50. Love at first sight (2/4)

I had called the English man and we had agreed on a time. I had tried to hide my lack of enthusiasm. 

I was ready to go and looked at my three flatmates. They were in stitches.

'Honestly, you're not going to do that!' 

'Do what?'

'That! Go there! A wee French lass on your own, in the evening, in winter, in the dark, in Scotland! To see a weird guy, in his flat, a man who's into dead bodies!'

The three of them thought that was hilarious. 

'Look. It's just a job! A weird job, ok. But just a job.'

'My goodness! You're crazy! But we knew that anyway.' 

'I mean, my guess is, you're going to ring the bell and the door's going to open and you are going to scream!'

More laughter.

'And drop dead. From shock.'

'Hey! You'll be in good hands.' 

More loud laughter.

'We'd better start looking for a new flatmate!'

They thought it was so funny. I would have too.

'I bet he's short and fat.'

'Black, greasy hair with a parting.' 

'And he has got a squeaky voice.'

'Seriously, he's got to be some kind of pervert, or dangerous psychopath ...'

They all put on a worried look. Only to start laughing again.

'Right! I'm off. You girls call the police and come and rescue me if I'm not back by 9PM sharp. Ok?'

They agreed. But ... could I trust them? I was seriously wondering. Thank goodness it was tea there were drinking.

So here I was on my way to meet this guy. I was playing it cool but to be honest I did feel a little worried. My note pad and my pens were my only weapons. I had to be brave.

A two-minute walk from the underground, the block of flats was just off the city centre, in the newly refurbished East End. This area was safe, trendy, affluent. There were lots of pubs and plenty of posh wine bars, lots of restaurants. If the guy was a total freak at least he seemed to have money. I decided it couldn't be that bad and pressed the bell long and hard, fully determined.