Getting off the bus I was hit by an icy blast of wind and sleet that this month of february kept dishing out.
My plan had been to walk to beaulah grove as it wasn't far from our house, however the cold and sleet had changed my mind.
Thrusting my hands deep into the fur lined pockets of my big winter coat, I strode on, hood up and head down.....towards Beulah grove, I was a little late, it was gone three thirty.
That morning seemed like a thousand years ago, when I'd waved John off to work.
My shift at the supermarket had dragged at an unbelievably slow rate.
Not even immersing myself in daydreams had helped.
Once back home I had a quick shower then did my hair.
Put the lingerie carefully on, checking my look in the mirror....good...he was going to like it....if...
If?
This was openly a chat over a cuppa with Dave's elderly friend, but what if?
My mind raced as I continued getting dressed.
On top of the white lingerie I wore a smart grey skirt, below the knee, didn't want to look tarty and draw attention to myself.
White blouse and a big sweater, it was winter after all.
Boots finished everything off.
My hair I'd just tied up with a bobble. I knew he liked long blonde hair so I was going to wear it long and loose, just take the bobble out on arrival.
Dave had phoned me before I set off, asking if I was ok and reassuring me there was no pressure to do anything and that Sammy was very easy to get along with.
Speaking to Dave did ease my nerves a little.
I recall the first meeting with Alan, at the pub, I was nervous then.
And I already knew Alan a little, from the emails and phone calls. Sammy was like a stranger.
Also, Alan had been more nervous than me. I didn't know what Sammy would be like, although he was very eager to meet me....so...no apparent nerves.
"Wish the same could be said for me." I muttered into my buffeted hood, glancing up off the pavement, squinting against bitter wind....I see the place, beaulah grove, looming in the distance.
An ugly grey building, a relic from the seventies.
I got my head down and quickened the pace, despite my nerves I was eager to get somewhere warm.
My mind really was reeling, at work that morning I'd kept making mistakes and being generally clumsy....I just couldn't stop thinking about Sammy and our meeting.
Those two things, age and race....the fact he was eighty six...and Indian...stirred my imagination like nothing before.
I was beside myself with nervous excitement...doubts too...crept in.
Would he even be able to do anything?
Would it go that far on this first meeting?
I brushed these thoughts aside, or tried to, as I strode up to beaulah groves main door.
Studying the security intercom, looking for number ten, Sammy's flat.
Seeing the faded number I pressed call....
Beep.....beep....beep.
The sound was loud even in this wind.
Sammy answered on four beeps... and I thought the call noise had been loud....
Not that Sammy had a loud voice, it was just that the intercom had an amplifier or something on it, probably for the hard of hearing.
Well, I winced and drew back away from it, muttering, "Shit!" Under my breath.
Instantly hoping he hadn't heard me. A second, "Hello?" echoed across the car park....."Sammy?.... it's Pippa....Dave's friend." I replied quickly.
There was an instant and enthusiastic response, "Ah Pippa...so nice of you to come....please come on in... I'll buzz you."
The big door suddenly buzzed and a click could be heard.
I pushed open the heavy door and entered a type of foyer area.
Continuing forward through some double doors with bubbled glass, into a reception area.
Two things hit me at once, a musty smell and the dated decor and furniture inside.
The reception was large and resembled a hotel checking in area.
A large front desk stretched out directly before me, to my right and left corridors led off.
As I took in my surroundings, I noticed a man busy typing behind the front desk, he stopped what he was doing and looked up, "You alright love?....who are you looking for?"
I replied with a cheery 'hello', then told him who I was there to see.
The man's face lit up in familiar recognition, "Ah yes...good old Sammy he's in flat ten...down there....you'll see...there all numbered."
He pointed at the corridor to my right, and promptly went back to typing.
I thanked him and set off down the brightly lit corridor...feeling my heart thumping....ever faster, as I drew near the end of my journey.
My boots made a dull, fud...fud....fud noise on the thin old carpet beneath them.
Beaulah really needed a makeover. It wasn't exactly grotty but, not far off.
The flat doors to my left were even...2...4....6....8
The door to number 8 was open, fully.
While passing I could see inside part of the living room.
A shadow near the open door moved, and I got a strong feeling that someone was just behind that door.
It gave me the creeps so I quickly moved on....to number 10.
Coming to a stop outside Sammy's door, I glanced behind me to the open door of number 8....nobody there.
Looking back, I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry....then I knocked 3 times...and waited.
A faint noise... approaching footfalls just audible.
The door squeaks open.
I recognise Sammy's beaming smile from the picture Dave showed me and before I have time to say anything, Sammy is welcoming me into his flat with excited greetings.
"Pippa!....your here....thank you...come in.. come in....oh my....thank you for coming to see me...."
He continued in this fashion as we went inside, Sammy closing the door behind me.
I now have my first good look at him.
Sammy's not very tall, just a few inches higher than me, and he's quite thin, frail looking in fact.
He's stooping a little and is wearing baggy looking suit trousers and an equally baggy long sleeve shirt.
It looks as though he's tried to make an effort with his appearance but not quite made it.
His skin colour looks even darker than it did on the picture....my mind suddenly flashes back to a daydream I was having about him just that morning....a very explicit image...
I push it away, trying to concentrate on our greeting but I can feel my face burning, I'm blushing.
Luckily he doesn't seem to notice and continues his enthusiastic welcoming.
"Oh Pippa you look even more beautiful than your picture....you've made me so happy coming to visit....here let me take your coat."
I thank him and tell him that I'm happy to see him too.
I do note that despite living in this country for many years he still has an Indian accent.
Although he has picked up a few yorkshire slang expressions.
He offers to take my coat and while he hangs it up I remove my boots.
Dave had previously told me that Sammy is a clean freak and as I look around, the place is indeed spotless.
The odour has gone too, it smells nice in his flat, fresh.
As he turns around to face me again I notice he's watching me sort my hair out, the old man's big dark eyes seem to widen a little as I remove the bobble and shake my head.
I know he has a thing for long blonde hair.
It's a bold move for me given my nervous state, but I cannot resist the tease.
Just this little act of playing with my hair in front of him, knowing he's watching and enjoying....sets my pulse racing.
As I finish there's an awkward moment where Sammy just stares at me, looking me over.
It seems I've impressed him.
He swallows, then asks me to follow him into the kitchen.
Time for tea and a chat...
The kitchen is tiny, a small rectangular table fastened to one wall is where two chairs are sitting waiting.
Atop the table, a steaming pot of tea and two cups....all laid out ready.
Sammy invites me to sit....which I obediently do.
He sits opposite and pours me a cuppa, then, the conversation begins.
