About eight years ago some mutual friends put Darl and me in touch, thinking we’d be a good match. We’d talked on the phone a bit, but hadn’t found the time to meet in person. I lived in Busselton, Western Australia, and she lived about a 30-minute drive away.Then on St Paddy’s Day my mates and I invited some friends around to the Star hotel, which was what we called our share house at the time. It was a bit of a bachelor pad with a bar set-up, and I made some really bad mojitos. But when Darl arrived, they improved a lot – she knew what she was doing behind the bar.Darl ticked all the boxes, but what I liked about her most was her honesty. She was easy to talk to and she was capable too, the sort of person who would get in and do things rather than stand around talking about them.‘Darl works harder than anyone I know’: Jack and Darl at Yeagarup beach, Western Australia in 2021Bec is her real name but I’ve called her “Darl” ever since we met. It was just a pet name, but then all my mates started calling her that too. Now it’s stuck. We were clearly attracted to each other, but I eased into things because Darl had a young daughter, Arrebella, who was about eight at the time. Some nights I’d make them dinner and then leave the two girls to it. I didn’t want to rush in.Those early years were pretty wholesome: cooking, gardening, playing music. About a year in, we moved into a place of our own.Darl works harder than anyone I know. She’s in real estate now, but four years ago she started helping me with my music career. I have keratoconus, an eye condition where the cornea thins and bulges over time, distorting my vision. Technology isn’t my strong suit, so Darl looks after the online stuff and drives me to most gigs.