One Night and One Morning - Part 1

It’s late and we’re on our third bottle of wine. In fairness the wine has been shared with mutual friends. She is a friend of a friend of G, who has invited me to her birthday drinks. We have met a few times over the last couple of years and are two people who think we know each other reasonably well but who are shortly to realise otherwise. We haven’t seen each other in 6 months and so the conversation initially takes the form of catch up – How was Christmas? Did you go away on holiday last year? Have you had your hair cut? “Yes, 4 months ago” to the last one. As we talk the hairdresser type chit chat, the conversation an unexpected turn upon the new discovery of mutually shared experiences. She tops up our glasses and we take this new road of discovery, empathising and comparing the places we’ve been, the restaurants we have eaten in, the relationships we’ve had. “I’ve met you a few times but I can’t believe we haven’t talked about this before” she says. Suddenly we’re aware that we’re consumed in each other’s conversation to the point where we have separated off from the rest of the group.

We’re brought back in by G and some of the others who announce that they are leaving to go to a club somewhere deep in South London and we’re welcome to join them if we would like. We politely decline as G looks at me with her eyes narrowed. She gives me a hug and kisses the girl on both cheeks, agreeing to meet for lunch in the week. And then we are alone as she empties the rest of the bottle into our glasses. We then become further absorbed in deep conversation, the wine ensuring that some revelations and reactions are seemingly on a repeat loop.

We feel surrounded as the clientele jostles for position in a scrum against the bar. The barmaid doesn’t know who to serve first as money is waved in front of her face and half the crowd is fighting for her attention. In the middle of this we are pushed more closely together than we have been all evening. The noise level of the place gets to such a point that we are forced to speak closely into one another’s ear to make sure we are heard. I feel the warmth of her cheek against my own as I take in the smell of her hair and her perfume and I realise that I’m thinking about this girl in ways that I never expected to. And then suddenly we are kissing.

I don’t know who has kissed who first, but we are consumed and oblivious to those around us. She breaks the kiss “You won’t tell G about this will you?” There is something about the question that makes it feel more like a statement. “No, course not.” I say and she smiles and takes my hand and we leave to find a cab. “My place or yours?” she asks. I think of the unwashed dishes from last night’s dinner, the washing on a line in my lounge and the pile of clothes hanging on the end of my bed.

“Yours”