Page 36 of Love in Tune

Honey’s phone buzzed, waking her up too early the next morning, which was a bummer given that she’d barely slept. Squinting at the phone, she read Tash’s message.

Honey groaned and closed her eyes again. Tash was just going to have to cancel the date, because the piano man project was dead in the water. If Honey never had another date again, it’d still be too soon to re-address the subject of romance.

She really didn’t want to get out of bed, because it signalled the start of another long day of trying to juggle more balls than a Covent Garden street performer and she’d never been the best at catch.

Concentrating on her breathing in the fetal position worked for a couple of minutes; it soothed her body, if not her mind.

Her mind refused to be soothed. Too many thoughts about whether salmon sandwiches posed a choking hazard to octogenarians and whether the Smartie-covered caterpillar cake she’d noticed in the supermarket last week would cut the mustard.

Not that one would be anywhere near big enough; she’d need at least six or more.

Was there a collective name for a group of caterpillars?

A hive of caterpillars? A clutch of caterpillars?

All these thoughts and more chased each other wildly around inside Honey’s skull until she crawled, caterpillar-like, out of bed and under the shower.

‘I’m not a coward.’

Hal’s stark words reached Honey as she closed the door to her flat a little later. She paused.

‘I’m sorry if my choice of words offended you,’ she said, even though she kind of was and kind of wasn’t. On the one hand she could see that by allowing himself to hide away Hal was taking the easy option, but then on the other hand, he was probably the bravest man she’d ever met.

She heard the mechanism of his lock move, and a second later his door swung slowly open. Hal stood there, looking exactly the same as ever, except for one thing. He was wearing a coat.

‘Hal, oh my God!’ Honey moved swiftly to his door and instinctively reached up and kissed his cheek.

‘How do you know I’m not just going for a morning stroll?’ he said, making light of the decision he’d wrestled with all night.

‘I doubt you’ve ever strolled in your life,’ Honey said, and then faltered. ‘So how do we do this?’

‘Do what?’ he said.

‘Do you have a cane?’

Hal made a sound that sounded horribly huffish. ‘No, I do not.’

‘Don’t you need one?’

‘So they say.’

Honey could only agree with them, whoever they were.

She scanned the hallway for potential pitfalls and her eyes alighted on the umbrella stand, and more specifically her Orla Kiely full-length brolly, a gift from Nell for Christmas the year before.

Making a grab for it, she pushed it into Hal’s hands.

‘Use this?’

He ran his hands along it, feeling the curve of the handle. ‘Is it raining?’

Honey knew that he knew perfectly well that it wasn’t raining. ‘I was only trying to help.’

‘By giving me an umbrella that is too short and no doubt hideously garish in order to draw attention to the fact I can’t see a fucking thing?’

Honey rammed the brolly back into the stand. ‘It’s very tasteful, actually. Nell gave it to me and she doesn’t have a tasteless bone in her body.’

‘If you really want to help, just stand next to me once we’re outside. Hold my arm casually as if we actually like each other and tell me if there are steps or kerbs. Can you do that?’

‘I’m not an idiot, Hal,’ she said, but lightly, because she really didn’t want him to change his mind.

‘You do idiotic things quite often,’ he said, pulling his door closed. Honey didn’t miss the way his chest rose and fell heavily beneath his navy woollen pea coat.

‘I’ve never seen you in a coat before,’ she said, to keep the conversation going. ‘It’s quite, er, sexy fisherman.’

‘“Sexy fisherman”?’ Hal sounded incredulous.

Honey opened the front door. ‘Two steps down to the pavement, quite shallow,’ she said, stepping down ahead of Hal.

‘Yes, you know. Captain Birdseye and all that.’ She held his elbow lightly and scanned the quiet, early morning street.

‘We’re walking left down towards the bus stop, there’s no one else around. ’

‘Just don’t ask me to run for the bus,’ he said. ‘Captain fucking Birdseye?’

Honey realised what she’d said wrong, too late as usual.

‘Crap. Sorry.’

‘I’m more offended by the fact that he was a fat man in his sixties than by his name.’

