The Freedom to Work - Yes Please

This short story still in its rough form is dedicated to Nicki  and Cathy and all those that have to chose to suffer in silence.

Freedom To Work

Yes Please!

I’ve been living in this flat now for almost six months, and each and every day I get a quick hello from my neighbour, who then decides to come round for coffee, unannounced, with her cat!

Now for some with the simple freedom of choice and with a “normal ability to live”, they would think this innocuous and what appears to be friendly, neighbourly thing to do, a charitable and much needed contact with the outside world, especially for someone who is chronically ill like me. So do I, well in a way. You see the problem I have is that I don’t have the freedom to walk away. I’m pinned down by a body that can’t. I have to say and be lectured everyday about how working could improve my spirits – I don’t need to be told this, I know this. My mind craves difference and when I give it a go, something pulls the plug on my neurons and I am left with intermittent thinking, of the fuzzy kind, no crystal clear thoughts for me.

She explains how the money would give me the ability to live so that I no longer live in squalor! Yes she actually used the word squalor! As if I am some complete moron who never gave that a thought! What makes it so awful and wretched is that she is right, it is a squalid flat! What can you say to that, how can you defend yourself? You see, each night someone, while I am asleep pumps my body with lead, seriously I’m not kidding! Some days just looking after my own hygiene is all my body can take. Innately I am a very organised and tidy person, squalor makes me depressed.

Anyhow I bet even a saint would lose their patients under this much scrutiny, and believe me I’m no saint, nor would I want to be. I’m more of – live life to the full type of gal, why walk when you can dance, why dance when you can rock?

I’m rocking now, although I’m not entirely sure if I’m rocking to get out of the chair Sam sees me as she walks to work or in pain. I just don’t want to face that encouraging smile this morning; I’m not in the mood! My halo has gone missing! But I’m too late; her face is at the window of my bedroom.

‘Morning Katie, How are you this morning?’

‘I’m fine, and you?’

‘Oh I’m loving the spring, perhaps we can go for a walk when I get home - blow a few cobwebs away, make you feel better?’ I slap a smile on my face and she is gone. I know what I would like to blow away.

‘I don’t want to think how I am Sam!’ I grumble and groan as my body adjust to the upright position. I close my eyes as the dizziness kicks in. It makes it real, and I don’t want my reality to be all there is thank you very much – I want to live in a dream world of fluffy clouds for as long as I can. I look across at the time on my phone, ‘I bet a get a shimmy on, my mum will be around in two hours and I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet!’

As I had feared Sam came round that evening, she promised she was on a flying visit. I know though she is trying to get me out of the house as promised this morning. I told her I was waiting for company so now she is waiting to see who that could be. She sips at the coffee that I have just made her. Which means: I won’t be able to finish the prep for my evening meal – I simply won’t have enough energy to do it now!

Sounds stupid doesn’t it? You can’t explain it to anyone who has no difficulty in moving, their blood flow, breathing, with their energy all being normal. Looking at me I don’t look disabled. I ponder on that thought as the devil cat winds her tail lazily and lovingly around my leg. I tense up, not because I hate cats but because I know what is coming, but I don’t know when. The pounce of the Duchess the devil cat is always unpredictable and unprovoked.

‘I saw you out at lunch time with your mum. That must have been a nice change for you? Made you feel better?’ Duchess devil cat jumped upon my legs and purred comforting soft velvet purrs the kind that makes you sleepy. Her warm soft fur comforted my knee joints and a connection was made between animal and human.

‘Yep’ I false smile into my hot chocolate, no point telling the truth. I remember my mum’s face when she took the full force of abuse hurled at her this morning. You see I have a disability badge; it took two years to get it! Even though I am house bound, I still have to go to see the GP, and there is no parking nearby, and the journey alone will make me so sick it will render me bed bound for the next week or more, apparently I still did not constitute a badge! I refuse to use the wheelchair, so it makes it worse. You see the whole process of getting the badge and Department Work and Pensions forms and interviews; they insisted I attended, not only put my health in jeopardy but made me feel worthless.

