"I shouldn't be here, you know? Not in the middle of the afternoon, not when so many are about," Chris said, stifling a chuckle by clasping his hand over his mouth as David pushed him back into the hay they had been cuddling in for the past hour. His complaints were half-hearted: of course he wanted to be there with him, in his arms, his muscular frame weighing onto his chest in a way that made Chris crave more than just David's attentive hands and lips. Chris shifted his legs so they didn't lose their feeling bent underneath him, and to allow David to reach a better position also. The door of the small outbuilding they'd retreated to was closed, but it didn't have a lock. Chris knew in the back of his mind he shouldn't be so careless, but something about the way David trailed sweet kisses along his jaw, taking his time so his breath tickled his neck, made him push the logical fears aside.

"I told you, no one ever comes in here. It's used in the summer mostly." David's astray blonde fringe flopped over his forehead, brushing Chris's as he wound his arm around the back of David's shoulders, pulling him down onto him into a sensual kiss.

"I'm trusting you on that, can't imagine what excuse we'd have if one of Matthew's young farm hands came across you and me."

"You do trust me?" David asked, between worshipping Chris with his lips further.

Chris involuntarily moaned as David nipped the very tip of his earlobe. "Yes! Course," he rasped, thinking they'd have to move this to David's bedroom without being seen if he carried on like this. There were worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon and Chris was feeling good: Helen's visit yesterday had been a thankful success, his confidence had heightened and he was only to happy to bask in it – and David.

"I know you need to be going soon," David began, pulling back a little, his hair lit up like a halo due to the sunlight peeking in through gaps in the stone wall and wooden roof above. "But maybe come back later?" They kissed again. "Tonight?"

"Once they've gone, yes, I'll be here." Chris sighed with pleasure, not just from David, but from the fact that he had so much to look forward to for the rest of the day. His sister and nephew would be visiting soon, and now he had a night with his boyfriend. He reached forward, grabbing onto the lapels of David's partly open shirt. "You're so good to me, you know? I love you." He tugged sharp on David's shirt, and David tumbled back down next to him. Chris took the opportunity to swap their positions. "You really are." He caught David's lips with his own in an exchange of heated kisses. "So good."

Hector barked outside the door. The door swung open as the dog pushed his way into the small building. "Hector go away," David said, feebly swatting in the vague direction of the farm dog. Hector remained sat with a quizzical expression, head cocked slightly to the left.

"You need to teach that dog the meaning of privacy," Chris joked, giggling into David's neck.

The door flung open again. Small footsteps ran inside. "What are you doing?"

Chris and David froze, caught red handed as another inquisitive intruder stopped watching them. A young boy stood, thumb in mouth, looking between them both and Hector with a curious frown.

Chris fell off David, half-stumbling, half-shuffling back away from him, not taking his eyes off the child for a second, who's expression hadn't changed. "I-err, that is we..." He shot a pleading look at David, hoping he'd have the right answer.

David was equally as useless, still lying back on the hay, hands propping him up. "We were..."

"Alfie!" a woman shouted from outside.

Chris and David looked between each other.

"Alife!" the woman repeated, louder this time as she approached. Chris stood just in time before she appeared at the open door also. "Alfie, there you are, your grandfather is looking for—" She stopped upon setting eyes on them both.

"They were play fighting mum," Alife chirped, excitedly. "I know they weren't really fighting, cause he was laughing." The boy pointed at Chris, who had no idea where to look or what he should say in response...or if he should say anything at all. Chris's hand twitched, fighting to resist the instinctive reaction to offer his hand to David and pull him up. He clenched it into a fist instead.

The woman, a few years younger than them with fair skin and short hair, as per the new fashions, observed them both keenly for a moment, before her expression relaxed into a friendlier manner. "David Mortimer I presume?" she asked, looking at Chris.

"No, that will be me." David pushed himself up, brushing off dust and stray straws of yellowing hay. "This is Chris...Webster. He's my...he's a friend and was helping me with..." David glanced over the sparse space, ending with the exposed wooden beams of the roof. "He's helping me fix the roof. I slipped and pushed him over – that's the laughing Alife heard."

