– did you send a handsome blond man into the shop on purpose? Are you a real witch? – but I’d figure it out.
Rory had flown to Nigeria over the weekend with the Foreign Minister but WhatsApped me every day. I felt a tragic little thrill every time I saw his name pop up on my phone. He’d texted me back! And again! Byron might have written great love letters but, from Rory, even a message about what he was having for dinner or a photo of his hotel room gave me a buzz.
I counted myself upstairs to the fourth floor of the Harley Street building and knocked on Gwendolyn’s door. On her command – another shrill ‘Come i-hinnnnnn!’ – I pushed it open and winced, having forgotten the pinkness of the room.
‘Florence, poppet, wonderful to see you, have a seat,’ she said. She was dressed as if she’d just returned from her gap year in Thailand: baggy cotton trousers, white T-shirt, flip-flops, a purple bandana wrapped around her head.
I sat. She cocked her head and smiled. ‘How are you?’
I wondered when I should mention Rory. I was torn between wanting to announce that I’d met someone who shared several items on my list, and being unable, or unwilling, to admit it to her, lest she claim all the credit. ‘Good. I’ve, er, actually been on a couple of dates since we last met.’
Gwendolyn closed her eyes and smiled serenely. ‘Ah yes. I thought as much. I could tell it the moment you stepped into the room. Since I removed those love blocks, your energy is quite different.’ She opened her eyes. ‘Tell me about him.’
‘He’s, well, he’s got a few of the qualities on my list. That’s what I want to talk to you about,’ I said, reaching for the folded piece of paper in my bag. ‘Because it seems a coincidence—’
‘Is it a coincidence or is it the universe granting you your wish?’ she interrupted, with the same, wide smile. Maybe she was on drugs. Maybe you could only talk like this if you took heavy-duty medication?
‘It can’t be the universe,’ I said, smoothing the list on my lap. I ran my eyes down it. ‘I mean, it can’t be. It doesn’t make sense. You can’t have made this hap—’
Gwendolyn interrupted again by reaching towards me. Her hand, decorated with gold rings, looked like that of a medieval king.
I gave her the list and she frowned down at it. ‘Does he like cats?’
‘He says he does.’
She nodded as if that was to be expected.
‘Does he have an interesting job?’
‘Yes. He works for the Foreign Office but wants to be an MP beca—’
‘Does he have an impressive bottom?’
I blushed. Now I’d seen him naked, I knew he did. No spots. No hair. Not too insubstantial and bony but not too chunky either. That looked weird on men. At uni, there’d been a geography student with a curved, womanly bottom and he always wore jeans that emphasized it. Big Bum Bert we’d called him. Poor Bert.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘And how is his…’ her voice dropped here to a whisper, ‘performance?’
My face turned as pink as the room as I heard the echo of ‘COWABUNGA!’ in my head. ‘It’s… impressive.’
‘Has he got a nice mother?’
‘Not sure.’
‘And his clothes?’
‘Definitely no pointy shoes or Hawaiian shirts.’
She continued running down the list and I agreed that Rory ticked all of them. I wasn’t sure about the bathroom habits yet, admittedly, and I hadn’t told him about my counting. But otherwise it was a perfect match.
‘It sounds as if the universe has delivered, darling,’ said Gwendolyn, folding the list and handing it back to me. ‘He seems very promising. You said you wanted someone with the sexual energy of Sean Connery…’
‘James Bond,’ I clarified. ‘I didn’t actually specify which one. And if we’re picking, Sean wouldn’t actually be my first choice. I’d rath—’
Gwendolyn silenced me by holding up a hand. ‘Florence, you’re getting distracted. Let’s stick to the point; what’s worrying you about all this?’
‘I’m not worried. I’m just not sure I can believe it, that writing this list has made it come about.’
She spread her hands in front of her. ‘Why should it matter if you believe it? It’s happened. You’ve met someone.’
‘But what if it’s too good to be true? What if it all goes away again?’
‘Ah,’ said Gwendolyn, waggling a finger at me. ‘That is something entirely different. That is your own self-belief. But I can do something about that.’
‘What?’ I was instantly