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would be better. It was only better in dress. I got to wear my own clothes while serenading a room full of businessmen intent on drinking their lunches. ‘Well, I haven’t done a regular gig recently. I’ve been pretty busy with work.’ My excuse sounded inadequate; it sounded like an excuse. It was an excuse. I was definitely sliding into accountant-who’s-musical territory.
    ‘Listen, I’m sorry to rush, but I’ve got to help pack up and catch a ride back with the guys. Maybe we could get a drink together some time?’
    ‘Sure, I’d like that. Hang on, I’ve got a card here. You can email me.’
    He glanced at the card. ‘Your name is B.? Like M from James Bond? Are you an agent?’
    I laughed like I’d never heard that before. ‘I could tell you but, well, you know. It’s what I’ve always been called.’
    ‘Well, it was nice to meet you, B. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.’
    As he turned to leave, my tummy flipped. It was an excitable organ but I didn’t trust it one bit after my blind date.
    Kat exercised no such reserve as we walked to the car park. ‘B., you should definitely go out with the cellist.’
    ‘Bass player, darling,’ said James. ‘I agree, B. I always thought you should be with someone more musical.’
    ‘Really?’ This was the kind of thing your friends never told you when you were actually going out with the guy they were talking about. ‘I thought you liked Mattias.’
    ‘Oh, we did. We do. We love him. But he’s not a musician. If you’re not going to be with Mattias, you should be with a musician.’
    ‘Thanks for your advice. But I’d like to point out that it’s only been a few months since we broke up. I’m not desperate to jump into another relationship. I know women who’ve been alone for years and are absolutely content to stay that way.’
    ‘You aren’t talking about that old lady,’ Kat said.
    ‘Marjorie. Yes.’
    ‘B., she’s ninety years old and lives in a care home. Are you sure you want to use her as your role model?’
    ‘I’m just saying, she’s perfectly happy. I don’t need you pairing me up all the time. Thanks anyway.’
    ‘Senile does not equal happy, B.’
    ‘She’s not senile. And I’m not comparing myself to her.’ Though there were certainly a lot of people worse off than Marjorie.
     
     

Chapter 4
     
    I wouldn’t have been late meeting Marjorie at the care home on Saturday if I hadn’t been so stupid on Friday night. So very, very stupid.
    I should have politely declined Mattias’ dinner invitation. But he was persuasive, and after the wedding, I was happy to see a normal man.
    As uninviting as the rainy February night was, it was comforting to walk through our neighbourhood to the flat. We’d scoured every up-and-coming area north of the river together to find one we could afford. It had the world’s tiniest double bedroom, but a big open-plan living area, and it had been home for many years. Catching sight of it as I rounded the corner gave my stomach a little tickle. A lot of lovely memories were wrapped up there. It did feel weird ringing the bell, though. Proof positive that I was an outsider now.
    ‘You look lovely,’ Mattias said as we hugged hello at the front door. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I have a surprise. I’m celebrating.’
    ‘You are? Ooh, tell me.’ I followed him through to the kitchen, staring at his broad back. Everything was so familiar. I fought a wave of nostalgia.
    ‘We had a great meeting today,’ he said as we entered the spotless kitchen. As the cook in the family, he ran a tight ship in there. ‘We’re getting the contract!’
    Mattias’ urban planning company won contracts about once every thousand years. It was big news. ‘Fantastic! But why aren’t you all out together getting drunk?’
    ‘The guys had to go home after work. Mark’s wife needed him to mind the children and Alex already had plans with his girlfriend. So I thought I’d offer some dinner in exchange for a