‘He’s sure.’ I grinned before he could be persuaded to join us.
We had a pub lunch, a ‘getting to know you’ chat over good food, and then he drove me back to the flat. I wasn’t going to let him know where I lived.
‘I’d like to see you again,’ he said. ‘I know there’re miles between us but it’s a forty-minute drive and I could pick you up at the weekend. Perhaps take you somewhere nice?’
‘I’d like that,’ I replied.
‘You’re not worried by the age gap?’
‘How old are you?’
‘I’m forty soon.’
‘I’m twenty-seven.’
‘Really? You don’t look that old.’
‘Well, I am,’ I lied. I was only just twenty, but he would never find out until it was too late.
‘May I kiss you goodbye?’
I laughed, pulling him towards me as my answer. His lips grazed mine, he stared into my eyes and kissed me properly. Then we swapped phone numbers before he left.
‘See you soon,’ he shouted, waving as he drove off. I gave out a contented sigh. Today had been a good one.
The next weekend, he picked me up and, after a pub lunch, we went back to his house. I couldn’t help but be nervous. He was twice my age and we were practically in the middle of nowhere. He could do anything to me and no one would ever know. I giggled to myself. Somehow I realised he’d be a true gent. You can tell that about someone, can’t you? Whether or not you can trust them. I knew I could trust Richard.
After showing me around, we sat at the table drinking tea. I wanted wine but declined when he offered. It was only fair as he’d have to drive me home afterwards. That was going to take him the best part of an hour and a half.
‘Can I ask you something?’ I started.
‘Sure.’
‘How did you manage to buy a place like this? I mean it’s huge! Did you marry and divorce a wealthy woman or are you self-made?’
‘There was no woman involved, although I am divorced. I was married for seven years – no children. And even though I make a living from my art, my father died and left me a farm. I sold it and bought this place with the proceedings.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It was a long time ago now.’
‘How did he die?’
‘He took his own life. He shot himself.’
‘No! That’s so sad. How old was he?’
‘Forty-seven. It was over twenty years ago now.’
‘And you’ve lived here ever since?’
He nodded.
‘I never knew my father. He left before me and my sister started school. He was a loser.’
‘Mine wasn’t all that nice either.’ Richard smiled then. ‘Do you have work in the morning?’
‘I’m on a late shift. Two until ten.’
