Page 97 of Fundamentals in Flirting

I heard Teddy’s long sigh. “It says‘Look in the bag’.”

“Well then, look in the bag, Ted, for Christ’s sake.”

I could hear the rustling of the plastic bag that I’d hung on the door handle. Now my heart rate really went into orbit, hammering a pulse through my whole body and thudding in my ears like a military tattoo. This was it, the biggie, the baring-my-soul moment, and I didn’t know how he would take it. Once it was all said, it could never be taken back or hidden by a prickly overcoat ever again, and that was terrifying. I was itching to close the window and not hear any more, because letting someone in to my inner sanctum, the squishy marshmallow centre that I kept protected and secret, really was unfamiliar and uncomfortable territory for me. Plus, my ability as a poet was monumentally shit, and the thought of a public recital made me a bit sick in my mouth.

There was silence outside.

“Well?” Henry sounded impatient.

“Maybe it’s private, you dickhead.”

“Oh no you don’t. You’d not have done any of this without me pushing you along. I’m far too invested now, so I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s in the last one. Give it here.”

There was a slight scuffle, and I couldn’t help sniggering as I thought of two grown men fighting over my stupid little sticky note.

“Fine. Get off, Henry. All right. I’ll read it.”

He paused, and my breath stuck in my throat, heart stuttering to a stop, balanced on a knife-edge of uncertainty. Like how I imagine that moment of weightlessness before you plunge into a bottomless crevasse.

“‘These are my emasculators, but never fear, you’ve moved up the scale from possibly to nowhere near.’”

“Emasculators?” Henry sounded a little funny. I wondered if his skin had actually turned a particularly lurid shade of green. Probably. This was a comfort to me.

“Yes.”

“You’ve talked about this before?” Silence for a beat. “Actually, I don’t want to know.”

“There’s more.”

“About emasculation?”

“No.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

“Do you want to hear it or not?”

“Yes, hurry up. I’m meant to be picking Clara up in ten minutes.”

“Right, it says:

‘I’m caught in your spell, not able to run,

your masterclass in flirting has left me undone.

I’ve listened to my heart and it’s you that it chooses,

I’m sorry that it’s stroppy and covered in bruises.’”

There was a pause, before Teddy carried on quietly, barely audibly.

“‘But luckily for you this treasure hunt is now done,

so come on inside and see what you’ve won.’”

Another moment of silence stretched on, only my increasingly noisy hyperventilating filling the space in my head.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Henry asked, quietly, reassuringly, the whisper of their unique brotherly bond feathering the edges.

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