The process of losing all your function after you do any daily living, is innocuously called Post Exertional Malaise; PEM for short. It is more a kin to having a heart attack or stroke though; as my body closes down to conserve the precious oxygen my body craves. Because my brain is constantly starved of oxygen when I over do things. My body just cannot utilise oxygen or energy, every system in my body is compromised. It is a hard concept to get your mind around. My mum has been a rock for me and she has got her head around it, but we are all allowed to lose it from time to time, my mum lost it big time today.

‘Where did you go?’ Sam asked. I didn’t want to say disability aids, so I lied.

‘We fancied getting so good underwear but we were naughty and brought the most glamorous frilly knickers’. I wish my life could cope with frilly knickers I privately thought. ‘We are fed up with the Polk Dot bloomers we normally get’. She had to gulp down the coffee; she had been daintily and slowly sipping! I lowered my eyes as I smugly smiled into my hot chocolate.

My mum’s beleaguered face haunts me, her frustration hurts me. I had just finished my degree you see when I was struck down with a virus that left me this way; I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, the most hated condition of modern time, with I have to say the most stupid and misleading name. Fatigue, everyone has fatigue and I wish it was just a case of fatigue.

My mum was so so proud of me at my graduation; all those struggles to get me through Uni were worth it she told me. My job was to die for, and I would have if my body had let me. We value ability is highly prised; I have no ability, so I am worthless? Today for the first time I felt worthless to my mum. All her dreams had been shattered, they had splintered like a mirror, we only caught glimpses of our former happy self’s. Mum had to give up work to look after me; she lost most of her friends and a life she loved.

Sam drew out of her bag my latest prescription, it was a trial medication and I could see she was itching to ask questions. Sam worked at the Health Centre; she was the softly spoken dragon that refused to help in a helpful manor that mirrors her personality. This job perpetuates her belief that she is a most helpful and understanding person. I’ve seen people staring at her in disbelief at the reception with the comments she comes out with. It makes me smile; I am not the only person she does this to so now I don’t take it so personally.  

‘Would you like to take the cups in the kitchen, I’ve finished my coffee.’ Sam encouraged me to move. I bit my tong but –

‘No that’s Ok Sam, just put it on the coffee table next to you’ Duchess digs her claws in very painfully. As I knocked her off my lap and Sam was about to protest the door opened, and in walked in Peter and his crew followed by Dr Burns.

The suit was amazing, worn under clothes you could not tell you had it on. Even I was impressed with my design and I don’t get impressed with myself very often. The head band was the same and I marvelled at the lightweight and complexity of it all. A small app was transferred to my phone and Sam was bristling with pride that she knew me, which was a first! She was visibly astounded when the whole team congratulated me and said they were in ore of me, considering my disabilities and how much thought had gone into the concept.

‘We have all had a go with it, and boy - were we pleased with the function. Not all of us could cope with wearing it though’ He looked over to Dr Bures. ‘Possibly a couple of tweaks would be needed after someone with a non-biased opinion could be found.

Well what would you do if you were in my position? Would you take full advantage of it, and put your neighbour forward - an ability to get the truth over let alone some well-earned revenge? Well I didn’t have to worry about that, as though by magic with Sam jumped up and offered herself as a guinea pig.

‘Although there is nothing that could compare with what you go through on a day to day basis’ Tom looked at me with such earnest eyes that it made me bloom inside. ‘I think if we did anymore it would be torture for torture sake, and not research practical.’ I have always loved Tom, from our first lecture together. His like a universe of possibilities.

‘Dr Burns was going to take part and as kindly agreed to ask his staff, if they would like to take part in the trial.’ Tom sparked interest in Sam in more ways than one and she took the suit and bristled up to her full height of 5ft nothing, patient high heels, formal skirt and diamanté hairclip in her perfectly plated blond hair, leaning into Tom.

“What a splendid idea Dr Burns”, Sam’s smooth as treacle and sweet as acid voice oozed something like sincerity; which she may later regret. I understand how this illness is.’ Dr Burns looked over to me puzzled. ‘I live next door to Kate; I’ve taken her under my wing’

‘Smother me more like’ I grumpily whispered out of earshot of Sam.

