If I did come out, what would I do? Make a pass at Matt? Try and persuade him to dump Steve and come out with me? Because, let's face it, I was such a bloody catch-still technically married, jobless, and, when the house sale went through, homeless. Not to mention having spent nearly thirty years cowering in the closet. And the grey pubes-mustn't forget those. Oh, yes, he'd definitely prefer my neurotic self to the bloke with the house in the New Forest and hot-and-cold-running ponies.
And anyway, looked at from Matt's point of view, trying to chat him up would actually be kind of insulting. Like I was just assuming that gay men were incapable of fidelity and moreover, permanently up for it with anyone who offered. Even a posh tosser who didn't know his arse from his axle and was standing in for Matt's boss, for Christ's sake. I punched a sofa cushion in frustration.
Wolverine startled awake, ears pricked and tail twitching. I tensed, anticipating multiple puncture wounds in a sensitive area, but he merely fixed me with an exasperated glare and settled back down to sleep. "Are you going soft on me?" I asked, incredulous.
Either that or his stomach was still feeling too delicate for any major bloodbaths right now. I stroked his back rhythmically, all too aware it was more for my benefit than his. Embracing my inner poof would be a stupid idea, I thought with a sigh. Even if I accepted Matt wasn't going to be mine and tried to find another bloke, what did I know about gay relationships? Or pulling a bloke in the first place, for that matter? It'd be pretty bloody ironic if I came out as gay and then totally failed to find a man who was interested in me.
I'd have changed my whole life, exposed myself to ridicule, for nothing.
On the TV, DCI Barnaby pursed his lips as he discovered the incestuous love affair that had sparked the whole sorry series of events in Badger's Drift. Unconventional relationships, he seemed to say, never end well.
Was he right? Would it be madness to risk so much, with so little chance of happiness at the end of it all?
I didn't know.
But at least then I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life knowing I was a coward and wondering what I was missing.
***
I woke up late on Tuesday morning after a bad night's sleep with my hair sticking up in all directions and no time for a shower. Well, that solved the Matt question nicely. Clearly there was no chance of him ever fancying me once he'd seen what a god-awful state I woke up in. I flattened my hair down with a bit of water and watched morosely as it sprang straight back up again.
No wonder hats were so popular in years gone by. What I wouldn't give for a stylish trilby or fedora right now. There was a beanie in Jay's wardrobe, but it wasn't quite the same. I pulled it on anyhow, hoping it might flatten my hair down. It made me look like a giant matchstick on legs, but I could always take it off before I went to the shop.
I reckoned I just about had time for a cup of coffee-if I didn't feed the cat. "Nobody should have to deal with a moral dilemma like this first thing in the morning," I groused, stumbling downstairs to the kitchen. Wolverine gave me a smug look as his breakfast hit his bowl, and I set off on my caffeine-deprived drive to the shop, snarling at anyone who dared to hold me up on the way.
I got there just a few minutes after we were supposed to open. Fortunately, there were no queues of impatient customers demanding their right to purchase a pump adaptor on the dot of nine thirty. Matt wasn't there either. I wondered if his timekeeping was this erratic when Jay was around and decided it probably was. Matt didn't seem the sort to take advantage of the boss being away-just the terminally disorganised sort. I smiled just thinking of him-there was something rather endearing about his scattiness.
By the time I'd switched on the till and filled it up with cash from the safe, noting we were getting short of change, Matt had finally arrived. I did a double take as he walked in the door. "Has Olivia talked you into collagen injections? Because I think you ought to ask for your money back."
Matt smiled even more lopsidely than usual. "You mean this?" He touched his swollen lip with understandable caution, then crouched down to re-tie the laces of one of his trainers. "Hit a low branch out in the forest," he explained to his feet.
"You know, they say some people are an accident waiting to happen-maybe you ought to try and work on the waiting part?" I said with fond exasperation. "Have you always been this injury-prone?"
Still with his head down-how long could one shoelace take to tie?-Matt shrugged and muttered something I didn't catch. Then he rose and disappeared into the back room.
Bugger. I'd overstepped the mark, it seemed. I followed him in there, and he looked round warily. "Sorry," I said. "I keep forgetting we don't really know each other well enough for me to be a bastard to you and expect you to think it's funny."