Page 37 of Love in Tune

‘I’ll go then, leave you to beautify.’

‘You do that. And there’s no need to wait up for me tonight, okay?’ she said, and then wished she hadn’t because he was actually trying for once.

‘Just don’t burn the bacon in the morning if he stays over,’ Hal said, already moving towards the door. ‘Knock on my door if you need a condom.’

Honey pulled a face at his back. ‘I’m sure Robin will carry his own protection, should he need it. Which he won’t.’

Hal laughed, and Honey wished he’d turn so she could see his smile.

‘The man still lives with his mother,’ he said. ‘He won’t carry condoms.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m a modern woman. I’ve got my own supply in the bathroom cupboard,’ Honey said, annoyed again, and she followed him down the hall and banged her door shut behind him.

There was a tap on her door a couple of hours later, and Honey knew straight away that it wasn’t Hal because it was quiet and polite, both traits her neighbour didn’t possess.

Well, that was hurdle one jumped – Robin had actually turned up. Honey had swung between mild excitement in case he was wonderful and hoping he didn’t bother to come at all, and she checked her reflection quickly in the hallway mirror as she went to let him in. She’d made an effort; her blonde waves hung loose around her careful no-make-up-look made-up face, and she was wearing her favourite vintage tea dress and high heels. The dress cinched her waist and gave her a cleavage, and the heels gave her confidence and height in case he was another tall guy. Taking a deep breath and opening the door, she immediately wished she’d opted for barefoot, because Robin only came up to her shoulder.

Aside from being vertically challenged, Nell had been quite right about his hair being a feature. There was just so much of it, and it seemed to grow in all directions in Leo Sayer-style curls.

He thrust a bunch of flowers at her and grinned.

‘You must be Honeysuckle. Fabulous name, darling!’

Honey accepted the flowers, noticing that they were actually gorgeous, awarding him extra points because they included honeysuckle, which wasn’t an easy thing to pull off in a bouquet. She smiled and swung the door wide for him to come in, hurriedly kicking off her shoes and flicking them into her bedroom as she followed him along the hallway. That was better. They were pretty much the same height now; all wasn’t lost, although that hair was going to take some getting used to.

‘And you must be Robin,’ she said, waving for him to sit down on the sofa as she dug out a vase for the flowers. ‘Nell tells me you teach music.’

He nodded, and his hair seemed to move independently of his head.

‘Love it,’ he said. ‘Music is in my bones.’ He flung his arms wide and burst into the opening lines of Abba’s ‘Thank you for the Music’, complete with jazz hands. A huge belly laugh erupted from him as he finished, and Honey found herself relaxing and started to laugh with him. Robin was a funny guy. Maybe this was going to be a good evening after all.

‘I hope you’re not vegetarian, I made bolognese,’ she said, and he rubbed his round tummy beneath the straining wool of his pullover.

‘It’s my absolute favourite,’ he declared. ‘Besides chicken madras. And lasagne. And my mother’s lime cheesecake.’ He wagged his finger at her like a guest on Jerry Springer. ‘Don’t you judge me,’ he drawled in a dead-on Deep South accent, and then that sunshine laughter erupted from him again.

‘Well?’ she said a few minutes later, having watched him theatrically twirl his fork into the heaped plate of spaghetti she’d placed in front of him and then close his eyes while he savoured his first mouthful.

His eyes pinged wide open again in shock. ‘Should I just give up and join Alcoholics Anonymous now, my darling?’ He put his cutlery down and clutched at his throat, laughing, and then flapped his hands for her to sit back down when she reached for the water jug.

‘It’s fine, it’s fine. I like a woman who’s serious about her drink.’

He wiped at his eyes, and Honey was unsure if he was damp eyed from laughing or because of the food. Testing it gingerly herself, she suspected the latter. How could it have turned out so perfectly when Hal had been around and so badly without him? Even the addition of salt hadn’t managed to rescue it.

‘I’m sorry, Robin. I’m not sure what went wrong,’ she said, poking half-heartedly at her dinner.

‘I think you’re supposed to add meat to the wine,’ he said dryly, gamely scooping up another mouthful. ‘It’s really not that bad once you get going.’ He waved his fork towards her plate. ‘Eat up. We’ll be drunk as lords in no time and I’ll be able to have my wicked way with you.’

Honey giggled and did as he’d suggested, sensing from the twinkle in his merry eyes that Robin’s wicked way was more likely to involve belting out Kylie hits on karaoke than kinky sex.

Nell must have known that Robin was never going to be Honey’s type in the romantic sense, yet still the evening turned out to be one of the best she could remember in quite some time. As she cleared away their dessert plates, Honey quizzed him more on his piano skills.

‘By rights I shouldn’t really be able to play the piano with these sausage fingers, but I can. I get it from my mother. She’s as round as a watermelon and yet she plays the piano like a light-fingered woodland nymph. It’s the same with dancing – we’re both as light as feathers on our toes.’ He lifted his foot and circled it in Honey’s direction, revealing rainbow-striped socks. ‘You haven’t seen anyone line dance until you’ve seenmeline dance.’

‘You’ll have to teach me one day,’ Honey laughed.

Robin looked serious for the first time that evening.

‘Cards on the table, Honeysuckle. You’re a wonderful girl but you’re just not my type at all, my love. I prefer my dates to be over six foot with an Adam’s apple, but if it’s any consolation you do cook a striking bolognese.’

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