‘I think we should all have a go with the suit, so we can truly understand how it is for these poor people.’ Big mistake lady I thought to myself, as her condescending ways got stuck in my throat so no worlds came out. She had asked no further questions, silly woman.

‘If I try it on now and give it a go, then you can tweak it and the sooner we can start to trial it out’.

‘Splendid beamed Tom.’ I opened and shut my mouth. I should warn her?

Now the thing you must remember of Sam, she has a condition which she equates to every other long term illness since she found out about it. Now, I would not belittle anyone’s condition, but just having one condition does not give you a right to say you understand, or give out the impression you would be able to take on any illness and work through it. You can see my dilemma can’t you? Should I go easy or should I ramp up the ‘muscle cruncher’?

They took great pains in explaining how the suit works, now that she had it on. The electrical currents to simulate the pain, the tightening and how it took impulses from the brain to collect data, how the joints had sensors to show instability and how that affects lactic acid expression, the heaviness of the thin material and how they could control it. She did try to ask how light material can make your bodies limbs feel like lead, but she was no geek and they were off the geek Richter scale. They did explain that they could only cope with 7 on the pain dial app themselves. The dial went up to 14 which is about where they thought my pain was at. I saw a flicker of I’ll show them how it’s done, dance with glee across her face.

Sam was giddy with her own importance, and eager to show everyone including me – probably more me, how she was a trouper and could carry on regardless. They explained with equal puppy dog excitement (that Duchess seemed impervious to) that their aim was to get slowly go up to a 7 while taking notes at each stage.

“It’s just like spandex hold it all up, tuck it all in and give shape underwear” she followed her shape from boobs to hip. Who could blame her with these dishy intellectual types all around you. Sadly for Sam however, her timing was off, they were too engrossed in the app on my phone. All of a sudden she squealed, and went cross eyed. I tried to stop myself from a giggle, but the corners of my mouth curled into a smirk and the giggle bubbled out.

‘Perhaps the inside thigh should be modified?’ I suggested

“What number have you got that on” Dr Burns asked suspiciously. I looked down as I was not too sure myself, they all looked at me clipboards in had for the answer.

‘Two!’ I replied blankly.

‘Two? Are you sure?’ Sam’s eyes were sort of watering. Simon and lead researcher unceremoniously stuck his hand up the sleeve of the suit.

“Yep, it’s a two; crank it up two more, than we will leave it for a while, see how she copes.”

I did as I was told, but instead of the pleasure of showing someone how it feels, I felt and pang of uncertainty as I saw the familiar pain flash over Sam’s face.

“No that’s OK turn it up to the” Another ripple of muscle contraction took the breath away and she held out her hand to steady herself against Simon.

“Just go for a walk hold onto me so your body can adjust to the sensations.” Simon suggested.

We all held on to the childish giggles and comments as Sam walked out of the flat and onto the street like a person constantly hit by a lightning bolt.

They all decided to make a cup of tea while they were out walking and adjusting. We sat drinking and nibbling while talking about the technology and what it would do for the medical staff with their teaching, about other chronic conditions. How it all brings a new dimension to care. They all thought that my idea of being able to process the information gathered by the sweat on how the lactic acid and the heart behaved was - a genius way of gathering and furthering research.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sam walk like a cat on hot bricks, the sharp intakes of breath, closing of the eyes and pausing to gain the will to move again.

“Perhaps we should get her out of the suit and make sure it is working properly” I suggested. Perplexed they looked over to me, then out of the window where Sam was teetering in high heels, unsteady and shaking her limbs. Duchess was following looking confused at her mistress, sitting down and looking around and I felt certain I could see the cat’s eyes roll.

Two days later they had the data from Sam’s trial in the suit and they had tweaked it, so that lower settings were incorporated with differing incremental settings for many other conditions and individual tolerance to pain.

Sam had not been round to see me in those two days since she ore the suit, and was frosty towards me as she went to work in the mornings. Today was not a good day for me the PEM had kicked in big time. Tom had been my constant companion. He had said that they had caused the relapse in my condition, the least they could do was support me back until I was better.

