Was she serious right now? How do I get rid of this woman? I should know by now that Patty only leaves when Patty is good and ready to leave.

  ‘Actually, Gabriel, while you’re here I could use your opinion,’ Patty said. I didn’t like where this was going. ‘Someone with a fresh set of eyes. You see, I’ve mentioned my niece – Samantha, gorgeous girl – to Arthur here a few times.’

  A few times? A few times! I’ve lost count how many times she’s tried to set me up with this poor niece of hers. Patty just won’t let it go. I’m sure Samantha’s lovely, but I refuse to play along because I’m not interested, and that’s not fair on the girl.

  I couldn’t help but grimace. Gabriel noticed. Oops.

  ‘I think they would make the most beautiful couple. But Arthur is maybe a tad shy? He keeps batting away my offers, like he doesn’t think he’d be suitable for her or something. Can you believe that?’ Patty said, in apparent disbelief.

  I know what you’re thinking. Simple solution: tell her I’m gay. That would be an efficient way to put a stop to her well-meaning harassment. But you can’t mention anything to Patty – our resident gossipmonger – unless you’re ready for the whole neighbourhood to know. And as we all know – or don’t, for that matter – I’m not ready.

  And knowing my luck Patty will have a single gay nephew squirrelled away somewhere too. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

  ‘Now, Gabriel, you’ve only just met our Arthur, so I’m trusting you to be unbiased here, do you think you can do that for me? Put yourself in the shoes of a nice girl, like my niece, for example?’

  He looked to me, somewhat baffled, before giving Patty a reluctant nod.

  ‘Good, good. Yes. Now…’ she said, walking over to me, one coffee-bearing hand raised and the other out towards me, like she was presenting Exhibit A. ‘Disregarding his current unkempt state, would you say that our Arthur is a handsome man?’

  ‘Right! OK Patty,’ I said, taking her by the shoulders – gentle, yet firm – and guiding her away from Gabriel and out of the house. ‘Gabriel has already been so kind in bringing me these coffees and groceries. I can’t repay him by allowing you to ask such awkward, leading questions.’

  ‘Pish posh, my dear boy. Now Gabriel, objectively speaking, Arthur is the type you could happily introduce to your folks, isn’t he? But! Also – and I apologise in advance for being vulgar – he’s someone you’d be more than happy to take back to your own place. I’m sure you know what I mean.’

  Gabriel had been going to take a sip of his coffee but froze with the cup part way to his lips.

  ‘That is definitely enough,’ I said, making my second attempt to physically remove her from the premises. ‘Gabriel is my guest, and some might consider this interrogation to be inhospitable.’

  That’s right, time for the big guns. Patty would rather die than be accused of acting inhospitably.

  ‘I do know what you mean, Patty,’ Gabriel said, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he spoke. ‘And Arthur’s already got me back to his place, hasn’t he?’

  What did he just say?

  ‘Oh, you scoundrel! Such a wicked sense of humour.’ Patty laughed. ‘Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And what did I tell you, Arthur? You’ve no need to be so coy. That settles it. I’ll bring Samantha over next time she’s visiting, and there’ll be no more quibbling about it.’

  Satisfied with her mission achieved, Patty pulled herself together while making the habitual breathy clucking noises that signalled her imminent departure. ‘Well, I must let you go. Get well soon. And Arthur, my dear, make sure you call if you need anything, anything at all. That goes for you too, Gabriel. Ta-ra!’ Then she turned – coffee and hot chocolate in each hand – and sailed out. As I shut the front door, I couldn’t help catching her muttering to herself, ‘Such a handsome young man.’

  Chapter 5 – What was he thinking?

  I returned to the kitchen to find Gabriel smiling. ‘So—’

  ‘So that was Patty: resident gossip, scandal chaser, muffin baker, and unsolicited match-maker.’

  ‘She seems… very involved.’

  ‘Patty prides herself in knowing all the comings and goings – an A-grade curtain twitcher. There’s no way she would not investigate you visiting.’ I mean, I can hardly blame her wanting to get a closeup, just look at him. ‘At least she always turns up with baking… I just wish I had the heart to tell her I’m deathly sick of spiced apple muffins. I complimented them once, now she’s forever bringing them over.’