Chris sighed inwardly. No way would she believe that.

"But he was on top of you," Alfie declared with a childlike sense of triumph that he was right. "He was mum."

"I dare say it doesn't matter anyhow Alfie. No one is hurt are they?" She spoke with seriousness for the sake of appearances, but a twitch in the corner of her lip, gave her real emotions away. "Now go and find your grandfather, he's going to feed the chickens and thinks you'd like to help?"

The boy had settled himself down on the floor playing with Hector's tail, who lay patiently next to him. "Yes!" Alfie sprung up and was already out the door before he called for Hector to join him.

"You're Emily Tomlinson? Matthew's daughter?" David asked.

"I am Mr Mortimer, though I'm Emily Walker now."

"Alfie, your son? He seems like a good kid...curious too."

Emily tutted in jest, smiling fondly. "Too much for his own good I'd bet! I'm sorry he interrupted you both."

"It's not a problem Mrs Walker, we were only sorting the roof, and some banter got in the way," Chris said. His words sounded smooth as he spoke them, since he had no choice but to go along with David's lie. In reality though, he felt as though he was being read like an open book.

"This roof then...my father never mentioned any roofs that needed fixing?"

"Fixing might be the wrong word, maintaining more like." David cleared his throat.

"Looks fine to me."

"Well, we've finished sorting it now." Chris felt more and more exposed by the second.

"Can I speak frankly?"

"If you must," Chris croaked on account of his suddenly drying mouth and throat.

"You should lock the door, or find somewhere that indeed has a lockable door, if you are to playfight as my son suggested?" Emily smirked, raised eyebrows giving them a knowing look, but by no means one of threat.

Chris tried to relax: this was Matthew's daughter, he could see her father's expressions in her own face. They had nothing to fear from her. He hoped not from Alfie either. He'd had little experience with children, but generally found that they were kinder than most adults with regard to his secret. "We'll bear that in mind."

"And your son?" David asked, echoing Chris's thoughts.

"I raise him in the same way my father raised me concerning this subject. I know kids can talk, but he saw nothing he knows to be a problem. He'd likely have forgotten it anyway. It's the first day of our visit here, and he's been excited for days. We'll be here for a week or so, and I expect I'll be seeing more of you both? But I'll leave you to it for now."

After Emily had left, they both stood watching the door, Chris waiting before he spoke to make sure she'd gone. "Fixing the roof?" he said. "Really?"

"It was the best I could think of on the spot." David shrugged with an abashed expression. "I usually think of you as the quick thinking liar...no offence."

Chris shrugged, smirking whilst biting his lower lip. "None taken."

...

It had taken a good deal of time whilst walking back from the farm to his cottage for Chris to stop smiling and occasionally chuckling to himself over the incident with David at the farm. Getting caught was never fun – usually his reaction would be the complete opposite – but Emily was Matthew's daughter and the striking resemblance of her reaction to almost seeing them together to that of her father, brought with it enough reassurance to allow Chris to finally see the funny side to something that – if the world was fairer and less nosy – was nobody's concern.

His mind had been taken off the subject by the arrival of Helen and little Chris. The visit had been easier than the first, since they had broken the ice and were able to spend their time happily chatting, exchanging memories and making new ones, instead of filling the gaps in what they had missed over the years. Since the weather had been fine, they'd taken tea outside and sat in the garden with the birds tweeting in the hedgerows at the far end – a peaceful sound that had only been interrupted by Helen's distinctive laugh when Chris had shown her where he kept a couple of bottles of brandy buried in a patch in the flower boarder.

Standing on the doorstep waiting for Helen to settle her son into the pram Chris smiled at the memory, just one he hoped to add more too. "It wouldn't be too rude of me to ask if we can do this again before too long? I don't want to steal you away from your husband."

"I was about to suggest the same thing, and as for John, he'll live."

"What about at the end of the week? I could take some time off work though if you'd prefer sooner?" Chris asked, trying not to sound too eager – or desperate.

