Finally, we were on our blind date, neither of us what the other expected

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jan/31/blind-date-neither-what-other-expected

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So, there I was, standing next to a man who wasn’t what I was expecting, a man who was standing next to a woman he hadn’t expected, on a blind date with an itinerary fixed for the next nine hours or so.

There wasn’t any easy ducking out: the detail of the day had been gone over and over, and I had theatre tickets in my wallet. We began with lunch, where, once we had ordered the food, conversation immediately flagged. Peter, staring off towards the windows, looked like a boy who had been kicked hard in the shin. I began to play the straight man, feeding him lines from emails that I knew would prompt long anecdotes. He had worked for a time in the US, and I asked eager questions about places he had been, places where he had felt at home and not felt at home. I was smiling so much that my cheek muscles hurt. Once he felt that I admired him and that he could make me laugh, he began to like me better.

After lunch, we had a walk around the city together. We had a perfectly nice, if awkward day, wandering and visiting a museum, and stopping off at coffee shops. Over the third coffee, I think he began to sense that I was disappointed and raised his game. Perhaps it had occurred to him that he would never have to see me again, and he was right: despite its preposterous origins it was, after all, just a date.

He became almost giddy when we came out of the cafe and wanted to buy me a dress (an offer politely declined). We looked inside churches, like tourists, and he began to walk with his arm hooked around my shoulder. He asked me repeatedly if I was happy, and said repeatedly that he was. It was all becoming quite baffling.

At about five o’clock, he said he needed a shower and would return to his hotel. He asked if I wanted to come. I said sure, why not and went with him – a man I didn’t really know, on a first date, into his hotel room because I felt safe, as most murder victims probably do.

His room was a fairly lavish affair, with a sofa at the end of the bed, (perhaps he had picked it in anticipation of a seduction), where I sat reading yesterday’s paper while he showered and changed out of sight. He had already been there one night and there was a Jack Reacher novel on the table. I was surprised because that hadn’t appeared in any of the Top 10 lists we had exchanged. His top 10 books had all been very serious ones. The minute he reappeared, he said, “Right, let’s be off.” And we trooped out.

I was already dreading the evening, but in the end it was survivable. He downed three gin and tonics before we went to the show and talked about his work, and in the theatre he startled me by reaching for my hand in the darkness. Afterwards, we talked about Shakespeare we had seen and favourite box sets, and it was fine, though I had to pedal hard to keep the conversation going. Out on the street, he hugged me one-arm style and kissed my hair and said he was tired, and went off to bed.

His train wasn’t until lunchtime and we were supposed to be spending the morning together. He texted to say that he had to work, unfortunately, so there would only be time for a quick coffee. I met him at a station cafe. He stood as I approached, but there was no kiss. He asked how I was and said it had all been lovely and we must do it again soon, mustn’t we? I walked with him to the platform, where he said “Bye, love” as he got into his carriage, kissing my cheek and not looking back.

I went home feeling like a dam that would burst its banks and had a good cry because, mysteriously, the wonderful thing had been all wrong. I told myself there had been too much for the day to live up to. I’d already had a text from him that said “Well THAT was fun” with a smiley attached. The useful thing about emoticons is that they preclude the need for kisses.

Since then I’ve had one email from him. It said that he had been thinking a lot about how difficult it would be to sustain a distance relationship and how booked up most of his weekends were for the next two months, what with one thing and another.