  Gabriel had been in my kitchen the entire time, leaning against the bench, relaxed. He looked like a wholesome sport star having a domestic photoshoot for a women’s lifestyle magazine. He tilted his head, smiling at my last comment. Mischievous, more indicative of a different type of magazine. ‘Do you often have strange men coming to the house who Patty and her baking need to check in on?’

  ‘What? Uh, no. No strange men – just the regulars. No, I don’t mean that! I mean Jared and Richard, my friends – you met them yesterday.’ I was well flustered and very conscious of it. What was he insinuating this supposed torrent of strange men were doing in my house? I could guess. Did he think… what was he thinking?

  ‘I have to admit that I didn’t much notice your friends yesterday. My attention was focussed elsewhere.’

  Me. He was talking about me… Well, duh. I ran into him and then knocked myself out at his work while he was in charge, of course that focussed his attention on me.

  I didn’t know what to say, so talking about my friends seemed like a safe option. ‘Jared and Richard are the only ones who stop in here. Patty knows them well enough now, probably too well. Despises Richard. “Uncouth” was the word she used, which I thought quite generous of her. He’d gotten sick of her showing up all the time, so one day he went all extra with the swearing and bawdy stories. Patty didn’t think that was proper behaviour in front of a lady. She doesn’t come over now if she sees Richard’s truck out front.’

  ‘He sounds fun, and just what you need to deal with your nosy neighbour.’

  ‘True, I’m not really one for conflict though. Makes me uncomfortable…’ Too serious, chill out man. ‘Richard is fun though. A bit much sometimes, never a dull moment, that’s for sure. His antics with Patty inspired me actually,’ I said, laughing at the memory.

  ‘Go on then,’ Gabriel said, biting into a peach he’d unpacked from the groceries. You’re killing me.

  ‘Well,’ I said, trying to focus my attention elsewhere, ‘her youngest had recently moved out of home. I think Patty was feeling lost. She’d been using increasingly flimsy excuses to stop by for visits. I felt for her, kicking around in that big old house, just her and Philip. She wasn’t used to it. But after the fifth visit in one week, I’d had enough. So… I fabricated a rumour I hoped would distract her for a bit. The place at number 43, just a few doors down, was up for sale. I mentioned to Patty I’d heard the mayor was considering making an offer on it. By the next day she’d whipped the neighbourhood into a frenzy. She had the entire street out in their front gardens pruning bushes, pulling weeds, water blasting paths, tidying away wheelie bins. She even had old Philip up a ladder touching up the paintwork on the front of the house. It kept her busy for at least a week. And as an added bonus the street had never looked better.’

  Gabriel’s smile had grown as I told my sordid tale. By the time I’d finished he was grinning ear to ear. My breath caught for a second as I realised all over again how stunning this man was. His face lit up my kitchen, banishing my earlier frustration with my uninvited guest.

  ‘Well played, but it looks like your diversionary tactics have worn off. We might have to work on some fresh material. Make her think twice before stopping by so often… I have a few ideas.’

  ‘Do tell, please.’

  ‘How about I tell you next time I visit – does Wednesday work for you? I can’t be stopping by two days in a row, I’d be in danger of becoming a pest like dear, well-meaning Patricia.’

  ‘You could never!’ Calm down, keep it cool. Mustn’t seem too keen. ‘Wednesday would be great, but you really don’t have to.’

  ‘No, I want to. Plus, our friend Susan would kill me if she knew I’d abandoned you after only one day.’

  ‘She was quite fierce, wasn’t she?’

  ‘I dare not slack in providing your convalescent care. Speaking of, she would have my head if she thought I’d let you starve. Shall we eat?’

  Judging by the ingredients arrayed on the bench, it looked like Gabriel had bought enough supplies for a few different, full on deluxe breakfasts. I said as much.

  ‘It’s like with the coffee,’ Gabriel said, ‘how could I know what you liked for breakfast?’

