seemed so long ago that she was back in the hospital. Although it was all a daze, the one thing she remembered was that nearly every time she woke up, Eddie was there. She felt guilty. She had put him through a lot. Of course he needed some help. Of course he should not have to hide where he was living. "No," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. It's OK."

He was not expecting this. This was not just home-Rachel. This really was a different Rachel. She was not completely different, the old Rachel would also have bristled at the thought of Steph seeing her underwear. But she was a little, just a little, more relaxed about it. He moved from his chair opposite her to it beside her, put his arm around her and she leaned into him. "I am sorry," he said again, "I should have asked someone else."

"We can't change it now, can we," she said. "And besides, I'm glad I didn't have to come home without any underwear!" He thought he even saw the hint of a smile on her face.

"Let's finish this another time," he offered, "come on, sofa, film?" When she hesitated, he added, "I do know this is important. We won't leave it."

Reassured, Rachel realised she did need to relax. "I'm picking the film though," she said, smiling.