51. Love at first sight (3/4)

The following day I was faced with a serious interrogation session.

'Oh! You're here! Still alive and in one piece!'

'Go on! Tell us! What is he like? Did you run away in fear?'

'All good. Just like you said: greasy hair, squeaky voice, creepy as hell ... oh ... and really old.'

'You're obviously kidding us. You look kind of happy ... and you're smiling! You would be totally freaked out if you'd met a psychopath.'

'Well, you know. I am a professional teacher. I love all my students, even the creepy ones.'

'Come on! Spit it out. Is he good-looking? I bet he's!'

I left them to stew a little. It would make up for my almost not ringing that bell that previous evening.

I always think you have to grab the bull by the horns so I did ring it. The sound of the voice that answered and gave me the flat number was not very clear through the intercom but it did not sound squeaky to me. In fact it sounded deep and smooth and sexy. The portrait drawn by my flatmates was starting to fade a little and I felt braver. I went up to the second floor and waited for the door of the apartment to open.

...

A big (inward) sigh of relief as the man who opened the door to let me in had no greasy hair, nor did he look like a weirdo. On the contrary the man who stood in front of me was dressed in jeans and button-down checked shirt. He was tall, rather good-looking I thought, although I did wonder afterwards: was it in comparison to the vivid image I'd had in my mind all along? I remember thinking I would have to take a second look to make sure. He offered me a cup of (disgusting tea) and I attempted a lesson. In fact we sat down and he told me (in French? I can't remember) about his travels around Africa.

By the time I went back round I'd had a haircut (scheduled weeks before) and went from long hair to very short. I wondered would he notice? Would he even recognise me?

'Hi! How are you?' And he quickly added 'Smart haircut.'

He had noticed! I did proceed and went through some basic 'conversations in everyday situations' or something just as boring. When the hour was over we started chatting about life and about how we both had had enough of Scotland. A third lesson was programmed. This pleased my employer at Languages For All: 'I told you it would be fine.' She sounded pleased with herself. In those days we did not have to write reports and fill in progress charts which was just as well as after a rushed third lesson we ended up in the corner pub. 

When I saw my flatmates a while later I told them I had a date. I had been invited to one of the posh wine bars of the East End with my 'mature student'.

'NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

'The creepy, spooky psychopath?'

'No way!'

As usual they were screaming and laughing and to shut them up I said:

'He's picking me up in about ... 45 minutes. So am going to get ready.'

The three of them stared in disbelief. They of course did not believe I'd be going out with a greasy spooky old guy. 

They looked at each other and were left speechless for a - very - short while as they watched me leave the kitchen. When the bell rang my friends made for the door. I waved them off and opened to greet my date.

'Hi! Hello! Just come in please, I'll grab my bag and coat.' I thought they had to have a peek or they'll be bugging me endlessly. 

'No problem.'

A tall man made his way into our hall while I grabbed my stuff. At the end of the corridor, three heads were peering around the kitchen door trying to get a look.

I shut the door behind me and turned round briefly to wave good bye. The three of them were sticking their thumbs up, grinning and waving. I tried not to laugh as I close the door and left with my date/student.

I was going to have to face an other interrogation session the following day but soon they would know this man, called Alan, as he quickly became a regular visitor to our West End flat ...