And life back in Londres! Why Londres as opposed to London... It must be the influence of my recent Latin American connections.
Fausto had returned from his two weeks in Cambodia and we were to meet outside Sloane Square station for a bite to eat. He delayed the meeting to an hour later, meanwhile, Lola called and popped in to see me. We did not have a chance to talk at a dinner she had given a couple of nights prior, celebrating Hanna's belated birthday. I texted Fausto to re-route and come over to me for dinner, while Lola asked Don to join us with a surprise guest who turned out to be Juan Manuel. My Girl who happened to pass by, also decided to stay which made the table of six complete for a light supper.
At Juan Manuel's curiosity on how Fausto and I met, Fausto simply said:
"Oh! Haldita and I met, fell in love at first glance and she's the reason for my visit to London."
Looking at his tanned, strong features and how he so quickly came up with the story, for a moment, even I believed the tale.
"Ah!" Juan Manuel went on, "I know, you met in Caracas, or no... Wait a minute, I know, it must 'ave been Choroni."
Juan Manuel seemed so convinced with this conclusion, that we decided to play the guessing game.
But he was not quite persuaded by my response:
"So, what else is new?" I asked smiling.
But eventually, he decided to relieve him of the aggravation by telling him the truth of the matter.
"We simply met through a mutual friend before Fausto's trip to Cambodia, in London."
Hence, the drink around the corner with my friend soon turned into a small dinner party at home. I love spontaneous gatherings like this.
During the week, I visited Troy at his new pub, where he was busy re-decorating the place, soon to become one of the city's gastro pubs.
Last night, I called on Salar, in his new high-rise apartment in Canary Wharf and met his college friend; Rodolfo, now visiting London with his wife, Tatti, all the way from Sao Paulo, accompanied by their scientist friend; Roberta, originally from Lisbon. It was a stunning view from the glass balcony, watching the sun set over the tall buildings and the river Thames. When I mentioned being invited by dear friends to many different destinations around the globe, Tatti sweetly added:
"So, now you're invited to Sao Paulo, you must come and visit us."
Later tonight, Salar messaged me to say:
'Hellloooo gorgeoussss'
Me: 'Had a few friends over for dinner. They just left. EARLY
Salar: 'I went to see Batman and the only thing I could see was a friend of my friend's girlfriend's tits!'
'Aaaaagggghhh'
Me: 'Hahaha. They were exceptional I presume. Or even simply good?'
Salar: 'Never seen something like that before ... Will tell you more tomorrow'
Me: 'Can't wait to hear about them... Tomorrow 12... SW4.'
Salar: 'Hahaha. Finally SW4'
I have come to realise, that a good reason for my being single is having so many wonderful friends, who keep my time occupied with their great company. However, a woman has her needs and I recall arranging to meet up with Henry one afternoon. We had been in touch through an online dating site for some time. There was a time, some months ago when we organised a rendezvous at a pub near me. However, Troy had called to meet up earlier at the park, we continued on to lunch in Charlotte Street and headed on to have more drinks at the Waterway in Maida Vale, when my mobile rang at 3.30pm and I picked up:
"Hellooo," I answered, "Oh! Henry, it's you. How are you?"
"Haldita," Henry said coldly, "We were supposed to meet."
"What?" I questioned, "To meet? But... Is it Tuesday? Mmm... Oh My God, it is."
"You forgot?" Henry asked knowingly.
"I'm sorry," I said apologetically, "I totally forgot. So sorry."
"That's alright." He was understanding.
However, with a few drinks down the line, I continued in a jolly mode:
"Oh! But I met up with my friend Troy and we had such a wonderful time walking in Regent's Park and continued on to lunch. I'm being honest here. Can't believe I just forgot. I totally understand if you don't want to meet again."
However, this attitude seemed to have the opposite effect on Henry and he kept on chatting with me on MSN and we finally arranged to meet up, at the same pub months later.
On the day, due to the pouring rain, I simply could not be bothered to leave my flat and when Henry called before the meeting to make sure of my appearance, I insisted he came to see me at home for a drink, without any expectations. I even explained how I could not come out in my suede, cream sandals in that ghastly weather.
Although, not quite convinced at first, he soon gave in to the idea. When he turned up at my door, there stood a tall, distinctive-looking Brit, with salt and pepper hair, in a dark suit. Henry sat on the sofa, as far away from me as he possibly could and sipped on his drink, a slight twist of intimidation visible in his manners. No element of surprise to me, as I tried to make him feel comfortable, conversing on various topics.
As the afternoon progressed, I seemed to be getting closer to Henry on the sofa, every time I returned to my seat, after a refill, some nibbles etc and at one point, we were getting quite intimate when I looked at his face going red as a beetroot, pulled away and asked:
"Are you alright Henry?"
"No... No," He answered, "I've never done this before. This is a first."
"What?" That was my surprised reaction. "You've never done what before exactly?"
"Please understand, I'm totally flattered but I've never been unfaithful," he uttered. "I'm married." He went on to say: "I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry."
I was taken quite aback, as I pulled away to the other side of the sofa while pushing my hair up and making sure my attire was 'proper' and said:
"Yap, It's your fault alright. But you've led me on to believe otherwise all this time!"
He was about to leave when I said:
"No, sit down a moment. Just listen, now that we're here. I can say two things have been fully established. The first one is... I'm no longer into any married man of any sort and the other... You better stay faithful to your lady. You're obviously not cut out for this sort of thing. When you lose, don't lose the lesson."
And on that note... The word 'next' came to mind.
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