Towards You: Ben

Well. I have just had the most wonderful date of the year. I was utterly spoilt, and have been on a high since it ended.

A few months ago I went to a symposium day in Holborn. I had made a few friends over the course of the day, and we all decided to go out to dinner that evening. One of these friends was Ben. At first I didn't pay him much attention, other than being taken aback by his enormous height.

Ben is a scientist who was clearly well known and popular within the group. He struck me as funny, but also a little dangerous, and seemed to like to make a point by ever so slightly teasing his friends, poking fun at them. I found that a slightly strange dynamic and I felt I couldn't get a firm grip on safe territory around him, hopping around hoping I never became the object of his teasing. We chatted a lot, however, over dinner and the more we spoke the more I could feel him becoming interested in me. The spotlight became focussed, and I was pushing myself to speak up and not be found wanting.

After dinner, we all went back to the hall for the final festivities and a few drinks. I was always aware of his presence, like a small stone in your shoe that you can't ignore but has yet to become painful. I remember suddenly realising we were standing together, and without thinking quite clearly putting my arm around him and saying what a lovely time I'd had. He agreed. We parted on good terms, but by and large he was out of my mind.

In the couple of months since then he occasionally popped into my mind but it wasn't until last week when an email landed in my inbox. He invited me up to London for dinner and I accepted gladly. Again, he's quite a bit older than me (ten years maybe?) but I do like that. He's already asked me to spend the night with him in Cambridge where he lives, but I declined for the time being. I know what will happen if I did stay over and I'm not sure I want to keep going down that path straight away. It makes it awfully hard to come back from that place. We exchanged a few emails, and I found myself quivering like a school girl waiting to hear from him. The sane part of my mind was warning me not to run away with myself just yet, but there was a stronger, more interesting side convincing me to step into that deep, unknown pool.

I worked from the London office on the day of our date, and whilst I finished late I still got to the restaurant too early. So I went for a mooch, soaking up the energy of the capital. I wasn't expecting to see him on my travels, but we bumped into each other as he walked to the restaurant from the tube. He laughed and teasingly told me I was walking the wrong way. I knew I was, but it wasn't worth the energy explaining. Again, that hard side of him. And yet there was softness too, right in his bristly brown face.

The restaurant was loud and busy. Possibly a more so than I would have liked. We chatted, we drank sherry, ate Basque ham and figs before ordering a fish pie to share. It was lovely - smoky, but lovely. We talked and talked and talked. There were some lulls in the conversation but I didn't mind them too much. I could feel the swells of nervousness and it wasn't for some time that I realised he was feeling them too. He often looks off into the distance as he's talking, or about to say something, and I can't quite tell if he's bored or if he's thinking. It generally turned out to be thinking - I think that must be a little quirk.

I picked a white wine and it was lovely. We had people that knew about the food and the wine (although the wine guy seemed to just repeat the word 'tannins' and I sort of lost interest). No pudding, and after he paid the bill (what a treat!) we left. We walked through Holborn, and he suddenly realised where we were - outside the conference room where we'd first met at the symposium.

We got in a cab, and he took me to Milk & Honey. It is a private members club in Soho. I felt the flush of adrenaline course through me, was this excitement? Was fear here too? The outside of the building wasn't marked. We went in, greeted by an elegant woman with luscious red lips. She rang up to The Red Room, where Ben had booked. This is when I tumbled into 'where the fuck have you brought me' territory. He had a somewhat crazed look on his face and I don't yet know him well enough to judge whether he was excited or about to offer me as a human sacrifice. The lovely lady said 'he's ready when you are', took my bags and we walked upstairs.

Heaven awaited me. A decadent 1930s style bar, with cocktail cabinets, Art Deco mirrors and dimmed lighting awaited us. He bought champagne. We chatted, it was heaven. He'd brought me somewhere he knew I would like and I was flushed with pleasure. I couldn't remember the last time someone went out of their way to do something nice for me. I'm sure they do, but to have Ben treat me so nicely and to really feel seen by him was a real treasure.

We chatted and chatted. Our hands touched slightly, then more, then more. Then caresses. Then holding hands, then kisses. Lots of delicious kisses. We talked about seeing each other again, and he walked me to the station and saw me off.

An email and a text the next day had me reeling with delight.