Faith waved, smiled and closed the door on the little group who’d decided it would be highly original to serenade her with the George Michael song all the way home from the pub.

She wondered what was involved in a legal name change but knew it wouldn’t be worth the effort unless she did a witness protection programme-level location move as well.

She’d been enjoying a quiet night out at the pub with a few friends when a few lads from a visiting rugby team had decided their group was in need of male company and most of her friends were more than happy to accommodate.

They were nice enough, Faith was happy enough to chat with them as well. There was one in particular, a dark-haired, blue-eyed charmer who had done his best to monopolise her attention, but even he wasn’t proof against the general revelation of her name.

He’d grinned and asked if her sisters were named Hope and Charity. Truth was, they were, and she wasn’t quite sure how to tell him but he was cut off by one of his mates starting the singing session going.

As always, that signalled a splitting headache for Faith and what was usually a quiet exit while pretending to pop to the loo.

Unfortunately, they’d decided to leave as well, and she’d had to endure it the whole way home.

At least they wouldn’t know which flat she was in. Her building was deceptive, with a small façade giving entry (residents only) into a generous, sun-trap of a shared garden ringed about by houses, all now divided into apartments.

She checked her mail and was about to head across the garden to the blessed peace of home when someone started knocking at the front door.

She peeked through the decorative glass on the side of the door frame, it seemed to be her admirer from the pub.

Faith took a deep breath and half opened the door, ready to slam it shut if she found herself being inundated with ebullient footballers. It was just him.

“I’m sorry, the lads are a bit much when they get going and, well, I guess I’m just as bad.”

Faith opened the door further, and propped herself against the frame, looking at him curiously.

“I mean, the minute I manage to get your name from you, instead of telling you it’s one of the prettiest names I’ve ever heard, which it is, I make some stupid, inane comment about sisters you probably don’t even have.”

Faith started to answer but he shook his head, “No, it was badly done of me and I need to apologise. But I’m hoping if you realise that I’m not normally quite the clod I’ve managed to be tonight that you’ll give me your number and I can maybe treat you to lunch tomorrow. So, Faith, I’m incredibly sorry for being a daft oaf and hope it hasn’t ruined all my chances for getting to know a lovely girl a bit better.”

Faith smiled, “Lunch sounds lovely.”

She gave him her number, then watched him go with a smile far more genuine than the one she’d previously closed the door wearing.

Sleep came easily that night, with a warm feeling of anticipation for the morning. It didn’t disappoint.

She was up and making coffee when her phone pinged.

Morning pretty Faith, I’m hoping you’re still inclined to look kindly on me this morning and can advise on the best place to take you to lunch to make up for being an idiot.

She smiled and typed out a quick reply.

I’ll look on you more kindly if you tell me your name. It means I won’t look quite so silly when I meet you for lunch at the Happy Rabbit on Old Market Square. Say 12:30?

The response was almost immediate.

I’ll see you there, the name’s Marcus.

 She grinned and sent one more message.

By the way, I have three sisters, their names are Hope, Charity and Patience.

The string of emojis he sent back made her laugh out loud.

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