Page 65 of Love in Tune

‘I’m not an idiot, Hal,’ she said, but lightly, because she really didn’t want him to change his mind.

‘You do idiotic things quite often,’ he said, pulling his door closed. Honey didn’t miss the way his chest rose and fell heavily beneath his navy woollen pea coat.

‘I’ve never seen you in a coat before,’ she said, to keep the conversation going. ‘It’s quite, er, sexy fisherman.’

‘“Sexy fisherman”?’ Hal sounded incredulous.

Honey opened the front door. ‘Two steps down to the pavement, quite shallow,’ she said, stepping down ahead of Hal. ‘Yes, you know. Captain Birdseye and all that.’ She held his elbow lightly and scanned the quiet, early morning street. ‘We’re walking left down towards the bus stop, there’s no one else around.’

‘Just don’t ask me to run for the bus,’ he said. ‘Captain fucking Birdseye?’

Honey realised what she’d said wrong, too late as usual.

‘Crap. Sorry.’

‘I’m more offended by the fact that he was a fat man in his sixties than by his name.’

Honey heard the thread of humour and the louder thread of tension in Hal’s voice. She sensed that the best thing she could do for him right now was keep up the inane chatter. If there was one thing Honey was good at, it was inane chat. A half smile touched her lips as they stood together at the bus stop wrapped up in warm coats, making catering plans for Old Don’s birthday party. He was coming to help her. He was really coming.

‘Skinny Steve, meet Hal. He’s a chef.’

Honey had installed Hal on a stool in the kitchen, and practically floated two inches off the floor with pride when Steve arrived for work half an hour later.

Skinny Steve almost genuflected.

‘You did it,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t think you would, but you did.’

For a brief moment Honey understood how it felt to be Santa Claus. ‘I promised, didn’t I?’

Steve nodded and stuck his hand out towards Hal.

Honey shook her head emphatically and Steve lowered his unshaken hand again uncertainly.

‘Hi Steve,’ Hal said. ‘Honey tells me you’re the sous chef around here.’

Steve frowned. ‘Why’d you tell him I can cook soup?’ he shot at Honey out the side of his mouth.

Honey coughed. ‘Would you excuse us for just one second please, Hal?’ she said, and yanked Steve into the dining room.

‘Skinny Steve,’ she said, and sucked in a deep breath. ‘That man in there is one of the country’s top chefs. He had an accident and he can’t see anymore, but he’s here to help, so don’t blow it, okay?’

‘You still shouldn’t have said I can cook soup, Honey,’ Steve frowned. ‘What if he tells me to do it today?’

‘He didn’t say soup,’ she hissed. ‘He saidsous. It’s French, Steve, for … for super chef,’ she lied. ‘Yes. I told him you’re a super chef and he’s really looking forward to teaching you, so get your act together and just do as he tells you, okay?’

She pushed him back into the kitchen with both hands and offered up a silent prayer.

Alarm bells went off in Honey’s head when she glanced up from pricing a stack of shirts to see Nell and Tash advancing towards her across the shop floor. One or the other of them during the working day was a welcome sight, but both of them together usually meant trouble.

‘Hey you guys,’ she smiled. ‘Lunch break ambush?’

‘I’d prefer to think of it as a friendly pep talk,’ Nell said, as smoothly as only a teacher used to fractious parents knew how to be.

Tash pulled her phone out of her huge handbag and pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. Clicking through it quickly, she twisted the screen towards Honey, who looked at it and then glanced away again quickly.

‘Ew. Is that Yusef?’

‘Nope.’ Tash shook her head and grinned. ‘It’s your lunch date for Saturday. I told you he was hot.’

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