Page 29 of The Late Bloomer’s Playlist

Another thirty minutes rolled by with appreciative noises and swapped small talk as we admired – and in my case gawked – at the remaining artworks. Despite my initial reservations – by which I mean, my outright and embarrassing shock – the entire thing had been quite beautiful. Though I couldn’t say whether it was the exhibition itself, or the person I was sharing it with. Either way, I thought it might have been the most remarkable first date I’d had in my life.

We came to a gentle stop arm in arm outside the gallery. Sheila turned to face me and she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear that I didn’t know had worked loose.

‘Seven,’ she said, bluntly and with no context. It wasn’t until I frowned that she added, ‘And it wasn’t all at once.’

‘Oh. Oh.’

‘And you?’

I swallowed hard and heard the gulp of it hit my throat. Fifteen, but I’m not going to admit that to you. I’d always thought fifteen wasn’t a bad number, especially for someone who hadn’t had a relationship that lasted long enough for labels, living together, or long-term companionship – all of which I quietly blamed my mother for. Besides which, living with David for so long made me feel like a virgin by comparison. But now, staring Sheila in the eye, suddenly fifteen felt shameful. Too many, far too many. So I did the only thing that any sensible woman could do and–

‘Five.’

–I lied.

Sheila’s eyebrows pulled together as she smirked. ‘Fibber. But that’s okay.’ She leaned forward and softly brushed my cheek with a kiss that was all air, but somehow left a weight of feeling on me. ‘You don’t have to tell me. Maybe you’ll tell me the real number when we have dinner.’

‘Dinner?’

‘Hm.’ She smiled. ‘It’s the meal people usually have at the end of the day. Tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow?’ I was running the risk of sounding like a parrot, so I knew I needed to say more. But even my tongue felt prickled with nervous energy. I suddenly wished that I’d run to a third drink; to ease my dry mouth or give me Dutch courage, either would have done.

‘Do you know Yuzu’s, in town?’

I managed a nod, forced out a ‘Mhm.’

‘Fantastic. Seven tomorrow night?’ She reached forward and cupped my cheek. ‘So very, very fond.’ Sheila smiled as she stepped away from me and turned in the direction that she’d come from on meeting me earlier. ‘I had a fine old time tonight, Patti,’ she shouted back and turned to flash me another smile. ‘A fine old time.’

‘Me too,’ I managed. ‘Thank you!’

I made it three whole steps to the bench in front of me before my legs gave way. I was grinning like a wild person as I fumbled for my phone to call Janet. There was already a message there waiting for me, too. David, from two hours earlier: Don’t forget to use protection. But before I could prepare a witty and scathing response – which given my state might have taken some time – the handset lit up with another notification.

Sheila: xxx

And I felt every kiss right down to my belly.