Free Ghost by Michael Cameron Page B

yes, he knew that she was different and he knew she was married, but even in his wildest dreams he could not imagine what the next few days would bring
    A day or so later Page had travelled from Belfast back to the London office. As usual he and his boss faced a day of back-to-back meetings beginning after 8 am and likely not to end until 10 pm, so it would not be a Soho night, but hopefully he would get to the pub at least. Mid-morning he grabbed a coffee and sat down to check his e-mails when he spotted one from Lucinda and ignoring all the other urgent messages, he clicked it open immediately. “Hi Robert, just thought I would let you know that I’m in London next week with my boss for a conference. Maybe if I can escape and you are not too busy you might buy a girl a drink?”
    “Fuck me” said Page, more than once in quick succession. He read the e-mail again and when he got to the last word he said “Fuck me!” One thing that Page could not do, no matter how hard he tried, was to play it cool. He replied instantly,“That sounds interesting, look forward to it.”
    He attached his mobile number for good measure and waited for the response. A few hours later, in between meetings he checked again, still nothing. The other thing he couldn’t do was patience and so a little later he sent another email. “Meant to ask, what day will you be coming over?” It seemed legitimate enough to ask.
    “ Don’t be so bloody desperate” said the voice,
    “And you can shut the fuck up!”
    #
    When he arrived in the office the next day, her reply was waiting. She would be there the following Tuesday and she would text him to make the necessary arrangements. How legalistic he thought, as he smiled and read it again for the fourth time.
    When Tuesday came Page was quite nervous, bordering on anxious. He was wondering where to take her in order to make the best impression, assuming that they would enjoy a drink together and possibly dinner. This was a woman about whom he knew nothing. He hadn’t had so much as a two line conversation with her and had no idea what her expectations where when it came to wining and dining. However, on a positive note, it was she who made the first move so there must be something about him which appealed and maybe that would be enough for now. Throughout the day she texted two updates, nothing flirtatious, sadly, just “On board now” and “I’ll text when I get to my hotel.”
    Unusually for him, Page managed to restrain himself and played it straight in his replies, for which he commended himself.
    He was just out of the shower and poured himself a good splash of twelve year old Glenfiddich when the phone beeped, “Sorry, but my boss has asked me to join him for dinner. I’ll get away as soon as I can.”
    For fuck sakes! He thought and slumped down onto his sofa.
    “No problem”he lied.  After brooding for a while he decided to dress and headed downstairs to the hotel bar next to his apartment block. It was better than sitting at home waiting alone. After a few hours and with not a beep from his phone, he called it a night and headed back home. He assumed she had made other plans and although annoyed, he thought a few more whiskies would help him get over it, maybe there would be another time.
    Big Ben chimed midnight close by and while he sat cradling his glass his phone finally beeped, “So so sorry, I just couldn’t get away, is it too late or can I still see you?”
    “Oh in the name of all that is fucking wonderful!” he said. As he jumped up, spilling half the glass over his pink shirt (pink was his ‘pulling’ colour he often joked). Christ, I’m slightly pissed… I need, coffee, mouth wash and a shirt. He was about to text back when he decided to live dangerously and just ring her instead.
    “So, it’s not too late?” She answered with a smile in her voice.
    “No, not at all, I had given up on you and was thinking of heading to a club…”
    “ Fuck! You are truly