It Started With a Wink

By Julie Dawn Baker

Illustration: Shutterstock

… then led to coffee and fun-filled liaisons after dark… but what will happen if Shirley’s husband finds out?

Shirley and Les met on the first day of the over-fifties’ daytime classes at the village hall. Les, the Fitness for Flexibility and Fun instructor, noticed Shirley looking lost and directed her to the room for Crochet for Beginners.

“It’s a good course,” Les assured her. “I took it a few years ago.”

“You did?” Shirley was surprised. Les didn’t look the type to sit around crocheting, more the hiking, biking type.

In lieu of a reply, Les winked, and Shirley hurried off towards the class where she soon mastered the basics and progressed to more complicated stitches.

Over coffee at the end of the third week, during the break between classes, Les made the first move. Shirley was sitting alone when Pam, the crochet teacher, accompanied by Les, approached her.

“Can’t keep up with this one!” Pam told Les, with a nod towards Shirley, who was putting the finishing touches to a crocheted tote bag. Already an accomplished knitter, Shirley had quickly taken to crochet and completed the first few tasks in record time.

“For you!” With a smile, Pam handed her a booklet entitled 101 Things To Crochet before heading to another group.

Les eyed the booklet.

I didn’t think crocheted scarves and hats would be enough for you, Shirley. You need something more…

Was Les suggesting she switch classes?

“You mean I should join Fitness for Flexibility and Fun?”

Les grinned an enigmatic grin.

“You could, but I have something else in mind. Something more… exciting.”

And there – another suggestive wink.

Later, Shirley wondered if that wink had been a test to see if she would blush and turn away. She didn’t. She smiled, because she was indeed ready for something more exciting than Crochet for Beginners. Shirley was eager for new adventures.

After forty-two years of being married to Dan, Shirley still loved her husband, but their life together had lost its zing. Shirley had hoped they would reconnect when they retired. She’d imagined leisurely country walks, visits to stately homes, long weekends away, and, perhaps, some trips abroad. But Dan had other priorities.

All the DIY he’d put off over the years was top of Dan’s To-Do in Retirement list. He always seemed to be up a ladder these days, painting a ceiling or retiling the roof – emotionally and physically further from Shirley than he’d ever been – so Shirley had signed up for crochet, to fill her time.

Her husband might have been oblivious to her needs, but Les was not.

“Come to my house later. I make a decent cup of coffee,” Les urged, glancing at the watery brew in Shirley’s cup.

Shirley was torn. Dan would be expecting his lunch… but then Shirley looked into Les’s mischievous eyes.

“OK.” She nodded. Dan would just have to make his own cheese and tomato sandwich for once.

Les was waiting for Shirley on the steps of the village hall after class, and the pair walked home together, chatting nonstop.

They soon discovered they were kindred spirits and shared the same quirky outlook on life, cared about the same issues, and laughed at the same zany jokes. Their instant connection reminded Shirley of the days, long ago, when she’d met Dan.

Since meeting Les, Shirley often found herself singing as she did the housework. And Wednesdays couldn’t come round quickly enough; she was always in a rush to get to the hall. There were other meetings too. Secret rendezvous under cover of darkness.

Shirley hadn’t thought she’d find a new passion this late in life, but there it was. She had. With Les.

Weeks turned into months and their new-found delight flourished in the depths of winter, bringing colour and warmth into their lives. As if by magic, the joy they created together seemed to spill over into the lives of everyone around them.

Shirley noticed people in the village were smiling more. It was as if, wherever they went, she and Les left a little trail of love behind them.

Of course, they were always very discreet in public. Their situation was complicated by the fact that Les was well-known in the village, and would be recognised if they were inadvertently caught in a compromising moment. For the first time in her life, Shirley became aware of the plethora of security cameras and doorbell microphones dotted around the community.

Worried that people were getting suspicious when she heard someone whispering, “Did you see them?” during coffee break one Wednesday, Shirley suggested they cool it for a while.

Les didn’t think a temporary halt to their extra-curricular activities was necessary. “And besides, Valentine’s Day is coming up. We have to celebrate that!”

We must be careful though…

Shirley didn’t want any rumours reaching Dan. Thankfully, all Dan seemed worried about was the loss of his favourite jumper. “When are you going to make me a new sweater?” he asked. “Can’t find my red one. It’s cold out.” He’d started repointing the house and was back up his ladder.

“I’ll look for it.” Shirley tucked a stray strand of scarlet yarn to the bottom of her crochet bag as a text arrived from Les.

“Who’s that?” Dan asked.

“Just a friend,” Shirley replied, feeling guilty. One of the things about this whole affair that made her uncomfortable was keeping Dan in the dark. They’d never had any secrets. Until now.

Although he put on a brave face, Dan was worried. Shirl had been different lately. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but the change was disconcerting.