  ‘You know, I would’ve been quite content with a cup of instant and bowl of cereal. It’s what I’m used to during the week, before rushing out of the house.’

  ‘Well, you’re not rushing anywhere today, so a basic bowl of cereal won’t cut it.’

  ‘True. It’s almost like a Saturday morning. I love taking my time on the weekend, trying something different for breakfast, or revisiting an old favourite. I’ll eat anything and everything though – I’m easy.’

  After a pause Gabriel said with a teasing smile, ‘Is that so? Good to know.’

  Oh, come on…

  One suggestive comment I could pass off as general, light banter. But I’m seeing a pattern here – I’m not making this up, right? Either this guy suspects I’m gay, and the cocky bastard knows I’m hot on him so he’s toying with me for his own entertainment. Prick. But why not, that’s one way to amuse yourself while assuaging your misplaced guilt.

  Or – and this is my eternally optimistic, gay little heart speaking – he’s gay himself and dropping hints to see if I’ll take the bait.

  I’m still not ready to find out which it is. I don’t think I could handle it if he was just messing with me for the fun of it. And if I don’t demand confirmation either way, then I can go on fooling myself that it’s the way I want.

  Don’t look in the box: Schrödinger’s homo.

  ‘So then, what’s on the menu?’ I said.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a few options for us,’ he said, checking over the groceries. ‘Cream cheese bagels. Scrambled eggs on toast. Pancakes with banana, blueberries, bacon and maple syrup. Or a full English breakfast?’

  My stomach was grumbling just thinking about all that food – my toast dinner was not cutting it. Though the slight stab of hunger I felt now was better than the burning, curry-fuelled alternative.

  ‘I’m feeling pancakes. I haven’t had them in forever, and I need something sweet.’

  ‘Something sweet, coming up.’

  He turned to clear space on the bench. And I couldn’t stop staring as he rummaged around the cupboards and drawers looking for the big bowl and utensils.

  He was gorgeous. And that butt – I was mesmerised.

  After a few moments I saw he was grabbing the eggs, milk and flour and realised there was no pancake mix. ‘You’re making the pancakes… from scratch?’

  ‘Sure, then we can have more if we want.’

  Fair point. Looking more closely at the groceries I saw there were no ready meals or anything of the like. To be fair, pancakes are pretty basic, but all signs pointed to this man knowing his way around a kitchen…

  Just marry me already.

  Oops, my future husband was still talking – I’d tuned out without realising.

  ‘—grab a shower while I’m doing this? Susan mentioned you should have someone to hand in case you jarred your back and slipped. You might as well while I’m here.’

  I hesitated. I mean, I definitely wanted to clean myself up. Can’t have Gabriel thinking of me as an unwashed dirtbag. But I was quite content just watching his butt bop about as he made me breakfast.

  ‘Unless you’d prefer I ask Patricia to come over and supervise?’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘I would,’ he said, smiling. And I knew he meant it.

  ‘Fine! Yes, I stink, I’m going.’

  ‘The pancakes will be ready soon, so don’t take too long. Or I’ll assume you’ve knocked yourself out again – will have to come in and save you.’

  I can’t remember a time when I’ve been rendered speechless so many times in such quick succession. His ‘threat’ was almost enough to make me want to slip in the shower, just to see what would happen.

  ‘Call out if you need anything,’ Gabriel said.

  What, like join me in the shower? Give me a hand scrubbing my back? The mere thought caused a stir. I was conscious again of the loose layer of fabric covering my bits in danger of becoming taut all over again. I turned in a hurry to hide the growing evidence and was rewarded with a short, sharp sting in my back – that was getting old real quick.

  ***

  For better or worse – I couldn’t decide which – my showering went without incident. One slight twinge when I reached for the bodywash and face scrub, but no showstoppers.

  I freshened up as fast as I dared. With teeth brushed, mouth rinsed, hair wrangled, armpits deodorised, and wearing a clean set of clothes – including underwear – I re-emerged.

  ‘You scrub up all right,’ Gabriel said as he peeled a banana. ‘No disasters then? I don’t need to call in Susan?’

