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Jemma’s Version
I love giving surprises! What I like the most about couple life is celebrating special occasions and planning surprise parties. Who doesn’t, anyway?
What about presents?
And chocolates?
And roses?
I know, every day should be special when you’re in love, not only birthdays, anniversaries and Valentine’s day, but I believe in happy endings and Prince Charming, I believe in fairy tales.
And I believe that Alejandro will rip off my lace lingerie set as soon as he sees it.
I met him at a Cuban club in Camden, exactly a month ago. He asked me to dance salsa and we didn’t stop until the club closed. They kicked us out and we went to my place. Well, we knew we’d end up either at my place or his.
Alejandro is from Caracas. He’s tall, he’s got shaggy long black hair and his dark eyes are so intense that I lost myself inside them when he took me to the dance floor with him. His hands are strong and steady and when he puts them around my waist I feel I belong to him. It’s love, I’m sure. It must be if he makes me feel this way.
Today happens to be the theatre’s day off, so I decided to give Alejandro a surprise: I’m heading to his house sporting a sexy lingerie set under my coat; we’ll eat in bed, enjoying the delicacies I bought at Fortnum & Mason – even though I can’t usually afford them, I can spend some of my savings on special occasions – and then we will do something very romantic, like taking a candlelit bath together. Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure he has a bath tub… no worries, though, the shower will do just fine. We’ll also play some sensual background music.
His flat is in Barnet, close to the Tube station. At least I won’t have to walk for long, which is good, because the cold air entering my coat is freezing my buttocks.
There’s a boy going out of what should be the entrance to Alejandro’s block of flats. I ask him, just to confirm it’s not the wrong one. Okay, I have to admit I’ve never been to his place, but we shared a taxi once and it stopped right here to drop him off, before taking me home.
“Excuse me, Alejandro lives here, doesn’t he? Tall, Latin American lad with a strong Hispanic accent…”
He looks at me and hesitates for a second. “I don’t know if his name is Alejandro but there’s a Latin American boy on the fourth floor.”
It’s Alejandro, I’m sure.
I climb the stairs fast, risking a fall from my high heels.
I knock on the door and undo the buttons of my coat quickly while I hear steps approaching. When I see the door knob turn, I proudly show off my lingerie exclaiming: “Happy first month anniversary!”
And then, I put the coat back on, horrified. “You’re not Alejandro!”
No, he definitely isn’t. It’s a man in his sixties, looking at me in astonishment. “I may not be Alejandro, but you’re more than welcome!”
“I’m sorry, doesn’t Alejandro live here?”
The man comes out and nods towards the corridor. “The door over there, sweetheart.”
I realise that there are three more flats on the fourth floor, so I kindly thank the man.
“That’s a lucky lad,” I hear him comment while I head towards the right door.
I knock on the door, feeling pretty self-confident. I do agree, Alejandro is a lucky lad.
He opens the door in his shirtless magnificence, his body is still moist from a shower.
“Jemma?”
I take my coat off and, as it falls to the floor, I ask: “Shall we celebrate?”
He looks at me, doubtful. “I’m sorry?”
Why doesn’t he look happy?
