back.
“I had my heart broken and I didn’t want to settle down so far away from my family and friends – plus it just seemed the right time.”
She nodded. “Sometimes the fates conspire to tell you something don’t they?” She indicated my empty glass. “Can I get you another?”
“I’ll get them,” I said. I was up and walking before she could say no.
At the bar, I wondered where all this was going and also marvelled at how random it was too. I turned back when I got to the bar and she was watching – when she saw me turn she abruptly looked the other way. We were getting on really well and the spark we’d shared on our first meeting was definitely still there. I tried to locate the feeling that was growing in the pit of my stomach and settled on excitement mixed with fear – not such an unhealthy response to the first woman who’d flicked a switch since Karen (bypassing the ill-fated Ange).
But I still wasn’t sure I was ready for this, still wasn’t sure I didn’t have too much baggage to carry from the last relationship into the next. Whenever I’d flipped the coin of love before it’d fallen pain-side up. Could I trust that the odds would be stacked in my favour sooner rather than later?
However, that was all in the future. Right now, I wasn’t in a relationship with Lucy and all I was doing was having impromptu Saturday lunchtime drinks – nothing more, nothing less. As I walked back to where she sat I sipped my pint to stop it from spilling and tried to look nonchalant. I sat down giving her a full-beam smile.
“So tell me about your heavy week and your new job…” she said.
We sat together chatting for another 45 minutes before parting and confirming numbers, promising to meet up for a drink soon and this time sans bike and perhaps even inside a bar. As she cycled away, turning back to wave once before her legs swung into motion, I hoped she was as buoyed by our meeting as I was. I knew one thing – I had better hit the shops to take my mind off of things before my thought process spiralled out of control and I was married to her with two cats.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I got home later that day having been successful in my shopping quest, managing two new tops and a pair of jeans. I’d also had a smile glued to my face the whole afternoon.
I let myself into the flat and went up the stairs to be greeted by Kate singing loudly along to Pulp’s Common People . I could smell onions and garlic on the stove as I hung up my coat in the hallway and walked towards the pastel-blue kitchen. Kate was completely unawares, topping up her wine glass and stirring her food. I tapped her on the shoulder and she screamed.
“Jesus!”
“No, Jess.”
“You scared me you moron.”
“Turn the music down then. Lucky I’m not an axe murderer.”
“I didn’t give them any of my keys,” she said.
I lowered the volume on the radio that was placed next to the juicer Kate had bought six months ago in a fit of health. It had yet to be introduced to the art of juicing.
“And you’ve turned into Nigella in my absence I see.”
“Jamie actually. This is his new spag bol recipe which reckons it needs to simmer for over two hours, hence the early start time.”
“Sounds great. I’m off for a shower.”
“I’ll pour you a glass of wine,” she shouted. I retreated down the hallway and heard the volume get turned back up, along with Kate’s singing voice.
I particularly liked the bathroom in Kate’s flat, decorated in classic black and white with a walk-in shower big enough for two. She didn’t have a bath but I wasn’t really a bath person so that didn’t bother me. Once inside the huge shower I lathered up my hair and body, standing under the jets of water for far longer than necessary and enjoying the feeling of them hitting my skin.
So, I’d had drinks with a new woman – not quite a date but I hoped there would be an official one. Perhaps we would go out to dinner and she would
“I had my heart broken and I didn’t want to settle down so far away from my family and friends – plus it just seemed the right time.”
She nodded. “Sometimes the fates conspire to tell you something don’t they?” She indicated my empty glass. “Can I get you another?”
“I’ll get them,” I said. I was up and walking before she could say no.
At the bar, I wondered where all this was going and also marvelled at how random it was too. I turned back when I got to the bar and she was watching – when she saw me turn she abruptly looked the other way. We were getting on really well and the spark we’d shared on our first meeting was definitely still there. I tried to locate the feeling that was growing in the pit of my stomach and settled on excitement mixed with fear – not such an unhealthy response to the first woman who’d flicked a switch since Karen (bypassing the ill-fated Ange).
But I still wasn’t sure I was ready for this, still wasn’t sure I didn’t have too much baggage to carry from the last relationship into the next. Whenever I’d flipped the coin of love before it’d fallen pain-side up. Could I trust that the odds would be stacked in my favour sooner rather than later?
However, that was all in the future. Right now, I wasn’t in a relationship with Lucy and all I was doing was having impromptu Saturday lunchtime drinks – nothing more, nothing less. As I walked back to where she sat I sipped my pint to stop it from spilling and tried to look nonchalant. I sat down giving her a full-beam smile.
“So tell me about your heavy week and your new job…” she said.
We sat together chatting for another 45 minutes before parting and confirming numbers, promising to meet up for a drink soon and this time sans bike and perhaps even inside a bar. As she cycled away, turning back to wave once before her legs swung into motion, I hoped she was as buoyed by our meeting as I was. I knew one thing – I had better hit the shops to take my mind off of things before my thought process spiralled out of control and I was married to her with two cats.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I got home later that day having been successful in my shopping quest, managing two new tops and a pair of jeans. I’d also had a smile glued to my face the whole afternoon.
I let myself into the flat and went up the stairs to be greeted by Kate singing loudly along to Pulp’s Common People . I could smell onions and garlic on the stove as I hung up my coat in the hallway and walked towards the pastel-blue kitchen. Kate was completely unawares, topping up her wine glass and stirring her food. I tapped her on the shoulder and she screamed.
“Jesus!”
“No, Jess.”
“You scared me you moron.”
“Turn the music down then. Lucky I’m not an axe murderer.”
“I didn’t give them any of my keys,” she said.
I lowered the volume on the radio that was placed next to the juicer Kate had bought six months ago in a fit of health. It had yet to be introduced to the art of juicing.
“And you’ve turned into Nigella in my absence I see.”
“Jamie actually. This is his new spag bol recipe which reckons it needs to simmer for over two hours, hence the early start time.”
“Sounds great. I’m off for a shower.”
“I’ll pour you a glass of wine,” she shouted. I retreated down the hallway and heard the volume get turned back up, along with Kate’s singing voice.
I particularly liked the bathroom in Kate’s flat, decorated in classic black and white with a walk-in shower big enough for two. She didn’t have a bath but I wasn’t really a bath person so that didn’t bother me. Once inside the huge shower I lathered up my hair and body, standing under the jets of water for far longer than necessary and enjoying the feeling of them hitting my skin.
So, I’d had drinks with a new woman – not quite a date but I hoped there would be an official one. Perhaps we would go out to dinner and she would
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