The one you've been waiting for!

Reader, I met him!

I started getting a bit twitchy around lunchtime, as I hadn't heard from him all morning, so I dropped him a text:

'Hi, I'm assuming we're still on for tonight: you haven't been carried off by a freak tornado, or suddenly gone back to your wife, [wouldn't be the first time...] or anything?!'

I eventually hear back from him at 4.15! Talk about nervous. He has limited cell coverage where he works at Lancashire Wildlife Trust. I make myself presentable and head off.

I'm halfway down the A483 to Chester when he calls me. I answer (on speaker, of course!), but all I hear is fuzz. I briefly suspect heavy breathing, coz I really do hardly know this guy, and realise that I neglected to invoke The Plan, but really, get a grip Bride, who the hell does that these days? It's a pocket dial! I hang up. I've just pulled on to the A55 when a message comes through from him. Of course, I'm still driving, in the dark, in heavy rush hour traffic, but I'm still a little nervous so I pull off at the next lay-by and check the message. I fully expect it to say 'Sorry, I'm not coming, this is never going to work, so it's not worth starting. Good bye'. Yes, I am that paranoid!

No, of course it doesn't say that!

Back in the traffic stream I crawl down the motorway to Green Lane station in Birkenhead, watching the ETA on the satnav get later and later...I hate being late for anything, never mind to meet a man who has come all the way down from Leyland to Liverpool just to have dinner with me. I pay the right royal sum of £3.40 for a return ticket across the water. So much more civilised than paying tunnel fees and astronomic parking charges in Liverpool! Quicker too - I arrive at Lime Street at 6.32, to find Mr John waiting for me at the top of the escalator.

3.5 very swift conversation-filled hours later, after Lebanese dinner at Bakchich on Bold Street, a drink at a Wetherspoons  pub called The Lime Kiln (he sent me pics a few days ago of an historic lime kiln that he's looking to have preserved. As spooky-type people, we share a delight in synchronicity), another drink in the Crown next to Lime Street Station, a pub I have not been in for 30 years, but the last time I was there was to see Hawkwind. More synchronicity. Beautiful pub, terrible loos. He misses his second-to-last train, we sit for a few minutes to consult diaries (he keeps a paper diary, and has beautiful handwriting!) and make another date to look at art and go to the theatre, but not until early next month as Imbolg is in the way and he has plans. I head off back under the Mersey and home, feeling relaxed and confident that this could go somewhere. The Moon is just starting to wax: an auspicious time to start a new chapter. It's about time I reconnected with the Times, Tides and Seasons.

Meanwhile....a couple of new 'likes' have popped up on Tinder. I'm not going to desperately pursue them, but in the interests of keeping my readers entertained I will gently see which direction they go in!

Peace.