They asked Sam to try on the suit again. I could see the horror on her face, but she became my hero when she silently took hold of the suit again. But it was her words that grabbed me the most, when she looked at me in the eyes with determination and grit.

‘I’ll be happy to’ and as she passed me she touched my shoulder and privately stated ‘I have the freedom of taking off the suit, others don’t.They don't have the freedom to work’ She squeezed me just a little and there just right at that second I lost the ability to fly on a dream cloud, as a reality sunk in, but I gained another hero and a true friend!

The Joy of Her

A while ago a very dear friend wanted some help writing down a story that contained her thoughts. She had cared for her mum through her illnes and as often happens when someone you love and depend on leaves you - so many emotions curl you up into a tight ball of sorrow, called grief.

Like the roses here (taken from Pearl's garden) as the tight buds opened up the beauty wrapped within the flowers uncurled, you could see the love blosom.

The Joy of Her

I see the joy of my mum in roses, her gentle ways, the way she wrapped us up in petals of love but I don’t think she knew how to nurture us as she nurtured her garden. I think that was our gift to her.
 
She was brought up in a time when no encouragement was deemed necessary I suppose, but it would have been nice to have heard the words ‘you did good!’ I sort of took it personally until I decided to plant the rose bush in celebration of her joy. I got to thinking; which is probably my problem of over analysing life, it’s the times we live in I think. We have to be accountable for each action we give a child these days, not the same for mum. She just wanted a family, it was enough and I guess we didn’t have to achieve to make her happy and being proud just wasn’t her thing, giving love was more my mum’s style.

As I dig the hole to bury the strong roots of the rose bush I have chosen and as I look at them I see my foundation from which my family has grown. Each branch strong and sturdy with shoots of beauty ready to flourish if I tend to them. It was then I understood why she loved gardening and arranging flowers so much. Lovingly you put everything you have into it, and at a distance – you admire. With us it was the same she watered and fed us, our every needs were met, and not until now – as my hands feel the earth have I given it a thought. She nurtured her grandchildren because she could not love them as she had us. She had to stand back and enjoy her love blooming through us to our kids. God I hope I can learn that lesson – how to back off and let my boys grow, enabling them to find their own roots so they too can bloom.

She had an acceptance in life that many of us take a lifetime to try to achieve, scholars spend decades trying to reach the Zen like state she found so easy. I’m not sure how deep the resentment of that quality goes actually. She had a profound inability to tell us off as children, I saw it as a weakness that always ended in laughter. Through her illness – that took her away from us bit by bit, she refused to try to understand it. That simplistic acceptance made me so angry at times. I now see it as a strength I envy.

Cooking, being with her family, holidays to Portugal, playing cards was her enjoyment but it was the looks and words she gave her grandchildren that was her joy. It’s what I miss the most and as I stand back and look on at all the rose bushes that glisten in the summers rain, for the first time I can see my glory. So why am I so angry? I have so often thought about this while in my garden tending my flowers and I think it was because I never told her or allowed myself to see it…. that I have finally seen and understood what she saw so clearly…. my beauty.

To Pearl and her family

X

I hope you  agree she did 'do good' and I'm very proud of her. Lots of love

Parallel Universe 5

Fifteen years of responsibility came tumbling out, of not sharing the burden or the joy. In the time it took me to fall asleep I know I spoke of loss but they all merged and mingled. In the middle of his bed I lay alone as I had over the years. I took no heed over his pleads to console until exhausted I quietly slept.

Voices and the pain woke me and my eyes took a while to focus. I flinched every time I remembered some of what I had said last night. My innermost thoughts and concerns rang in my ears and the contortions it caused on Ian’s face. I had never vented those emotions to anyone before.

I had to decide quickly what I wanted to happen, what direction I wanted my life to take and how to let go so I could guide Sophie so that she wouldn’t get hurt. I tried to move but the pain was intense and I had no idea where the painkillers were.

I assumed that only having one leg incapacitated would mean the other three limbs would oblige and help me out but silken sheets were slippery suckers and before I knew it I was sliding onto the floor. Boobs slipping their anchorage just as the door opened and Rafe and Ian came in. My bottom half was cocooned within the bed covers and as I grabbed anything to cover my dignity I fell flat on my face.

