Page 36 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘Hildy,’ she insists.

Sweet old ladies, I amend because truth be told I do seem to have developed a bit of a soft spot for Hildegard Lundy. It has to do with her vast array of kaftans which allow her to move like she’s sort of gliding. Bit like Yoda. She’s the same age as Yoda, I think, which I find very comforting. Then there’s the miles of gold jewellery. Huge hint that she’s a bit eccentric. I like eccentric. And then there’s the twinkle in her eyes. Yeah, most probably it’s the twinkly eyes. Gets me every time. ‘Hildy,’ I say, making an effort to inject energy into my voice. ‘Apologies. I was miles away.’ Just because my promotion comes with a team that makes me feel at every turn like my new job is actually more about herding cats, doesn’t mean I get to be a dick.

‘Apology accepted. Looks like I caught you with your mind on cooking a romantic dinner for that beautiful girlfriend of yours?’

I realise she’s staring at the bags of groceries I’m carrying. Suddenly my big idea for Perfect Pies sounds like it came from basic subliminal thought pattern rather than original creative thinking. I bite back a sigh of disappointment.

Why can’t I get the idea? The hook? The slam-dunk pitch no one else has thought of.

‘Cooking a romantic dinner. Do people still do that? Bit of a minefield these days, isn’t it? Food intolerances. Food provenance…’ Hmmm, maybe that’s what I should focus on with the campaign?

I try to think how I can make a frozen lemon meringue pie that serves ten look romantic. Wait – didn’t Tim Duggins come up with a similar idea that I passed on? (I still can’t believe Anya palmed him off onto my team). No, his take was more on an older couple’s wedding anniversary party. Completely different. Too retro given the client is trying to bring their brand into the twenty-first century.

‘Because I haven’t seen her around here lately,’ comes the sharp observation from Mrs. Lundy.

‘Haven’t seen who?’

‘Your girlfriend.’

‘Right. Of course. Well, Anya’s been busy with work,’ I say in defence.

Mrs. Lundy looks at me like no one could be that busy or am I being paranoid?

‘We’ve both been busy with work,’ I add. ‘I got a promotion actually.’ I’m not sure why I’m telling her this.

‘Well, that’s wonderful dear but all work and no play makes George…’

‘A very dull boy? That’s a bit harsh, Mrs. Lundy.’ Immediately I’m reminded of my friends not getting it when I couldn’t kick a football around the local playing field, and how boring they thought I was.

‘Hildy,’ she corrects. ‘And I wouldn’t say “very”,’ she adds with an eye twinkle that under circumstances where I’m not obsessed with work performance, would tease me out of my funk. ‘There’s hope for you, yet. With the groceries, you certainly have every chance of turning it around.’

To be fair the groceries are part of my promise to myself to try keeping the fridge stocked with food, plus I wanted to see who usually buys Perfect Pies in the market. I have to be honest. There wasn’t a queue forming in front of the freezer unit. I’m going to turn that all around, of course.

‘Unless you don’t want to turn it around?’ Mrs. Lundy’s twinkle has been replaced with a hawk-like quality that has me swallowing hard.

‘What? Of course, I want to – wait – there’s nothing to turn around. Anya and I are in a really good place. The same place we’ve been in for?—’

‘The same place? Really, George?’ Mrs. Lundy cuts me off with a click of her perfect false teeth. ‘Relationships are supposed to grow, you know.’

‘And ours is. It’s huge.’ Huge? How can a relationship be huge? I am really off my game. Not that I was expecting to have to pitch my own relationship to my sweet Yoda-impersonator neighbour after a thirteen-hour day at work and with another few ahead of me.

‘I worry about you, George.’

‘Worry about me?’ The pain in my head pulses. I don’t need anyone worrying about me.

‘Less so now you have, Ashleigh, admittedly.’

Who the hell is Ashleigh?

‘Thank you for recommending her, by the way,’ she adds.

Recommending her? Ah. The light dawns. ‘Right.’ I nod and the movement makes my head pound harder. ‘The cleaner.’

‘Oh, she’s really so much more than that, George.’

Before I can ask her what she means my phone interrupts. If it’s Anya she’ll understand when I say I have to work tonight but Mrs. Lundy probably won’t. ‘Sorry, I really have to take this.’ I juggle the grocery bags and get out my phone. ‘It’s probably work.’ I offer an apologetic smile.

Mrs. Lundy holds up a hand. ‘No rest for the?—’

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