Page 19 of The Late Bloomer’s Playlist

‘Ah, so I’m early?’

I smiled. ‘I’ll always let you know if there’s anything.’

Phil wasn’t a collector of anything in particular. Over the years he’d bought ancient telephones, distinct snow globes, and silk flowers from the shop. But he enjoyed a browse of everything, and the company was always welcome.

‘You seem…’ He looked up from the shelf he was skimming. ‘Different, somehow, today.’

I forced a laugh that came out as an awkward sound. ‘I washed my hair?’

‘No, no, that isn’t it. There’s a glow, though, I’ll give you that.’

A glow? I parroted in my head. Isn’t that phrase reserved for expectant mothers?

‘Whatever it is,’ he added, ‘it suits you.’

My phone chirped from under the counter.

Sheila: Saw these and thought of you.

The message was followed by a picture of brilliant mustard daffodils, and I smiled so wide I felt the matte of my lipstick pinch. Maybe Phil was right, I thought, maybe something about all of this was starting to suit me…