Page 17 of The Late Bloomer’s Playlist

Stevie Wonder

SIGNED, SEALED, DELIVERED (I’M YOURS)

The message alert dinged, and I snatched at the handset how a woman ten years older than me might snatch at a yellow-stickered item in Tesco. I was hungry for what Sheila might say next – and I wasn’t proud of it. But somewhere in the last week I’d come to thrive on these daily exchanges of ours. The odd Good morning message, the occasional How was your day? at the end of it. And in between that, the innocuous exchanges of minute details: Sheila enjoyed renovating furniture; Sheila’s favourite colour was lavender (of course, for a gay, she joked, which was a reference I had to google); Sheila played seven musical instruments–

‘And what have we garnered about Sheila today, hm?’ David handed me a hot chocolate before crossing to the sofa and settling with his own. It had become a strange information exchange at the end of each evening. I would tell David, in gushing tones, how Sheila loved classical music but also liked contemporary pop, how she adored fish and chips for the sheer fact that she was never allowed it as a child, how she nursed her ailing mother in a similar way to how I’d nursed mine. And at the end of every exchange, he would inevitably ask: ‘Have you asked her to dinner yet?’

I huffed like a disgruntled teenager. These early days of romance had made me everything from an old woman – Little Mix had been another of Sheila’s references, which had aged my musical tastes considerably – to a yuppy child. ‘No, David’ – I threw the handset down next to me – ‘I have not asked her to dinner yet.’

‘Patti, it’s been a week.’

‘That’s no time at all.’

‘Don’t be absurd, in the space of a week I can do dinner, have sex, and never speak to a woman again.’

‘I don’t know that that’s anything to be proud of,’ I answered with a raised eyebrow.

‘That really comes down to who you ask.’

‘David’ – I stared into my drink as I spoke, unable to face the wanton vulnerability of what I knew was coming – ‘has it crossed your mind that Sheila just mightn’t like me in person?’

A disconcertingly long silence stretched out before he answered. He was so quiet for so long that I actually looked up again, to check he was still in the room with me. But it turned out that direct eye contact had been what he was waiting for. David fixed me with a soft stare and an easy smile and said, ‘No.’

He set his drink down on the squat coffee table and moved to where I was tucked up in my chair. Awkwardly, he positioned himself on what little space there was available, precariously balanced on the edge of the arm, and leaned over to tuck himself around me. The warmth of him, and the hot chocolate I was still cradling, was everything I’d needed. I almost didn’t want him to say anything, lest he ruin the moment.

‘Patti,’ he spoke into the crown of my head, ‘you are unequivocally the best woman I’ve ever met. There is nothing not to like about you, my dear girl.’ He kissed my hair. ‘Why do you think I married you?’

‘Oh, David…’

‘I know.’ He answered in a tone that was almost tinged with disappointment. ‘Don’t tell anyone, will you?’

I reached up to tap his hand. ‘It’s our secret.’

‘You’re a love.’

‘Although, you do raise another concern.’

‘Hm, and what’s that?’ He moved and stood in the centre of the room; hands on hips.

‘How do I explain to her that I’m married?’

David’s expression dropped. He looked as though I’d wet fish-slapped him. ‘You’re being absurd again.’

‘Be fair now, I have to tell her.’

‘Why?’ His voice peeked an octave. ‘I don’t tell anyone and it never causes me any harm! Speaking of which.’ He checked his watch. ‘I have an engagement tonight so…’

I rolled my eyes. ‘So don’t offer anyone breakfast in the morning.’

‘So don’t offer anyone breakfast in the morning,’ he echoed as he padded out of the room. ‘Feel free to tell her you’re my wife, though,’ he shouted back, ‘that’s still okay.’

* * *

Sheila: Honestly, I’ve never felt so concerned for my safety in all my life.

Patti: How did you even get out of that situation?

Sheila: I explained that I didn’t take German at O Level.