The Dinner Date

This is a small rewrite 21/5/2016

It was a nice flat. It was light and spacious with a huge window leading out onto a snow-covered balcony. Theo mooched around it, looking at the books on the bookshelf and then the CDs. In the days of MP3 and ebooks it was difficult to judge a person by their physical collections as so much could be stored on the different devices dotted around the room. Ten years ago it was different, Theo thought to himself, he could just about tell if they would be compatible within five minutes of being left alone in the room. If there were Take That CDs, Helen Fielding Novels and RomCom DVDs, then Theo would know that it was just going to be a one-nighter.

Sarah was a weird one. He’d not really noticed her before despite them sharing an office for nearly two years. She was quiet and kept herself to herself. Her clothes were conservative, her make-up modest and her hair conventional. So when Theo discovered he was sitting next to her at the Christmas party, he’d not been expecting much. But he’d been wrong, she was a barrel of laughs, a real joy to be with. The next day in work she invited him round for dinner and he’d accepted, keen to continue the voyage of discovery.

 When she'd answered the door she’d nearly taken Theo’s breath away. Gone were the conservative clothes. She looked stunning in a black and white dress that showed off a figure that Theo didn’t know she had.

She poured him a glass of red before explaining that she just needed to pop to the shops to buy some herbs, the finishing garnish for the meal. She gave him a delicious peck on the cheek and disappeared. Theo had offered to go but Sarah had insisted she went, telling him to make himself comfortable and have a nose around. He wondered if there was more to the trip to the shops than met the eye. Maybe she wanted to buy condoms and that was why he couldn’t go for her. She couldn’t really ask him could she?

That was twenty minutes ago, Theo had sniffed the dinner, checked out the CDs, used the toilet and checked the bedroom. (He found no cushions or bears on the bed much to his relief, he hated all that twee stuff.)  He liked the flat, he liked the décor, the taste in music seemed okay and if it tasted as good as it smelt the dinner was going to prove Sarah was a good cook.

 He checked his watch again, twenty-five minutes. There must be a queue at the supermarket or traffic on the roads. He went to his coat to retrieve his phone, no message or missed call. He switched the TV on and flicked through the channels. He idly navigated his favourite channels but couldn’t find anything to keep his attention. He watched the news for a bit and then a bit of Eastenders, all the time aware of the passing of time and the fact he was alone in a near stranger’s flat.

He slid the balcony door open. A blast of cold hit him and he could hear sirens wailing in the near distance. The view during the daytime must be spectacular he thought to himself, closing the balcony door again shutting out the cold night air. He went back to the bookshelf plucking a book at random. Maggie’s Milkman, by some author he’d never heard of. He read the back page, it looked interesting, maybe he’d read it if he got the chance.

Thirty-five minutes now, this was a little strange. There were two big supermarkets both only five minutes’ drive from here. Really she should have been back fifteen minutes ago. Should he call her? That might look a little odd mightn’t it? He wandered into the kitchen to check there was no heat on under the saucepan, and then checked his phone again. Nothing. He scratched his head, perplexed.

He sat down and took a gulp of wine and began to read the book he still had in his hand. He’d got twenty pages in without noticing it. Itwas quite the page-turner. He looked at his watch, it was now exactly an hour since he’d arrived. This was really weird. She’d been gone for about fifty-seven minutes. He picked up his phone to call her. He found her number and let it ring. It rang, he knew it rang, because he heard it. The phone was on the kitchen table. Further proof that she had not intended to go out for longer than fifteen minutes. 

Theo poured himself some more wine and tried to lose himself in the book again. He found his attention was taken by every passing car or noise in the building. Hour ten, hour twenty, hour thirty, should he call the police or just go home? Had she had second thoughts and this was her way of getting rid of him? Was he being paranoid for no reason? He tried to relax, he took another mouthful of wine and picked up the book again.

The Original 24/12/2013
It was a nice flat, it was light and spacious with a huge window leading out onto a snow-covered balcony. Theo mooched around it, looking at the books on the bookshelf and then the CDs. In the days of MP3 and ebooks it was difficult to judge a person by their physical collections as so much could be stored on the different devices dotted around the room. 10 years ago it was different, Theo thought to himself, he could just about tell if they would be compatible within 5 minutes of being left alone in the room. If there were Take That CDs, Helen Fielding Novels and RomCom DVDs, then Theo would know that it was just going to be a one-nighter.

Sarah was a weird one, he’d not really noticed her before despite them sharing an office for two years. She was quiet and kept herself to herself, she didn’t really do anything to draw attention to herself, her clothes were conservative, her make-up modest and her hair conventional. So when Theo discovered he was sitting next to her at the Christmas party he’d not been expecting much. But he’d been wrong, she was a barrel of laughs, had a keen sense of humour and a clever eye for mimicry. It had been a pleasant surprise. The next day in work she invited him round for dinner and he’d accepted, keen to continue the voyage of discovery.

 She'd answered the door and had nearly taken Theo’s breath away, gone were the conservative clothes, she looked stunning in a black and white dress that showed off a figure that Theo didn’t know she had. Another pleasant surprise. She poured him a glass of red before explaining that she just needed to pop to the shops to buy some herbs, the finishing garnish for the meal. Theo had offered to go but Sarah had insisted she went, telling him to make himself comfortable and have a nose around. He wondered if she wanted to buy condoms and that was why he couldn’t go for her, she couldn’t really ask him could she? It was a possibility.

 That was 20 minutes ago, Theo had sniffed the dinner, checked out the CDs, used the toilet and checked the bedroom and found no cushions or bears on the bed much to his relief. He liked the flat, he liked the décor, the taste in music seemed okay and if it tasted as good as it smelt the dinner was going to prove Sarah was a good cook.

 He checked his watch again 25 minutes, there must be a queue at the supermarket or traffic on the roads. He went to his coat to retrieve his phone, no message or missed call. He switched the TV on and flicked through the channels, no Sky Sports so nothing much of interest. He idly navigated his favourite channels but couldn’t find anything to keep his attention. He watched the news for a bit and then a bit of Eastenders, all the time aware of the passing of time and the fact he was alone in a near stranger’s flat.

He slid the balcony door open, a blast of cold hit him and he could hear sirens wailing in the near distance. The view during the daytime must be spectacular he thought to himself closing the balcony door again shutting out the cold night air. He went back to the bookshelf plucking a book at random. Maggie’s Milkman, by some author he’d never heard of. He read the back page, it looked interesting, maybe he’d read it if he got the chance.

35 minutes now, this was a little strange. There were two big supermarkets both 5 minutes’ drive from here. Really she should have been back 15 minutes ago. Should he call her? That might look a little strange mightn’t it? He wandered into the kitchen to check there was no heat on under the saucepan and then checked his phone again. Nothing. 

He sat down and took a gulp of wine and began to read the book he still had in his hand. He’d got 20 pages in without noticing it. It was quite the page-turner. He looked at his watch, it was now exactly an hour since he’d checked his watch just before ringing Sarah’s doorbell. This was really weird. She’d been gone for about 57 minutes. He picked up his phone to call her, he found her number and let it ring. It rang, he knew it rang cos he heard it. The phone was on the kitchen table. Further proof that she had not intended to go out for longer than 15 minutes. 

Theo poured himself some more wine and tried to lose himself in the book again, but found his attention was taken by every passing car or noise in the building. Hour ten, hour twenty, hour thirty, should he call the police or just go home? Had she had second thoughts and this was her way of getting rid of him? Was he being paranoid for no reason? He tried to relax, he took another mouthful of wine and picked up the book again.