They ran to my aid, rearranged and straightened me out.

‘I was looking for my painkillers, my leg woke up hurting.’ They both smiled down at me. Ian went to find them leaving Rafe to sit me down. The room was elegantly beautiful and I sat taking it in as Rafe fussed around raising my leg.

‘You ok, you look…’

‘Like shit? I tried to give myself cheep Botox on the floor but missed and enlarged my nose instead.’ His concern left as his humour took hold of his face.

‘I have to leave soon, do you need anything? I can call back’

‘I’m sure I do but I can’t think of anything.’

‘Well call me if you do.’

‘Would but I don’t have your number.’

He gave me a business card and we both felt uncomfortable, unsure. In came Ian and put a tray on a writing table.

‘Have you boys kissed and made up?’

They looked over to me and smiled. I took the tablets that were being offered. They started talking business and it transpired that Rafe was Ian’s agent. Ian held off two shoots that he was due to do this coming week rearranging and rescheduling. Squeezing my shoulders and kissing the top of my head Rafe left. Now life was complicated and shit or was it shitly complicated? No such word as shitly but in my world there should be!

Coffee with warm milk poured by the type of man I find irresistible in attitude and looks, first thing on a Saturday morning without the kids, oh how I had dreamed of that! Always be careful what you dream for is a warning I should heed. All my friends that were divorced, divorced their feelings towards their ex’s. I seem to indulging in my every fantasy. He sat there studying me as I sat indulging my daydreams, well lets face it, that was as far as it was going to go, I might as well enjoy it.

‘I know you are going to be sensitive to any suggestion I make and suspicious but I think the kids should live here over Christmas. They are off from school; you need a few days of rest and a bit of a recoup.’ His face twitched when he knew a sensitive subject was coming and as far as reading me he was doing rather well but like all men he didn’t see the bigger picture. I tried to keep emotion or thought out of my face.

‘What do you think?’

‘You just want the kids?’

‘No I just assumed you came as a whole package.’ A nice touch I though using Sophie’s words against me so softly and gently.

‘What about after Christmas?’ He was confused I enlightened him to my thinking. ‘After they have lived in this space and had the life you are willing to give them for a week, what then? How will it be for them when they have to return home?’ I knew there was no room for all of us back at mine but I was concerned how this would impact on the children, mostly Henry.

‘Henry is so very young to understand that his father dies and Sophie gets a new one who lives in a house like this. When they have got to know you, what then? I could never offer them a life like this and your mother will not be able to stop herself from reminding me of that!’ He could have defended everything a thousand different ways but he chose to agree with me. But it was his next statement that had me in turmoil.

‘I want to help out, I don’t want to make their lives or yours harder than it needs to be or has been. I’ll do what ever you think is best I just want to be part of your lives.’

Parallel Universe Part 4

As promised here is the next part. 

I sat on the edge of the bed as my ex-husband ranted and raved to his friend about keeping his hands off his wife. I couldn’t help the bubbles of giggles that erupted the absurdity of the man was amusing in a strangely perverse way. He had never shown that amount of feeling to me when we had been together. The idea that a complete stranger would find me attractive was a little silly too, did he not see that?

Anyhow if Ian had kept his lustful needs under control just a little he wouldn’t be in this predicament. This last point I think he must have forgotten. The fact that he felt he could still treat me as a position of sorts narked my sensibility so that my sensible side just evaporated. I felt my left eyebrow rise and my eyes widen. In the middle of his illogical argument he looked at me, I had the slightest of smiles that held his attention. Rafe followed his gaze squeezed me and got up to leave.

‘You don’t deserve her’ he looked over to his friend and then back at me ‘Will see you in the morning. Give him what he deserves is my best advice. There is a good man deep inside sulking’ as he walked past Ian he laid his hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s a good job I know you but she is a free woman so don’t screw around or you will lose!’

As he left the threat lingered on. Confused a little and loosing the will to think it through, a stiffening, starchy anger built up that erupted a little within my mind but exploded out of my mouth.

