Chapter Forty-One
When the alarm went off on Friday morning, I felt beyond bleary-eyed. And then I remembered what day it was.
Today was the day I was moving in with Milo Soren. Well, not moving in with him, but you know what I mean. Soon I would be ensconced at the end of his garden. Perhaps he would knock on the door around seven o’clock. See how I was. Suggest a takeaway together? Or wait, he might have his son there. Perhaps the three of us could have a curry all together. And later – after I’d gone home – JJ would turn to Milo and give him some frank man-to-man straight talking.
‘Pops! Stop swiping right. Instead, focus on the gorgeous single woman living mere feet from you.’
Yes, something like that anyway. And Milo would look at his son in amazement. His eyes would widen.
‘Omigod, JJ. You’re right. Up until now, I simply thought of Tilly as a rather annoying female. But the scales have fallen from my eyes.’
‘Good. In which case, are you going to ask her out?’
‘I’d like to, son. But I don’t want to frighten her off. She’s not long out of a disastrous marriage. I’ll have to tread carefully. Woo her gently.’
I sprang off Lisa’s sofa with an alacrity that wasn’t the norm. My back gave a twang of protest. It wasn’t used to skippy behaviour. I instantly reined in the manic joy. The last thing I wanted was a sudden slipped disc. Although…
I paused for a moment. Allowed myself a small daydream. Me with a dodgy back. Prostrate on Milo’s bed – after having collapsed prettily upon it.
Or, hang on. Why would I be in Milo’s bedroom? No, that didn’t work. We’d need to be in the garden accommodation. Yes, perhaps, after dinner with Milo and JJ, I’d had a spot of bother converting the sofa into a pullout bed. The mechanism had jammed. I’d had to return to the cottage and ask Milo to help me. JJ had miraculously disappeared. Gone to see Polly. An urgent request to help change a beer barrel. Or similar. So, together, Milo and I had walked to the summerhouse.
‘See,’ I would say, pointing to the offending lever/button/knob. ‘It’s stuck.’ I’d give it a wiggle by way of demonstration. And then; ‘Ouch, my back!’
‘What’s wrong with your back?’
‘I think I’ve slipped a disc.’
Actually, no, not a disc. That was rather dire. I knew someone who’d done the same and been in agony. Had to have two operations. I didn’t want to be out of action for weeks on end. Or in agony. Rewind.
‘Ouch, my back!’
‘What’s wrong with your back?’
‘I think I’ve pulled a muscle. Ooh, ouch, ouch.’
Cue soft music. Rose light fills the room as…
Milo manfully instructs Tilly what to do : ‘Lean on me.’
Tilly obeys and receives a belting zinger : ‘Like this?’
Milo receives a belting zinger in the trouser region : ‘Lean harder!’
Tilly vibrates from a second zinger : ‘Ooh…’
Milo suffers uncontrollable trouser steepling : ‘Ahhh…’
Tilly looks up wantonly : ‘Milo…’
Milo gasps : ‘My darling. I want to make passionate love to you.’
Tilly puckers up : ‘Yes, yes, yes!’
‘Are you okay, Tilly?’ said a bemused voice.
My eyes snapped open. I turned to see Lisa standing there. She had her hands on her hips and was regarding me curiously.
‘Fine,’ I squeaked.
‘You looked like you were kissing the air,’ she said, eyebrows raised.
‘ Nooo . I was simply lost in thought. Thinking about everything to do today. Closing my eyes helps me concentrate.’
‘Does it indeed,’ she muttered, moving to the kitchen area.
‘I thought you were having a lay-in,’ I said, keen to change the subject.
I headed over to the backdoor and let Cindy out for a wee.
‘I am,’ said Lisa, reaching for the kettle. She stuck it under the tap and blasted water into it. ‘I’m making Juan and me a cup of tea. Then going back to bed for an hour.’
‘Budge over,’ I said, coming up alongside her. I removed one of Cindy’s upturned food bowls from the drainer. Locating a tin of dog food, I forked some meaty chunks into the bowl.
‘Poo, that stuff pongs,’ said Lisa, wrinkling her nose. ‘Want a cuppa?’
‘Please,’ I said gratefully. I set the bowl down on the floor, then let Cindy in. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’ll quickly use the bathroom first. I promise to have the fastest shower in history while you’re waiting for that kettle to boil.’
‘Fine,’ Lisa nodded. ‘Something’s certainly coming to the boil,’ she added under her breath. I pretended not to hear and scampered off to the smallest room in the house. Seconds later her voice floated after me. ‘And don’t get in a lip lock with the shower nozzle.’