Our First Date

“Hello !”

I yelled down the receiver as I squashed and balanced the handset between my shoulder and my left ear whilst holding the hot saucepan in my right hand.


“Er…is it a bad time?” came the reply.
I recognised the Irish accent and cursed quietly to myself.


“Why did I have to pick the damn phone up?”
“No, No….its fine” I lied.
“Its Mick, Do you remember me from last night?” he asked.
“Of course I do,” I giggled, rolling my eyes in exasperation.
“Hang on!” I added, “You told me your name was Jon”
“Oh, I did?” he chuckled,
“doesn’t matter, you can call me whatever you like”
“Ok, i`ll call you Jon then, i`m not calling an Irishman Mick!”
We both laughed. 

Their eyes shone with mischievousness as I explained my plans to my two youngest children.
“What if he sees us Mum?” Jemma asked.
“He wont be expecting two children to be looking for him, will he?” I replied.
“Go now and remember – man standing outside pub or sitting in convertible car outside pub”,


With that, the two of them were gone - out the front door, giggling as they ran up to the end of the road. Within three minutes they were back, standing, panting in the lounge, obviously exhilarated by their introduction to espionage.

“There was no-one there Mum” Charley squeaked, struggling for breathe as they had run the whole distance.


I sighed with relief.

I didn’t fancy him anyway and had no intention whatsoever in going on a date with him. I had agreed to meet him whilst in a state of drunkenness at my local club the previous week, even though I was not the slightest bit attracted to the gentle-speaking Irishman. I had seen him in the club on several occasions and was a little intrigued by his manner. He didn’t appear to be overly confident and didn’t look as if he was enjoying himself particularly either. My group of friends were familiar with his group of friends, but no-one took much notice of the silent Irishman with the glazed-over eyes.

“You alright Love?”,

I felt someone`s hand shaking my shoulder to rouse me. I slowly raised my head to see three men standing in front of me. I smiled and assured them I would be fine once I had found my friend, who had disappeared a while ago. I remember waffling on about us girls always sticking together and being somewhat perplexed as to why they had not returned sooner. I recognised the three guys as Frank and his two friends – one of them being Jon. They stood and attempted a light conversation with me but I was well past wanting to converse with anyone. It must have been about 1am, I had had enough to drink and my feet ached from dancing. All I wanted was for my friends to return so we could leave the club.
Eventually, it dawned on me that neither of the girls I had gone with were going to return. I was angry and confused. Jon offered to walk me to my car as long as I dropped him off in Harrow. I agreed to being escorted to the car but was not prepared to drive into Harrow.


“I`ll drop you at the end of my road in Harrow Weald” I told him.


He was happy with my offer and we took the long path back to the car together, me leaning on him for support. The club was within a mile of my home, so I saw nothing wrong in rolling the car down the hill towards home with a little alcohol in my blood. After all, there were no traffic lights to encounter and only one smallish roundabout to negotiate that was always clear in the early hours of the morning. I had a convertible escort at the time and was having trouble with a stiff catch on the roof. Consequently, I was not always able to do the left hand side of the roof up properly. On this particular occasion the roof was loose as I had been unable to force the catch closed. I informed Jon that he must hold on to the roof as we drove down hill. I was passed the point of being embarrassed about my cars` inadequacies and giggled at the silliness of the situation all the way home. As promised, he happily left me at the top of my road without so much as a kiss goodbye. I was relieved and somewhat touched by his gentlemanly behaviour.


He did however make me promise to turn up for our next date.