Chapter XVIII

Saturday morning after the Friday night. So, it was about 8.30 in the morning, and – hang on, never mind about 8.30 in the morning, don’t be so nosey! Let’s see er…9.30 in the morning. There, that’s better. So we went down for breakfast at half nine, hand in hand (aww).
David was there to greet us and show us to our table.
“Did we sleep well madam?”
I think that was waiter speak for “Were we at it like rabbits, madam?”
“Yes the beds are very comfy thank you David.”
“And what can I get for you this morning madam? Can I recommend the full English? The sausages are delicious”
I put my spoon down and glared at him. His gaze did not waver . His ball point poised, his lips pursed.
“I think I’ll just help myself to some melons and yoghurt.”
“Don’t you start.” I said. “I’ll have egg and bacon .thank you”
I snapped my menu shut. David dramatically plucked it from my hand and sashayed back to the kitchen, while Sarah and me settled down to the serious business of making moon eyes at each other. After the moon eyes were over, it was time for a good dose of smiles and giggles, rounded off nicely with a smattering of “sorry, no you first – no really, after you.”
Have you ever had that at the start of a relationship? Complete togetherness then suddenly back to a weird politeness? No? Maybe its just me then
David returned with my eggs. They went cold. I wasn’t hungry. It was bliss.
I think it was that Saturday morning in that fantastic hotel, that I began to think about the possibility of maybe contemplating the chances of me and Sarah having some sort of future together.
Then the phone calls started. “What time are you back? Can you pick him up after training? I’ve got to go out. We had to go.
We packed quickly and checked out. David waved us off. He seemed genuinely sorry to see us go.
The drive back was agony. I thought about how this would probably never happen again.
I felt really down. Back to reality, no less the logistics of being with Sarah. Kids, exs mothers mortgages, it was impossible.
“This is impossible. We cant upset the kids.”
“Don’t worry Tom.” Sarah squeezed my hand. “I have a plan.”
And even Stormin’ Norman Schwarzkopf couldn’t have come up with a better plan than Sarah.

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