Chapter Sixty-Three
Milo and I left the pub with sated appetites. We set off for our walk taking a route that encompassed swathes of fields dotted with sheep.
I kept Cindy on her lead just in case she gave chase. The last thing I wanted was my dog being responsible for distressed sheep. Several woolly faces peered at us curiously. There were a few enquiring bleats, but mostly the sheep were immersed in a busy grazing schedule.
Rambo gamely trotted along at Milo’s heels but, after a couple of miles, he ran out of steam. Milo resorted to carrying him. Cindy, a bigger dog with longer legs, gamely kept going. After some six miles, she too began to flag. To be honest, I wasn’t far behind her. My calf muscles were aching.
‘Home?’ Milo suggested.
‘I think that’s a good idea,’ I agreed.
Eventually we made it back to Starlight Lane. Rambo wriggled in Milo’s arms, then whined to be back on the ground. As he trotted alongside Cindy, Milo jerked his head at the dogs.
‘These two will sleep well tonight,’ he said.
‘I think we all will,’ I laughed.
Frankly I couldn’t wait to get back to the studio, kick off my hiking boots, and collapse on the sofa with some trash telly viewing.
‘Er, Tilly,’ said Milo, as we entered the cottage garden. ‘I need to go to Bluewater and buy a new shirt. I was thinking…’
‘Yes?’ I prompted.
‘Well, if you’re not too tired after our long walk, I wondered if you’d like to come with me. We could grab a coffee and be naughty. Really naughty. I’m thinking-’
I immediately went a bit googly-eyed. Be naughty with Milo? Really naughty? As in… him trying on a shirt, inviting me into the dressing cubicle, seeing him half naked, then Milo shrugging helplessly. “I know a changing room isn’t the most romantic of places, but can I kiss you?” Or maybe a different store all together. A bed shop. “I need to buy a new bed. Fancy testing the mattress with me?” And then being overcome with lust and grabbing me–
In the window display? Cindy interrupted. In front of passing shoppers? I KNEW you had a crush on this man, but your fantasies are becoming ridiculous.
I ignored her and instead focussed on what Milo was saying.
‘I’m thinking … chocolate cake.’
Chocolate cake? Ah, well. That was nice enough. Not as nice as Milo, but a sweet alternative.
‘Also’ – he continued – ‘I’d appreciate your guidance on which shirt to buy. I’m not a great follower of fashion and don’t want JJ later laughing at me.’
‘I can’t say I’m a great follower of fashion either,’ I said wryly. ‘But I’m happy to give my opinion.’
I thought you were knackered? said Cindy slyly.
Tired?Me?
‘Terrific,’ said Milo. ‘In which case, that’s a date.’
Omigod. A date. This time we really were going on a date!
You really aren’t.
He said it’s a date. Help! What shall I wear?
Cindy didn’t deign to answer.
‘Shall we rendezvous in’ – Milo checked his wristwatch – ‘half an hour?’
‘Perfect,’ I beamed.
‘Good,’ he smiled. ‘That gives me time to put on a clean pair of jeans and tidy myself up.’
‘Right-oh,’ I trilled, trying to tone down my euphoria. ‘See you in a little while.’
Milo gave me a small wave before heading off to his cottage. I fairly bounced into the studio. Shutting the door, I turned to Cindy, eyes shining.
‘ Eeeeep ,’ I squeaked. ‘I’m going out with Milo. Eeeeep !’ I squealed again, jumping about like Tigger.
Mum, it’s just a shopping trip.
‘I know, but even so!’ I gave a twirl of happiness. ‘Meanwhile’ – I looked at Cindy’s paws in dismay – ‘you’re muddy. Let me find a towel and clean you up.’
Five minutes later, muddy towel in the laundry basket – I really must do some washing – I headed off to the shower. Time to freshen up. Everywhere. I gave a smutty laugh. After all, who knew if this naughtiness – Milo’s word – might lead to another naughtiness. And if it did, I wanted to be prepared.
It’s amazing, when put to the test, what can be achieved. In record time, my ponytail had been replaced by a smooth sheet of blonde hair. My makeup had been refreshed and my eyes were now smoky with kohl. My face – thanks to luminous skin foundation – was flawless, and my lips were now cherry red. I was also wearing a sheer, slightly plunging, clingy black sweater. Thanks to my recent divorce diet, matching jeans showcased a trim figure. As I stood in front of the mirror assessing the overall effect , Cindy padded over.
Are you going to a funeral?
‘No,’ I answered snippily. ‘I know I’m wearing black with black’ – I withdrew some ankle boots from the wardrobe, and yes, black – ‘but it sets off my blonde hair. Also, I’m wearing red lipstick. Do you think I need more colour?’
Add some costume jewellery .
‘Good idea.’ I reached into a drawer, removed a string of brightly coloured beads, and slipped them over my head. ‘Ta da!’
That’s better.
‘Glad you approve,’ I beamed, just as Milo knocked on the door.