Matthew is in many ways the perfect crush.
‘Do you shoot?’ I say.
‘Yes. Do you?’
‘Do you go out with them ever?’
Inwardly I swoon.
‘Errr… a couple of times.’
Which is stretching the truth. I ‘went out’ with the guns once, whilst staying with my then boyfriend. My presiding memory is of trying to convince him of my rural credentials whilst caught, literally, straddling a barbed wire fence in the middle of the Devon countryside. Not my finest hour.
2. We’re soul mates, apparently.
Colleague pauses in her work. ‘I think you and Matthew should get it on.’
I nearly fall off my stool. ‘Why?!’
‘I was talking to him in the kitchen the other day and… he reminds me of you. You’re quite similar, like, you’ve got the same sense of humour. Kind of… dry.’
I laugh. ‘OK! I’ll see what I can do!’
A few minutes later, Matthew walks past. I turn beetroot, my default colour whenever he’s in the vicinity.
‘Hello!’ I chirrup, my default sound whenever I speak to him.
‘You can tell that you like him,’ she says, once he’s out of earshot.
‘You go bright red!’
And I sound like a bird. Other than that, I’m stealth incarnate.
3. He’s good with children.
Matthew looks up from what he’s doing.
‘… please could you help a client lift a pram up the stairs?’
And then marry me, and we can have a baby and you can lift our pram up the stairs etc etc.
‘Yeah sure,’ he says.
We walk together towards the stairs.
‘How are you?’ I say, turning beetroot.
He looks surprised. Beetroot is usually mute in his presence. ‘Yeah, good. I haven’t seen you for a while.’
He’s noticed! It’s love! Weeeee!
‘No… I’ve been more at the other office recently.’ I grin. ‘Going up in the world.’
Pram safely delivered onto the pavement, he comes back downstairs.
‘Thanks!’ I say.