Page 73 of The Happiness Project

The ten seconds or so it takes him to open the door feel like ten years, but then, there he is, and I watch his expression move from hassled to surprised to delighted.

‘Angie!’ he shouts, pulling me into a hug then quickly releasing me. ‘Thank goodness, please come in. That is, if you want to?’

He looks as nervous as me as he holds his hands firmly by his side. My opening sentence has long since vanished; I simply nod and walk in. I don’t sit down but instead turn to face him.

‘I wanted to check that you were okay,’ I say in as neutral a voice as I can muster.

‘I’m okay,’ he says. ‘What about you and your friend, Patty — how is she?’

Okay, I think, so the call Poppy overheard seems to be valid so far.

‘She’s fine,’ I tell him. We’re both treading very carefully here and I’m hoping to work out what is going on before him.

‘It’s just, when you told me not to contact you because you needed to spend time with her, I thought . . .’ Michael looks to the ground then back up at me. ‘Well, I thought it might be very serious and I know that when my wife was first diagnosed, we didn’t want to hear from anyone.’

He thought Patty had cancer?

‘It’s understandable,’ he continues. ‘But I’ve been through it and if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or just tea and a chat, I’m here.’

Okay, this is weird and we need to stop beating around the bush.

I sit down on the sofa and he follows my lead.

‘Patty is absolutely fine,’ I tell him, getting a surprised look in return. ‘When did you get a message that she was ill and why did you think it was from me?’

‘Because it came from your number,’ Michael replies. ‘The new number you got after you lost your phone.’

‘But even if I had lost my phone, you can transfer a number,’ I say, trying to put this jigsaw together but unable to see the picture on the front of the box.

‘Okay,’ he says sheepishly. ‘I know that but you said you weren’t that tech savvy so I wasn’t sure if you knew it — sorry.’

He looks so ashamed of himself that I can’t stop myself from laughing out loud. As I do so, he joins in and it clears the air.

‘I can’t work out most of the settings on Patty’s combi-oven but I can switch phones without losing my number,’ I reassure him. ‘Let’s try and understand what happened, shall we? Starting with you standing me up at the café.’

He opens his mouth to protest but then closes it and calmly says, ‘I was on my way to the café, really looking forward to it, when a friend of yours calls and tells me that you’ve had to cancel because of a personal issue.’

‘Which friend?’ I ask, and he replies that they didn’t say.

‘Then later, I get a message from a new number saying you’ve had to change yours and I should replace the number in my phone with that one. Obviously I did that,’ he continues. ‘I messaged to ask how you were but you didn’t reply.’

I’m astounded by all this and tell him I did none of these things.

‘I’ve messaged your new number a couple of times suggesting we meet up whenever you were ready but you didn’t reply to them either. I called the number and left voicemails but again no reply. Then, you sent me a message saying that Patty was seriously ill and could I stop calling as you were dedicating all your time to her.’

‘Wow,’ I reply. ‘This is elaborate. I swear to you, I haven’t heard from you and didn’t contact you because I thought you’d just lost interest.’

‘Never.’ He shakes his head. ‘I sent you a Valentine’s card with gnomes on it hoping you’d know it was me and get in touch, but you didn’t. Then I saw pictures of you dancing and at a fancy golf club evening. I have to be honest — I was jealous and angry. I thought you were stringing me along.’

‘And I came by here one night and was told you were out with a woman,’ I tell him.

‘The only woman I’ve been out with is an old friend of my wife’s,’ he replies. ‘And I do it out of respect for her loss but I honestly wish she would move on and let me do the same. I still really like you, Angie.’

‘And I like you,’ I tell him.

We sit quietly and I contemplate all that I’ve just heard. It’s obvious that someone has been trying to keep us from getting together but we both want to give this a go.

‘Can I see the number you were given?’ I eventually ask and Michael stands to get his phone out of his pocket then hands it to me. I go through his contacts and find my name.

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