An ode to the builder boyfriend

Relationships are about compromise and no wonder so many of us come a cropper in this department when we don’t embrace this central truth. There is a man out there (using the term loosely) who would dutifully follow my orders to go to a fancy boutique during his trip to London and buy me an Ortigia liquid soap in Zagara fragrance, but that man is not the builder boyfriend.

All the time the BB has been away the spaniels have pined for him and been hypervigilant, barking at every sound

A few years ago, I forced him into a shop called Evie Loves Toast to buy me this posh hand wash for my birthday and he later told me he tackled the girl behind the counter. ‘Who is Evie and why does she love toast?’

I’m sure the girl explained as best she could. Naturally, Evie is going to be a child connected to the owner and she won’t have a particular relationship to toast, it’s just a lovely name for a lovely shop that appeals to lovely ladies. But the BB insisted on extracting an answer and declared himself unsatisfied with it.

Thereafter, for a long time he kept coming up with names for shops selling flowery dresses, candles and greeting cards. ‘What about Nora Likes Foreign Imports?’ This, and much ruder ones, amused him no end.

I told him he just didn’t get what makes ladies tick.

But he can leap on to a roof to fix a leaking gutter or fence six acres by driving 100 posts into the ground in one day without breaking a sweat.

And he knows how to hold me up when I’m having an emotional meltdown at what’s going on in the world. Sometimes this takes the form of telling me I’m ‘all over the place’. He’s right enough, but then we have a row because I don’t want to be told that.