CHAPTER 1
It was the mother I noticed first. A woman, possibly fifty, but looking good. A mature figure but a good one in tasteful well-fitting clothes, doubtless with a good foundation. Nicely made-up with a hairstyle which suited her. Not overdone, just right for going out shopping. Someone it was a pleasure to see. Even the way she held herself was a woman confident in who she was.
Women of all ages can be good to look at and she certainly displayed herself to advantage with taste.
I didn't notice her daughter immediately, as she was on the other side of her. When I did she was about my age and looked really nice. She saw me looking appreciatively and turned away shyly to inspect some sliced meats.
When I see women like her mother, I really wish I could go up and tell them how good they look, but it's not done. What a shame we cannot pass on compliments.
And for someone like the daughter, I would love to find some reason to talk to her. But what could I say?
Trying not to be too obvious I managed to see them again several times in the aisles.
Had she really given me a little smile?
I tried to get to the checkout just after them, but someone cut in with a trolley, and by the time I got through, they'd gone.
A couple of weeks later, I saw the mother alone.
Over the next couple of months, I saw my mystery girl a few times in different places, always with her mother. I got the impression she was very shy. But she definitely looked back at me.
It was in the supermarket again. They were looking at clothes, and the mother saw me coming in, and came over.
"I saw you looking at my daughter," she began.
"Sorry, no offence," I stumbled. "She looks nice."
"It's all right," she smiled. "She recognised you from school and wondered if you'd like to have coffee upstairs, only she's a bit shy, and maybe you don't have the time or..."
I guess she meant did I have someone else. The answer was no, not by a long chalk.
"Yeah, that'd be nice," I said, and she waved her daughter over.
So we had been at school together. It must have been in different years, or I would have been sure to remember her. Probably a couple of years below, though I don't know how she would remember me. I didn't remember any female fans. I must have made a prat of myself somehow.
"Hello, Noah," she said, "I'm Julia, but you won't remember me."
"Hi," was all I could say.
We went upstairs to the café and I bought coffees. I took a cake, but she didn't, so I was a bit embarrassed.
We had two things in common. We had been to the same school and we were both shy. So the conversation didn't exactly sparkle.
Yes, we remembered the same teachers. We both had fairly uninteresting jobs, though we both said "that's interesting".
We managed to say that we had no other person "at the moment".
With a heroic effort I managed to say "Maybe we could meet up again, go out somewhere?"
"I'd like to see you again," she said, blushing.
"But just to be friends. I don't want to have sex. Sorry."
There were tears just starting to swell in her eyes.
"That's fine," I said. "Let's just be friends. It makes it easier now we know. And I really would like to see you some more."
She was almost choking as she said "Thank you, I'll look forward to it," got up and hurried off.
A moment later she was back.
"Here's my phone number. Don't phone me, just text me. Then we'll be able to contact each other."
(Text is better for shy people. Not being caught unawares, having time to think instead of stumbling. No, I'm not one of those people racing away with my thumbs, and it turned out she wasn't either. Texts were few and replies took time.)
I sat there for a while, and they cleared the table.
I hadn't really been hoping for sex, not immediately. But with an attractive girl, of course it was in the back of my mind as the long-term aim.
With a total lack of originality, we arranged to meet in the café again.
She looked great again. Things went a bit better. I was still clumsy and she was still shy and apologetic, but I think we could both see something.
A step was made when we went for a drink in the pub.
The pub on the other side of the car park from the supermarket. Hardly breaking barriers. These two places were it for quite a few weeks, as she was reluctant to go elsewhere for some reason. I would really have liked to show her off, or at least walk around the city or go to a film, but she said not yet.
We had a similar sense of humour, and liked or disliked a lot of the same things. We'd both lived around here all our lives, so we knew the city, and also remembered things such as the old playground before the council improved it.
She was like a really good man friend, with the advantage of being drop dead gorgeous, but the disadvantage of being out of bounds as a girlfriend.
"I'm sure I remember you somehow," I said one day.
"Did you change your hair or something?"
"Yes," she said, "quite a bit. I have smartened myself up, I think."
So I told her accurately how gorgeous she was, and she blushed, denied it, but was pleased.
She said her mum had quite an important job in the council offices, and just said her dad wasn't around.
I didn't ask any more, but I wondered if she had had some bad experience which is why she had actually told me sex was not possible. It could be physical or mental, but there was no way I could ask.
It even progressed to an actual date. A meal in a proper restaurant. I was just happy with her company, but even happier when she let me kiss her.
Gradually it became more regular and a bit more relaxed. Just walking around places together.
She was so nice and I was so proud of her.
CHAPTER 2
When it was my birthday, of course we had a meal, and drank a bottle of wine between us, which was more than we were both used to.
Which is probably why, when she went to the toilet, she went to the Gents.
She pulled herself up sharply, and went into the Ladies.
I guess it was the alcohol which made me ask.
"I'm sorry to ask this, and I don't want to cause offence, but are you a man?"
