Have you ever tried kissing a man you desire more than anything in the world with a gearstick lodged between the two of you? It’s an evil metallic chaperone, priggishly digging me in the ribs every time I get too close. I greedily reach out to Charles, twisting out of my seat to get closer. He’s slipping his hand inside my shirt now: a heat-seeking missile, desperate for flesh. I force my seat back, determined to grant him easy access.
‘Baa Baa Black Sheep, have you any wool?’
I nearly jump out of my skin at the high-pitched nasal singing that’s erupted from the back. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘One for the master and one for the dame…’
Charles scrabbles about, desperately searching around the dark recesses of the car.
‘Oh God, Lulu, I’m so sorry. It’s Theo’s sheep. Just hang on.’
I’m ham-fistedly buttoning up my shirt, the spell well and truly broken. Desire a distant memory, all I’m feeling now is slutty and stupid. Meanwhile the sheep’s reaching an unstoppable crescendo. Lucky sheep.
Charles finally shuts it off, but by now I’m unlocking the door.
‘I can’t do this, I really can’t do this.’
He grabs my wrist, awkwardly pulling me towards him.
‘Hey, come back, it’s stopped now.’
‘I mean it, Charles, this couldn’t be more wrong.’
‘Darling, I –’
‘Baa Baa Black Sheep…’
The sheep’s back from the dead, louder and lustier than ever. It’s fighting a rearguard action with the two child car seats, which loom menacingly out of the darkness like twin Alsatians. It’d be bad enough if they belonged to my own children, but of course they don’t. They’re his wife’s. His shadowy, unknowable wife who I’d probably be the best of friends with in a parallel universe – a universe in which I wasn’t her worst nightmare. I know I’m a nice person, I’ve got categorical evidence, so how the hell did I end up here? Please don’t hate me on sight, I’m sure I can explain…