  ‘A couple of twinges, but I was careful. I’m hopeful I’ll be back to normal in a couple days.’

  ‘Good to hear,’ Gabriel said with a smile. ‘Now, while you were in there, I took a guess putting things away in the pantry, and tried to keep things within easy reach. Hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Susan would be impressed.’

  ‘I aim to please,’ Gabriel said, holding up two plates of pancakes loaded with chopped banana, blueberries, bacon and swimming in maple syrup. ‘And now I invite you to relax, and pull up a chair as the dining room proudly presents – your breakfast,’ he said, laying down the plates with a flourish.

  Was… was he paraphrasing Beauty and the Beast?

  ‘Does that make you Lumière, then?’

  Gabriel’s eyes lit up, ‘And you must be Belle.’

  ‘Rude! Surely my role in this is the Beast? Unkempt and housebound, with loyal subjects to cook my meals and bring me muffins and coffee?’

  ‘Valid points, all,’ conceded Gabriel, smiling wider than ever.

  ‘Though I must admit, I am a little disappointed.’

  He frowned then, but said nothing.

  ‘Where’s my musical number?’

  Gabriel laughed, ‘Well, your furniture, crockery and cutlery just weren’t up to the task. And I didn’t have the time to teach them the routine.’

  I couldn’t keep up the act any more and started laughing myself as I sat down at the table. This guy was something else.

  I snatched a glance at him as I took my first mouthful.

  Delicious.

  ***

  After Gabriel had left for his classes, I wandered about the house.

  Entering my bedroom I moved some things around, dropped a few stray dirty socks in the washing basket, then left again.

  I walked through the lounge, tapping my fingers along the back of the couch as I went. Peering out the window onto the street – what I imagine Patty spends much of her time at home doing – I saw a couple of cars drive past, nothing much else.

  The fridge provided no distractions either. I stared for a minute before closing the door again.

  Even my book didn’t capture my attention. I put it down after reading the same paragraph three times and still not registering what it said.

  Wednesday was so far away…

  I checked my phone – no messages. Why would there be?

  Should I message him? ‘I’m going to message him.’

  I drafted a message, then deleted it. I tried again, agonising over the text, changing my mind countless times. Hey, or hi? Or just no greeting? Keep it general, or pick up a strand of our conversation from this morning? Emoji, or no emoji?

  ‘What am I doing?’ I said to my empty house. I deleted the text and slapped my phone face down on the bench in shame, glad no one had witnessed such embarrassingly adolescent behaviour.

  I ended up binging TV all afternoon. Like an adult. Though after Netflix had asked if I was still watching for a second time I decided it was time to get off the couch and go to bed.

  Chapter 6 – How could she have known?

  Tuesday morning I was up at a more respectable hour, showered, dressed and fed before I even thought to check my phone. It was still face down on the bench. Dead.

  Well, that could have been a disaster. I should really be keeping it on me in case I stuff my back again.

  I plugged it in and did some gentle stretching while I waited for it to come back to life. Easing into the stretches, I tested the muscles in my legs and butt and sides. Next up was some light abdominal exercises – my thinking being that if I could wake them up, they might help out in keeping my back in order.

  After that brief round of stretches I was feeling a little more confident. Regaining the trust that my back wouldn’t just ping at random – something I’d never given a second thought before. Is this what it’s like for the elderly, but all the time, with no prospect of it ever going away? I bloody hope not. Maybe I can ask this evening?

  My phone had a bit of juice now. I decided I’d update my boss, mention I was improving but would take tomorrow off to be sure. He was good about this kind of thing, would rather his team take the extra day off and make sure they didn’t bring sickness into work and infect everyone else. Or in my case, didn’t put my back out again by picking up a pen. The last thing my boss wanted was the health and safety manager drowning us both in paperwork.

  A message popped up as my phone turned on.

  It was from Gabriel, sent almost half an hour ago.

  Did you survive your shower this morning, Belle?

  ‘Hah!’ My delight was quickly replaced with dread – what was I going to respond with? To save myself the anguish of yesterday I sent the first thing that came to mind.

 

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