Million Love Songs(52)

I miss Joe. That’s the truth of the matter. I think about him a lot. When I’m in bed – even though cardboard cut-out Gary Barlow is available – when I’m in the bath, when I’m serving in the pub. Which means that a lot of diners are inadvertently getting someone else’s chips by mistake. My bad.

Before work, Charlie and I sit on what we lovingly call ‘our bench’ and discuss the situation. It’s pushing on towards summer with a vengeance and Jay has put out a load of new hanging baskets all round which look a bit pathetic now, but I’m sure will soon be heavy with the type of flowers you put in hanging baskets. Gardening isn’t among my skill set either, in case you were wondering. He bought one too many, so had a spare which he’s put round by the bins to cheer up our ‘office’, as he calls it.

‘You’re as miserable as sin,’ Charlie remarks as she vapes. ‘Look at you. Just because I’m sworn off men, it doesn’t mean that you still can’t dabble.’

‘I dabbled with Mason Soames and look where that got me.’

‘Ben behind the bar says he’s been doing the Grand Prix season. I don’t even know if that’s a thing. Apparently, he’s jetting off here, there and everywhere to watch the racing.’ She looks at me bewildered. ‘Why do that when you can watch it on telly?’

‘Atmosphere,’ I say knowingly when, in reality, I know nothing at all.

Charlie rolls her eyes.

‘Besides, it’s not Mason that I miss.’ Though I do wonder how Ben behind the bar knows his every move when I, who have recently shared his bed, don’t. ‘I like him and we have a great laugh together, but he’s not relationship material. Joe on the other hand …’ I take the opportunity to go all dreamy.

‘Is a family man with a whole heap of commitments,’ Charlie chips in.

Trust reality to intrude.

‘You’ve not met these mythical kids yet?’

‘We haven’t even really had a proper date. It’s far too soon to be thinking of all that.’

‘You might hate them. They could be little shits. The kind of kids who run around restaurants and cough with their mouths open.’

‘They’re teenagers. Wouldn’t they be past that?’

‘Teenagers?’ Charlie shudders as if I’ve said ‘axe murderers’. ‘They might have even worse habits.’

‘I like kids,’ I tell her, even though I’m not really sure that I do. ‘At my age, I’m not going to find that many men without them.’

‘Except the Shagger Soameses of the world.’

‘Indeed.’

‘So you like Joe. Make the first move. He might just need a little persuasion if he’s been out of the dating game since the time when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. It’s pants out there. If you wait for him to come to you, it might never happen.’

‘That thought is too depressing.’ I pull a leaf off the hanging basket and set about tearing it into pieces. ‘He said he’d phone me for coffee, but weeks have gone by and he hasn’t.’

‘Maybe he’s got cold feet? Maybe he needs a little persuasion? It shows you that he was up for it, if he said that.’

Charlie could be right. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Then grasp the whatsit by the horns. We’re modern women,’ she states, ‘we should take the initiative. Bake him some cakes. They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’

‘Yeah, perhaps I should have knocked up a Victoria sponge for Mason rather than have a threesome with him.’

‘Thank goodness it wasn’t a threesome and Victoria sponge. That would have been too weird.’ Charlie laughs and it lifts my mood.

‘I’m no domestic goddess,’ I confess. ‘I can’t bake to save my life. I don’t think I’ve actually switched on the oven since I moved into the granny annexe. I’m a microwave kinda gal.’

‘For heaven’s sake, woman, use your imagination,’ Charlie says. ‘Buy some cake from Sainsbury’s. Take them to that place where he works as a pressie for the residents. Show him your sharing, caring side rather than your pants.’

I hate to admit it, but that sounds like a damn fine idea and I wonder why I didn’t think of it myself.





Chapter Forty-Three





So the next day, before I’m due on shift, I find myself buying nice cakes in Sainsbury’s. Not the ones in boxes down the aisles, but proper ones from the bakery – cupcakes with little fiddles and twiddles on them – squares of fudge, drizzles of sweet sauce, chocolate flakes and mini marshmallows.

As I turn up at the Sunshine Woods community campus, I can see that Joe is helping a group of the younger residents to tidy up the raised flowerbeds in the garden. Armed with my supermarket-bought cakes, I feel nervous as I walk towards him. Yet when he glances up and sees me, he smiles widely – and looks more than a little surprised.

‘Hi,’ I say. ‘I come bearing gifts.’

‘Anyone with cake is welcome,’ Joe says and leans on his fork. ‘I’m just showing the guys some gardening skills. We’re currently struggling to differentiate between a weed and a flower.’

‘You too!’ one of the young men says, affronted.