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‘You’ve got it.’ Amrita looked back at him, and her smile was filled with approval that sparked something deep within Jamie – another mini explosion of recognition and welcome for her energy. ‘Good access shouldn’t just be about compliance – it should be about true integration.’

‘Unapologetic access makes life better all round.’ He scribbled the words across the corner of the design, and ringed them a couple of times for good measure.

‘Exactly.’

Amrita’s smile grew brighter, and Jamie’s magic flared hotter. Papers around them rustled in a non-existent breeze, and he could see glowing lines on older sketches starting to rearrange themselves to please Amrita further. STOP IT! he thought fiercely as she looked round, a bit confused.

‘So, we’ve got the approach sorted – what next?’ He hoped to distract her from the tiny, shadowy movement he only half-thought he saw but entirely hoped he hadn’t. But the little tinkle of barely heard laughter and indecipherable speech – accompanied by a puff of glittery dust that quickly faded – was unmistakable.

‘Did you hear something?’

‘Probably just office cleaners.’ She’s not from here, he thought fiercely, hoping the message would get through to his unwanted guests. She wouldn’t understand. Stop. Please. Go away! To Amrita, hoping to keep her attention, he asked, ‘What do you think about the inside?’

‘It’s very pretty.’

‘I already recognise that tone… Go on, let me have it.’

She shot him a brief look, as though trying to decide if he really meant it.

‘Honestly, I can handle a bit of constructive criticism. I promise I’m listening. This time.’

Her eyes narrowed slightly, glinting with what he hoped was amusement. ‘OK… The entrance is very bright and a lovely open space, especially given the size of the building. Which would usually be a good thing, but as Sylvie’s illness progresses, it might be more helpful to consider where mobility supports like grabrails can be built in now or added later – preferably without it looking too obvious.’

‘Because good access shouldn’t be an afterthought.’ He nodded and scribbled a quick idea. ‘How about something like this?’

‘It looks good. Seating would be helpful too, so she can easily put shoes on and take them off. And shelves, so if she comes in carrying something, she doesn’t have to bend to put it down on the floor or pick it up.’

‘Something like this, maybe? So, we’re building in things to keep her independent for as long as possible.’

‘Exactly.’ There was another of those magic-flaring smiles. ‘Next area?’

‘Sure.’ Jamie nodded and stood – using the excuse of sharpening a pencil to quickly slam shut the desk drawer that he could see creeping open. ‘Sorry. Old desk. Sticks sometimes.’

‘Right. OK.’ Amrita watched him like she was trying to figure something out.

‘What do you think about the kitchenette?’

‘Pop-up or under-counter power points would be good – so Sylvie doesn’t have to stretch more than she needs to, and adjustable counters that she can use standing on her good days, but drop when she needs to be seated.’

‘I like that.’ Jamie nodded, making the note. ‘Same for the table?’

‘Ideally.’

They went back and forth a while longer, sketching and annotating the plans, with Jamie doing his best to ignore the increased mutterings coming from under his desk. He had no idea why they had decided to bother him today of all days. Usually the horseshoes kept them away, and he certainly hadn’t been talking about them or laying down challenges. It wasn’t even close to midsummer. He wondered what – or who – had invited them in, and more importantly what he’d have to do to encourage them to leave. It wasn’t that they were dangerous – usually – but they could be pesky, mischievous characters not the least bit helpful to running a business.

Not to mention the problems they could cause Amrita.

Eventually, after she and Jamie had doodled and annotated almost every page, Amrita stopped and stretched. The clang of pesky pixies colliding with his wastepaper bin drew her eyes to the corner of the room.

‘Old building?’ Jamie offered, a poor attempt at explanation.

Her eyes narrowed again before fixing back on his. ‘OK. And does this creaky, banging old building of yours have toilets?’

‘Right out of here and at the end of the corridor.’

‘Thanks.’

He jumped to hold the door open for her, was rewarded with another smile, then closed it firmly.