‘I want a drink.’

‘You can’t your on painkillers.’

‘It’s time I was taking some more so they are out of my system so it don’t count! I want a drink, wine would be good, whisky if I have to and then you can sit down and tell me what the fuck you think you are playing at.’

I never knew I could glare but it worked its magic and off he trotted with his good looks shining through. Bugger him!

I heard his footsteps as he came in with the wine in a cooler and as I lay on the bed he sat on the pillowed chair his feet on the sumptuous matching stool. I had braced myself and had thought of what I wanted to say. It was witty and classic, organised and grown up but that was not what came out of my mouth Oh no! What came out was truthful and childish.

‘Let me just get this off my chest before you explain yourself. You have no claim over me or my daughter. For one tiny sperm and one second of pleasure does not give you the right to take the last fifteen, nearly sixteen years away. And for your information I like sex! And I will have sex with whom I like. If you can fuck my friend when we were married I can fuck your friend when we have been divorced for the last sixteen years. Got it!’

There lingered for a time thoughts of retrospect on his lips but he swallowed them and took a big gulp of whiskey. I sipped the lush refreshing wine, composed myself and carried on.

‘Why have you moved here and did you track me down?’ With his eyes averted to his whiskey he nodded.

‘Why?’

He searched for words, ideas and reasons but he just shrugged his shoulders.

‘Just knew I had too.’

‘That is so typical and so selfish.’ I saw the pain and wondered why it was there. ‘I’ve had enough of today; I can’t be bothered with it quite frankly.’ He laughed a small ripple of a laugh that vibrated through the air and touched me ever so slightly.

‘Why the laugh?’

‘Because when you’ve had enough you just close down, because you can never stay angry for long. You are never bitter.’

‘You have no idea.’

I took another sip that was bigger than the last one and savoured its flavours, closed my eyes and took in a breath to heighten the taste. Tears for no apparent reason started to fall he made a move to come over to me and I held up my hand and stopped him. I didn’t want his comfort. Then it all came tumbling out.

Would you like to read the next part the more likes the faster I write :-)

Falling off the Tandem part two

It was only five thirty when I got to my room and I had an hour to wait before diner menu was available.

I had looked forward to reading and enjoying my pimms all week but found I couldn’t settle; due to being wound up by the spiteful text. I decided to go for a walk to unwind the tightly coiled spring within. It didn’t take long the two glasses of Pimms had worked their magic. I walked back to the veranda the July heat had subsided and the flowers sent floated on the calm and still air. It truly was a glorious setting and perfect for a wedding.

The stillness was broken by a rich and good humoured male’s voice talking on a mobile phone. As I walked up to the steps, I caught the gist of the conversation. They (whoever was on the other end of the phone and Mr. Smooth voice) were the ones who had cancelled the honeymoon suite. They had organised a helicopter to take the soon to be newly weds to a seaside location of the bride’s childhood, where the couple would not be disturbed by their boisstres friends and family; who would also be staying at the hotel. I smiled as I walked past, how sweet and thoughtful and was glad that the wedding hadn’t been called off as I had thought.

I heard his hurried footsteps and half of me wanted to turn around and see if the face matched his luscious voice the other half wanted to grab and kiss him fully on the mouth with every ounce of passion I felt. I sighed I had not had sex for so long it was starting to effect me and daydreams of romance an ever persistent emotion to sit on. Must get back to the safety of the room, I was obviously in no fit state to be out in public. I actually giggled out loud at this thought.

As I made my way to the exquisite French doors still wondering what he looked like and planning to sit on the table just inside, so I could take a sneaky peek at this voice that melted me like a warmed marshmallow. But before I could reach the top tier of the extensive veranda, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Oh and he was as sexy as his voice. His appeal dripped from his smiling eyes and down his cheeks to his smile that I immediately swooned for.

‘Sorry to bother you’ He almost pleaded with his voice and I just about stopped myself from saying ‘the pleasure is mine’ I blushed as he kept his hand on my shoulder the contact with another adult human being was intense to the point of pain. ‘Are you going into dinner now?’