Honey heard the thread of humour and the louder thread of tension in Hal’s voice.

She sensed that the best thing she could do for him right now was keep up the inane chatter.

If there was one thing Honey was good at, it was inane chat.

A half smile touched her lips as they stood together at the bus stop wrapped up in warm coats, making catering plans for Old Don’s birthday party.

He was coming to help her. He was really coming.

‘Skinny Steve, meet Hal. He’s a chef.’

Honey had installed Hal on a stool in the kitchen, and practically floated two inches off the floor with pride when Steve arrived for work half an hour later.

Skinny Steve almost genuflected.

‘You did it,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t think you would, but you did.’

For a brief moment Honey understood how it felt to be Santa Claus. ‘I promised, didn’t I?’

Steve nodded and stuck his hand out towards Hal.

Honey shook her head emphatically and Steve lowered his unshaken hand again uncertainly.

‘Hi Steve,’ Hal said. ‘Honey tells me you’re the sous chef around here.’

Steve frowned. ‘Why’d you tell him I can cook soup?’ he shot at Honey out the side of his mouth.

Honey coughed. ‘Would you excuse us for just one second please, Hal?’ she said, and yanked Steve into the dining room.

‘Skinny Steve,’ she said, and sucked in a deep breath. ‘That man in there is one of the country’s top chefs. He had an accident and he can’t see anymore, but he’s here to help, so don’t blow it, okay?’

‘You still shouldn’t have said I can cook soup, Honey,’ Steve frowned. ‘What if he tells me to do it today?’

‘He didn’t say soup,’ she hissed. ‘He said sous . It’s French, Steve, for … for super chef,’ she lied. ‘Yes. I told him you’re a super chef and he’s really looking forward to teaching you, so get your act together and just do as he tells you, okay?’

She pushed him back into the kitchen with both hands and offered up a silent prayer.

Alarm bells went off in Honey’s head when she glanced up from pricing a stack of shirts to see Nell and Tash advancing towards her across the shop floor. One or the other of them during the working day was a welcome sight, but both of them together usually meant trouble.

‘Hey you guys,’ she smiled. ‘Lunch break ambush?’

‘I’d prefer to think of it as a friendly pep talk,’ Nell said, as smoothly as only a teacher used to fractious parents knew how to be.

Tash pulled her phone out of her huge handbag and pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. Clicking through it quickly, she twisted the screen towards Honey, who looked at it and then glanced away again quickly.

‘Ew. Is that Yusef?’

‘Nope.’ Tash shook her head and grinned. ‘It’s your lunch date for Saturday. I told you he was hot.’

‘So hot he needed to take off all his clothes?’

‘What?’ Tash frowned and whipped the phone back, then grinned, thoroughly unabashed.

‘Ha! Sorry, Hon. No, that’s Yusef. What a horse, eh?’

She clicked through a couple of shots and turned the phone around again.

‘Christian.’

Honey looked down again into a profile shot of an admittedly good-looking guy, this time thankfully fully dressed.

‘Couldn’t get a better shot without him noticing,’ Tash said. ‘See what I mean now? He’s even better in the flesh. All blue eyes and yes ma’am, no ma’am. Honestly, it was like talking to Elvis without the rhinestones.’

‘Tash, it isn’t that I’m not grateful, but I just have so much going on right now, you know?’

Nell glanced at Tash with I told-you-so eyes. ‘It’s only lunch,’ she said. ‘One little lunch. Everyone needs to eat, Honeysuckle.’

‘Not with random men who sound like Elvis, they don’t,’ Honey said.

Tash’s green eyes flashed with determination. ‘What would you be doing otherwise? Mooning after your Emo neighbour?’

‘No,’ Honey scowled, not willing to elaborate on how badly wrong things had turned out with Hal on that front. ‘Meeting you two in the café, probably.’

‘I’m busy on Saturday,’ Nell said quickly. ‘Me too,’ Tash smirked, and they both looked at her expectantly.

She was saved from having to say anything more by the wail of a siren outside.