Finally

Chapter 18 - Perfectly Safe

The wind is harsh on the bridge and is blowing my hair in my face so I can barely see.  I hope he can see the flower because I can't see a thing.

It's normally a wonderful place with a great view of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament on one side and the London Eye on the other.  Today I can hardly see anything apart from strands of my hair and I'm sure the wind has undone all my hard work styling it, I probably look like a scarecrow.

I gather my hair in a makeshift ponytail with my hands just in time to see Dan standing beside me smiling.  He's cute, he has sandy hair and a small spattering of freckles that make him look younger than he is.  He has quite the baby face and his floppy hair adds to his adorableness.  He's a head taller than me too, which is good, but he's a little on the skinny side for my taste.  I'm a curvy girl and I prefer a man who makes me feel small and girly.

He hugs me and it's warm and comforting, but there's no instant spark of attraction.  Perhaps that will come later once I get to know him.

"You look beautiful," he tells me sweetly.

"Thanks," I reply shyly, I'm still awful at taking compliments.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"Yes, where are we going?"

"Not far, but it's a surprise," he grins.

He leads me to a quiet, cobbled street that seems out of place in the middle of a big city and in through an unmarked door.  He starts down the steps into a basement and I suddenly begin to panic, nervous about this place.  He doesn't look like a murderer, but looks could be deceiving.  I hope I'm going to make it out of this alive.

"Don't worry, you're perfectly safe," he reassures seeing the look on my face.

We enter the room at the bottom of the stairs and it's an underground distillery.  There are old wooden tables everywhere with metal stools dotted around them randomly.  It's very old and I feel like I've stepped back in time somehow.

"Welcome!" booms a man dressed in an old fashioned outfit, making me jump.

Dan grips my hand and strokes it reassuringly. He really is sweet.

"This gin distillery was built in 1829 and is the oldest gin distillery in the city," he informs us. "Take a seat and I will walk you through our unique brewing process, which remains almost the same today and makes us one of the most famous gin makers in the world."

We sit on a pair of the metal stools and listen as he talks us through the process painting a vivid picture of the work involved.  I'm just waiting for the tasting part.

Finally, he brings some bottles and pours a couple of measures into small, delicate glasses.  I've never drunk gin neat, but this is surprisingly smooth and not at all harsh like the gin usually served in bars.  My favourite is the elderflower gin and I buy a bottle from the gift shop at the end.

We leave feeling warmer and more relaxed and blink as the harsh daylight burns our eyes, after being in the dark basement for so long, it's a shock to the system.

"Would you be interested in joining me for dinner?" Dan asks me.  

Only he would word it like that.  He's clearly a gentleman and far too much of a good boy for me, he's the kind of man my mother would love me to bring home, but I'm sure I'd destroy him in the bedroom then break his heart.  He deserves a sweet, wholesome girl, not a hot mess like me.

"Sure, but I'm not that hungry," I confess, then seeing his disappointment explain, "I had a big lunch out with my friend Alice."

Seeing that it wasn't a brush off he smiles again and suggests we find a bar that also serves food.  

We have a pleasant evening, he's actually great company, he's intelligent with a fantastic sense of humour.  At the end of the evening he walks me to the station and he asks to see me again.  I tell him I'd like that and honestly I would, I can't see us having filthy, furniture breaking s*x, but I do see us having a genuine friendship that would last a lot longer.  

We swap numbers and he makes me promise to message that I arrived home safely, I agree with only a hint of eye rolling and I manage to resist the urge to compare him to my mother. 

Like a good girl, I do as I'm told and message him when I enter my apartment.  I thank him for a nice afternoon and tell him I hope we can do it again some time.  I mean it, but I mentally cross him off my list of potential f**k buddies.  Out of my three dates, I have Jean.  One out of three isn't terrible I suppose and I do have my date with Sam tomorrow night.  Two would be enough for me to juggle, it's one plus a back up.  If Sam doesn't work out then I'll just have to get back on the dating site and actually have a look myself rather than waiting for potential candidates to message me.  I'm still thinking about this as I fall into a deep sleep.

Sunday morning is fairly uneventful, I sleep in until 11am and then try to eat something with little success.  I have my date with Sam today, but not until the evening.  I also have my new job starting on Monday so I distract myself by choosing my first day at work outfit, ironing it and leave it hanging on the door so it doesn't get creased again in the cupboard.

I start to get dressed with anticipation, trying to remember exactly what he looked like.  I'm lost in my thoughts when my phone buzzes and it's a message from Sam checking we're still on for tonight.  I'm still keen so game on!  

If only I'd known how the night would turn out.