When she started making late-night runs to the supermarket, alarm bells began to ring. Whenever they’d run out of necessities in the past, Shirl had been more than happy to wait until the next day to replenish them, but now she often popped out to buy toilet tissue and toothpaste in the dead of night. She was always gone a little longer than was plausible, and when she returned, there was a glow about her.

Despising himself for even suspecting it, Dan wondered if his wife had met someone else. They’d been married for over forty years, and he’d believed they were happy, but now he wasn’t so sure.

On Valentine’s Day at quarter to three in the morning, Shirl’s phone lit up with an incoming text. Dan, lying awake worrying, felt Shirl reach for her phone then slip silently from their marital bed.

Sensing her staring at him in the darkness, he pretended to be asleep. Hardly daring to breathe, he heard her opening a drawer in the spare bedroom, then minutes later the gentle ‘click’ of the front door being closed.

Dan leapt from the bed, and peeked out of the window in time to see Shirl’s silver hatchback driving away.

Barrelling downstairs and grabbing his own keys from the hook in the kitchen, he spotted the note left on the kitchen table.

Couldn’t sleep. Gone for Ovaltine xx

Ovaltine my foot! A blatant and unconvincing attempt to cover her back in case he awoke and found her gone. Still in his pyjamas, Dan headed for the all-night supermarket on the bypass.

After circling the car park twice, he confirmed she wasn’t there. With a heavy heart, Dan headed back to the village and drove slowly around the quiet streets. He was about to give up when he glanced down the tree-lined cul-de-sac that backed onto the park. Bingo!

Dan prowled up and down the road, eying the bungalows suspiciously, trying not to imagine what might be taking place behind the closed curtains of one of them. And then he heard it. A peal of laughter, followed by shushing, then more giggling. The sounds were coming from the park.

Dan caught Shirley and Les in flagrante delicto on the bench in front of the duck pond.

Hiding behind a bushy evergreen, Dan watched his wife and a silver-haired woman wrestling with a crocheted cover they had draped across the wooden bench.

“I think we might have got the measurements wrong, Les,” Dan heard Shirley whisper.

“No, it’ll go! Give it a tug!” The older woman yanked at her end of the multi-coloured woollen creation.

Need a hand with that, ladies?

Dan stepped into view.

“Dan! What are you doing here?”

“I followed you… I thought…”

Even in the darkness, the relief on Dan’s face was clear, and Shirley knew exactly what he’d suspected.

There were tears and regrets. Shirley hadn’t kept so much as a parking ticket from him in forty-two years.

“Oh Dan!” she sighed, letting go of the cover and throwing her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, but it’s been so much fun sneaking around the village at night…”

Unfazed by Dan’s interruption, Les continued tugging at the crochet cover.

“I take it this is your husband?”

“Yes! Les, this is Dan, Dan, this is my friend Les…”

“Now might not be the time for formal introductions. Time is of the essence. Dan, grab that end and pull!” Les took charge.

Between the three of them, the cover was soon in place.

“Looks great!” Dan was impressed with Shirl and Les’s handiwork.

“You should see it in daylight. The colours are fabulous.”

That afternoon, Dan and Shirley took a stroll through the park. With arms around each other, they stopped beside the bench to admire the vibrant pink and red hearts decorating the custom cover.

The Valentine themed yarn-bomb was quite the sensation. The village was abuzz.

“Amazing!”

“A ray of sunshine on a cloudy day!” exclaimed a couple of young mums pushing buggies.

Everyone who walked by the bench stopped to admire it, and left with a smile on their face.

They were about to move on, when Dan nudged Shirley.

Looks like you and your partner in crime are going to make the news!

A van from the local TV station had pulled up and a reporter and cameraman were heading for the bench. A crowd gathered as the reporter began her spiel.

“It started with a few trees being wrapped in colourful blankets last October, and then crocheted poppies were strung around the war memorial in November. A Christmas themed cosy topped the village post-box in December, and last month, a teddy bears’ picnic was discovered in the garden of the local preschool. Today, to celebrate Valentine’s Day, the local yarn-bombers have left their calling-card on a bench in the park!”

The camera panned to a middle-aged couple sitting on the bench. The reporter asked, “Do you have any idea who’s creating these woollen works of art?”

“No! It’s a mystery. But I think of whoever’s responsible as love-bombers rather than yarn-bombers, because they’re spreading love and joy!” the woman said.

The reporter nodded. “Anonymous crafters saying Happy Valentine’s Day in their own special way! The love-bombers have struck again!”

Dan squeezed Shirl’s hand, and felt quite proud to be part of the love-bomb squad. Last night, Les and Shirl swore him to secrecy and filled him in on the yarn-bombing trend. Apparently the movement had its own international day – June the eleventh – and the girls were planning something special.

“Your skill with ladders will be quite handy,” Shirley told him.

Later, when the crowd had dispersed, and the news crew departed, Dan and Shirley sat for a while on the bench. Running his finger across one of the bright red hearts adorning the cover, Dan caught Shirl’s eye.

“I know what happened to my old red sweater,” he said with a grin and a wink.