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We get in the car, and I head back toward Briarton. “We can have a couple of hours’ rest before we go out this evening,” she says.
“Yeah. I might have a snooze,” I tell her. “I’ve never slept in the afternoon before, but I’m feeling tired.”
“It’s your age,” she says.
I chuckle. “Thank you. I’m only twenty-nine.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“October the twenty-fifth.”
“Oh, a Scorpio!”
“You’re into astrology?”
She grins. “Only for fun.”
“So what are Scorpios like?”
“Bold, creative, determined, and loyal. Mysterious and mystical. Passionate and sexy.”
“You’re making it up.”
“No I’m not! You read any online description. They’re the sexiest sign.”
“Well that’s nice to know.”
“They’re also supposed to be quite jealous, but you don’t seem like the jealous type.”
“I think you should trust your partner, and I don’t believe in demanding to know where they are every hour of the day or who they’re with. That’s not to say I wouldn’t get irritated if some guy tried to chat up my girlfriend. I’m only human. That’s why I can see the advantages of being married.”
“You don’t see it as a ball and chain?”
“Not at all. It’s a warning to other men. Keep away, she’s my girl.” I glance across at her. She meets my eyes for a moment, then looks away, out of the window.
“What about you, when’s your birthday?” I ask, changing the subject.
“July the twentieth.”
“Oh, I just missed it. So what star sign does that make you?”
“Cancer. We’re sensitive and compassionate, and very domestic—we like cooking and baking, and art projects around the home. We have deep feelings, and we wear our hearts on our sleeves.”
“I’ve never believed in astrology, but that does seem to describe you.”
“You do seem like a Scorpio, too. You’re very mysterious.”
I laugh. “No I’m not. I’m an open book.”
“You are. Some men are all sport and sex, but I think you have layers.”
“I really don’t.”
“You only think about sport and sex?”
“Sport, food, technology, and sex. That’s about it.”
She giggles, and I grin.
