It was a warm July night as I strolled across Tower Bridge from my hotel to a small Italian restaurant on the other side of the Thames. My name is Mike and I'm a businessman in my mid fifties. I've been in an important all day meeting so I'm looking forward to a relaxing drink and meal.
"Is that you, Mike?" said a female voice as I weaved my way through the crowd. I looked up and saw Emily smiling at me.
"Yes, it's me," I replied adding, "What a pleasant surprise, Emily."
Emily was a former colleague of mine in her late thirties and she wore a dark red blouse with blue jeans. We moved close to the railings so that people could pass and talked for several minutes. Emily explained that she is visiting London for a week with her two children, a boy of nine and a seven year old girl. The kids had gone to stay over with her ex-husband, who lives in Hammersmith, and Emily was enjoying some time alone.
"Will you join me for dinner?" I asked.
"I would but I'm not dressed for a restaurant," she replied.
"Emily, you look fine to me and I can recommend a small Italian place just over the bridge."
"Okay then."
We walked across the bridge and managed to get a quiet table in a small alcove in the restaurant. I looked across at Emily and noticed that she had gained a few pounds over the years but she looked great. Her curly jet black hair hung loose and she was wearing a little make-up. Her lovely smile was just as I remembered it.
We ate, drank wine and talked for over two hours. It had been about fifteen years since I saw Emily and she gave me a brief account of her life in those intervening years. She had married twelve years ago and they had the two children before separating then divorcing about three years ago. Emily had remained in her home town in Northern England and her ex-husband had moved to London with his work.