‘Yes’ I replied trying to breath and not fling my arms around him and snog with gusto, now there’s a word from the past snog. The long lost sense of teenage faire l’amour sprang from that word and a primal instinct that was hard to ignore came with it. The little devil inside me wanted to hide the mother side of my complex being in a cupboard and release the animal within. But regrettably the mother side won, again! And the frustrated animal was captured and behind safe bars mores the pity!

‘Would you mind if I tagged along?’

‘Sure’ I tried to casually shrug. This was not good, how on earth was I going to keep my hands off him, let alone think straight? Now I felt a little uneasy about being on my own for diner and what on earth would he think if he knew I was in the Honeymoon suite, I wondered.

As we went down past the reception he asked me if I was on the bride’s side or the grooms.

‘Neither’ I answered tensing, lord I thought how ridiculous and silly my ideas are if he finds out I’m on my own he is going to think I’m a right loner; which of course I am, a mother is always a loner when divorced.

‘Oh’ His awkwardness made him pause for a while and then he carried on. ‘So sorry I thought you were one of the guests for the pre wedding dinner. Can I get you a drink?’

Good lord a drink, not a great idea really, unpredictable urges that felt as if they were going to erupt at any second needed strong support not more of a relaxed attitude. I reasoned; I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to. If we parted now he would be embarrassed as he would be unable to keep his invite to diner and not to mention how I would feel about being dressed up and on my own. Having a drink would get us both out of a difficult social situation. It would also give me time to plan a timely retreat. I could have a soft drink but when he asked if I wanted to share a bottle of wine I smiled and said that would be lovely.

‘So are you waiting for someone?’ He looked at me obviously taking in my dress. I wished I could lie but some of us just can’t.

‘No’ I confessed with guilt. His confused and puzzled expression made me want to play with his bemused face that he fought gallantly to control. My heart took pity on him and the truth tippled out, thanks to the Pimms.

‘This is a new beginning, silly really and a story that probably would take up most of the evening in the telling and would bore me and send you to sleep, so I’ll spare us.’ He was about to say something but once started I had to carry on. ‘I was going to have dinner and then go and read a book.’

‘That dress would be wasted on a book’

I blushed. ‘That’s very kind’

‘Nonsense, it’s a simple fact.’ He took a wine buffs approach to the just poured wine which had appeared like a magic trick. Deep in thought we waited the wine waiter and I for his verdict. He looked right into my eyes, deep into them and smiled. I felt that I could almost read his thoughts; he had picked the wine for me. He nodded at the waiter. As the waiter left he turned his thoughts to me by which time I had rapidly drank half the glass; the tension was getting to me and he was right the wine was divine. He lent over to refill my class but I held my hand over the top.

‘I try very hard to sip wine but when it’s cool and as refreshing as this, I tend to drink faster than perhaps is wise.’ He smiled and gave a little rumble in the back of his throat. It made me breathe deeply with contentment. He looked at me pleasantly surprised by my reaction.

            ‘I would like to ask a favour and I honestly wont be offended if you decline’ He attentively began. ‘I know we’ve just met and that was a little unorthodox on my part and this is going to seem really strange. But would you help me….you see I was supposed to come with someone for the family pre wedding diner and to my sisters wedding and our over bearing mother would spoil her evening and day, if all she could go on about was the fact I’m single again. There would be the Spanish inquisition of why and at the top table there would be no let up, it would all be unbearable.’

His pleading eyes drove away my inhabitations and all defences.

‘I would love to be your knight in shinning armour’
As I took another sip and an inward panic started to built up. It’s ok putting yourself forward heroically, I thought but will you be any good at riding the white charger and how are your lance tactics? I pondered. I took another sip; well actually a gulp, perhaps I think too much and even worry more. Live a dream, just for a short while, become something you will never have a chance of becoming again. Go on have a little fun, without responsibility. Mothers should have a duel personality to keep them sane; now who had said that? If nobody had they should’ve. I looked across at the stranger and into his eyes that were deep and mellow and full of playful peril. Irresistible! Somethings in life you just have to have a go at. I mounted that white charger, I feared the wrong way round, as he led me to my quest.