"Later will be fine. I don't want to interrupt your job."

"Good, I'll be in touch," he answered, walking with them down the path of the front garden, getting ready to step ahead to open the gate for her.

It turned out though that Chris needn't have rushed as the gate was already open. He frowned, swearing he'd closed it before. Behind one of the apple trees, partially hidden from view, was the reason why.

"Allow me Mrs Hastings," David said cheerily, holding the iron gate back far enough to ensure the pram could get through without scraping the sides.

"Thank you but—" Helen looked at David with a quizzical expression. "I don't think we've met?"

"Ah no, forgive me." David held out his hand. "David Mortimer, I'm a friend of Chris. He's talked about you, and your son, that's how I knew who you were...or well, I made an educated guess anyhow."

Chris watched in disbelief, not only due to how easy David made it look, greeting someone he'd never met, but also how effortlessly he lied. Chris knew it was no educated guess as David put it.

Helen shook his hand warmly. "I'm glad to have met you Mr Mortimer. My brother is a bit out of the way living here. It's good to know he's not lacking company."

"No, I make sure he doesn't," David said. Chris could have sworn he'd sent a suggestive look his way in a split second when Helen wasn't looking. His hands tensed by his sides. He couldn't believe this. "I was only passing by today, but I pop in frequently enough, or at the book shop he co-runs in the village. We keep an eye out for each other don't we Chris?"

"We do," Chris answered reluctantly, not wanting to be forced into this conversation any further than necessary. This was not how he planned David's introduction to go. He hadn't planned it to happen at all yet.

"It will be nice to see more of you Mr Mortimer."

"Oh I expect you'll see me around. I'm not far away, I live and work at the farm nearby."

"Oh that's convenient then! Perhaps sometimes we can meet as the three of us? Chris?"

"Perhaps," Chris answered, a fake smile plastered on his face for Helen's benefit.

After Helen had left, walking back down the lane and out of earshot, Chris strode forward and grabbed David by the elbow, pulling him back into the garden, close to the wall of the cottage. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"I don't know what you mean? I was only being polite Chris."

"Don't give me that," Chris snapped. "We had an agreement. You were supposed to stay away, and as for passing by, that's a load of rubbish."

"It was a coincidence."

"As if! You knew she was coming here this afternoon."

David was silent for a moment. He looked down at the ground. "Alright, not a coincidence."

"Knew it!"

"But I thought a quick introduction wouldn't hurt."

"I told you that I wanted to take this slowly. This is my situation to deal with, not yours David. You are merely a part of it."

David looked into his eyes, remaining irritatingly calm. "Last time I checked I was a big part of it, and an important part of you." He lowered his voice on the last word.

"Fine, but it's still what we agreed. I need to be careful here, you know why."

"Yes, but ask yourself Chris; are you being careful or is this hesitation because you don't want the comfortable little bubble you have here to burst? It's going well with Helen and you don't want to ruin it, I get it, but you'll be a lie to her if you never move forward."

Chris straightened himself up. "I am moving forward," he insisted, his firm but controlled tone threatening to crumble, "but unlike you I'm being cautious."

"If that's the case then perhaps I should come inside, so we're not overheard?" David suggested peering over Chris's shoulder in through the open door behind him.

"Or maybe you'd best be on your way? Since you're only passing."

David took a step backwards and gave him a curt nod. "I shall." He turned on his heel. "Shall I see you later?" he called out as he walked away.

The word 'yes' hung temptingly on Chris's lips. Despite their argument, he wanted to be with him later this evening, as they had arranged early in the day. "Who knows? Maybe," he said, his pride preventing him from being honest. He strode inside and slammed the door, throwing himself down to sit on the lower step of the stairs at the end of the hallway. His shoe collided with a painful smart as he kicked the skirting board in his irritation, both at David and himself. Was he taking it too slow? Was David right? He'd enjoyed getting to know his sister and nephew. They got on well. How could he risk that now? Chris remembered his words to David several days previous. He'd said he wouldn't choose between David and his sister. He was still determined he wouldn't, but that was never going to be as simple as he planned.