My Secret Lover

bit cowardly to make the
announcement when New Andy’s around.
    ‘Andy?’ says Richard.
    A bit of raw carrot has lodged in
that funny gappy bit that’s just beyond my mouth and not quite in my throat, so
I just nod.
    ‘You’re back together?’ says Richard,
as cheerfully as a burnt mouth will allow.
    Nod. Nod. Eyes beginning to water
now.
    ‘We are. Misunderstanding, really.’
Cough, cough, cough!
    ‘Are you all right?’
    Paroxysm of coughing.
    Eventually I have to put my finger in
and dislodge the bit of carrot.
    The tears are still pouring down my
face, but I can breathe again. I put my hand on Richard’s forearm. Not the
salivary one that’s been in my mouth, obviously.
    ‘It’s a bit difficult for me this
week,’ says Richard.
    ‘Well, if you’re sure.’
    I wipe my eyes with the tissue he’s
handed me.
    The coughing helped us through that
slightly awkward patch, I think, and leaves Richard able to take his arm away
from my hand as if I’m the one who’s keen on him.
     
    * * *
     
    I am going to make a very nice dinner
tomorrow evening. We missed the actual day because every other night these days
seems to be a rehearsal night. I didn’t mind because the curling was on, and it
is actually much more interesting than darts, because there’s ends and tactics
and blocking stones and that’s before you’ve realized what they’re doing with
the brooms.
    The trouble with me and sport is that
I start taking an interest because of fancying someone (not that I thought The
Winter Olympics would really give me a chance with New Andy, but it’s good to
have something to chat about, and frankly, less expensive than subscribing to
FilmFour), and as soon as I’ve figured out the rules, I’m hooked.
    I got fourteen cards. Twelve of them
anonymous with pop-up hearts inside, seven of those with back-to-front question
marks, one from Richard Batty (postmark E Yorks. He always thinks it’s going to
fool me, but I know he has a sister in Hull. Still nice of him to make the
effort in the circumstances), one from Andy, I think. Postmarked Wl which is
where his office is. I purposely didn’t send him one because last year he said
that we don’t need helium hearts and red roses to speak for us. Feel a bit bad
now. Still, it is rather a crude card with a joke about harems. Probably all
they had left in the garage. Where shopping’s concerned, Andy is the opposite
of most people who shop at the supermarket and take the opportunity to fill up
with petrol on the way out.
    Which is another reason to make him a
very nutritious late-Valentine’s dinner because he cannot possibly get all the
vitamins he needs from Ginster’s.
    I’m not attempting coeur à crème with a raspberry coulis, or anything fancy like that, because I do not own a
set of heart-shaped moulds, nor am I a good cook, although my mum did give me Happy
Days with the Naked Chef at Christmas with a tag saying: ‘We can all
dream!’
    I was thinking more asparagus
dripping with organic butter, sushi and strawberries with melted chocolate on
the side. Sensual, easy-to-prepare food you can eat with your fingers. That is
what it says in all the magazines. Except Hello! of course. Hello! always
seems to have a feature on ways with hake or chickpeas. The food section is
definitely its weak spot.
    I get the asparagus, but the sushi’s
got a reduced sticker on because the sell-by’s today, which wouldn’t bother me
if it were anything other than raw fish.
    I choose a tub of taramasalata and
some ready cut crudites instead. Pringles are on a three for two, so better get
six packets.
    Damn! I’ve forgotten the strawberries
which are right at the beginning of the shop. They’ve probably sold out anyway,
so I’ll buy a tub of strawberry cheesecake ice cream instead, which amazingly
has no more calories per 100g than ordinary strawberry icecream. And saves
melting the chocolate which I think you have to do in a bain-marie or something
French.
    And finally, champagne. Proper
champagne, not pink. And for the main course, a full-bodied Rioja. And, in case
we don’t fancy red, a nice Sauvignon Blanc. If you buy six bottles you get the
cheapest one free and a wine cooler worth £4.99 which seems too good an offer
to miss. So two more reds and a white, and it’s worth having the slightly
pricier ones because they’ll be cheaper on average.
    The man in front of me in the queue
has got Ajax powder. I didn’t think they made it any more. Who would