If you don’t ask, you can’t get

 

This all took place soon after I met my wife Grace.

“Anybody know anyone who can plaster? I need to finish off this fireplace. It’s on my list for this year.” Grace was speaking at the workshop group we both went to. As usual at these personal development groups I was the only man. Why look for competition?

“I can plaster a bit,” I said. “I’m not an expert, but what I do does the job.”

“OK, thanks” she said. “You want to come and look at it?”

The house was a typical Plymouth Victorian with two receptions and a long tenement at the back. The fireplace was in the front room; she had torn out the old grate and left a big dirty gaping hole with tattered edges.

“Linzi and I took a crowbar to it. I swore I wasn’t going to look at that fireplace another year.”

She was tiny, dark-haired and Irish, with pale skin, a deep voice and a cheeky look. I liked her, she was unusual and intriguing. She wasn’t one of the I’m looking for someone and you’ll do gang. You get a lot of that when you’re forty, divorced, employed and solvent. Not to mention handsome and a good cook.

“OK, I’ll come next week, Saturday OK again?”

“What’ll it cost?”

“Only about a fiver for a bag of plaster. I’ve got all the tools.”

“What about your time?”

“It’s no problem, I like to help.”

“OK, I’ll buy us a Chinese afterwards. That do?”

“Sure.” On the doorstep I said “What are you doing tonight? Fancy a drink?”

“I was planning to go to a party up the road.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to talk you out of any plans you have.”

She kind of twinkled at me and said”Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Try what?”

“To talk me out of my plans.”

So I did.

I did the fireplace, it was no big deal. A real plasterer could have done about six of them in a day, but I was happy to get a nice looking job for her. She was a single mum with three kids, two still at home, and a real plasterer would probably have stretched her budget too far.

At about six I went home to clean up and change and she followed on a little later with the Chinese food. We ate it with a glass of cold white wine, and the conversation was easy and warm. When I offered her a second glass she said:

“I’ve got the car, I’m driving home”

“Kids at home?”

“Sleeping over with friends”

“I guess you don’t have to go home if you want to have another glass”

She twinkled again. “Are you asking me to stay over?”

“It would appear so.”

So she did.

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