I don’t want to shock you, but I feel we know each other well enough for me to be honest with you.
Since lockdown began, I’ve been seeing other men.
It all started in April. Things were weird, the sun was out and I was facing a year of many challenges. So, when a rather handsome gardener appeared and started building a polytunnel on our veg patch, I found myself spending a lot of time with him. I took him over cups of coffee as he dug the foundations, offered him lunch as he hammered the base together and then invited him home for dinner once he had it all done. One thing led to another, as it will do.
Two manky old beds at the back of the house filled with aggressive and pointless spiky plants were transformed into beautiful flower borders.
This fine young man then turned his attentions to our back garden and started doing lots of little jobs we’d been meaning to get around to for years. He fixed the old pew and turned it into a herb garden. He built a pond out of an old boat. There seemed to be no end to his talents. Thanks to him, the family were enjoying a bumper crop of fruit and veg and a weed-free and well-ordered veg patch. Two manky old beds at the back of the house filled with aggressive and pointless spiky plants were transformed into beautiful flower borders.
Next, a handyman appeared. He too got going on any number of little jobs around the house and garden which my husband and I had had on the to do list for years. I offered him cups of tea and lunch and we even went out together a few times.
As autumn approached, the gardener cut down on his days and we got in a plumber, and a painter and decorator. They repainted the kitchen and changed everything around so that it made sense (it never has). Shamefaced, I showed them our downstairs bathroom, which has been in dire need of a jolly good makeover for many years. Nothing daunted, they ripped the whole lot out, repainted, put in a new loo and basin and even bought new towels and little candles to make it look really posh. Going to the toilet now is an absolute delight. Every time I exit the bathroom, I think of our plumber and it gives me a warm glow.
This is not my bathroom. It is an image I found on Pixabay.
You’re probably wondering how my husband felt about all this. Fine, is the answer. Absolutely fine.
Since March, we’ve all started taking on new roles. My husband and I were planning to spend most of the year being caterers, but that is over for the foreseeable future. A friend of mine was running a thriving beauty business, but stymied by restrictions, she began her own little gardening company which is going very well. I started the year as a freelance writer and will end it as a novelist with a publishing deal.
One of our favourite films is, “The Madness of King George.” In it, there’s a great scene where the Duke of York (Julian Rhind-Tutt) tells his brother (Rupert Everett) that he’s just found out he’s the Bishop of Osnabruck. “Remarkable what one is, really,” he muses.
And so it is. Quite remarkable. We all have hidden talents, unplumbed depths, unconscious abilities. Sometimes, it takes a life-changing situation to bring them all to the surface.
This year has brought fear, uncertainty, apprehension and worry into all our lives. Some of us have had to make sweeping changes and most of us are living a new normal. Life has given us lemons, but we can use them to make a new and exciting kind of lemonade (if you’ll excuse the torturous metaphor).
Tonight, I’ve invited the gardener, the handyman, the plumber and the painter and decorator over for dinner. But it’s OK. We’re not breaking the Rule of Six. There will be five of us, as there are every evening. Six, if you count the kitten.
What’s your new normal?