A Story for Valentine’s Day

Romance on the Run

A friend of mine once went speed dating and her account of her experience proved the foundation for this short story ‘Romance on the Run.’ I do hope you enjoy it.

Before that evening Linda hadn’t really been sure what speed dating was. The phrase conjured up a bizarre image of herself clad in her little black dress and gym shoes rushing around with a man in a suit and a pair of trainers. They would have a quick drink at the bar, with the emphasis on the quick, then gobble down a three course meal, shovelling in spade-loads of food at a time whilst talking animatedly, if indistinctly, to each other with their mouths crammed full. Perhaps it would all end with a rapid embrace and peck on the cheek (she couldn’t bear to contemplate anything more, not at that speed, not with her sciatica) before they rushed off to meet other people. It all sounded very exhausting and she wasn’t sure it was seemly at her age.

On the other hand, the leaflet had made it sound fun:

Over 50? Fed up sitting at home on a cold winter’s evening? Come along and find the partner of your dreams. Speed dating event at Holmside village hall Friday 14th February 8 pm.

Since the divorce Linda had, she admitted, been lonely and at this time of year there was a limit to the number of tv soaps she could watch on her own. Well, there wasn’t, but she knew she watched more television than was good for her and, who knew, there might be someone special out there. Even for her. She gave her friend Julie a ring and the pair decided to go together. Safety in numbers.

So on Friday February 14th Linda and Julie could be seen, both clad in their little black dresses - well, not so little in Julie’s case, setting off for the village hall.

It was warm inside with the kind of sweaty heat generated by about twenty anxious

people. Before long a rather bossy looking woman bustled up to them, handed them score cards and asked their names. When they gave them she wrote them on sticky labels in scarlet ink and slapped them on their chests. Linda suppressed the urge to giggle.

“Do you think there should be a bust measurement as well - especially where she’s planted mine?”

“Maybe it should read Desperate... but not that desperate”, replied Julie, scanning the room dismally.

Before Linda could answer, the bossy woman started to clap her hands imperiously and announced:

“Right everyone. We’ll be starting soon, so just in case there are any of you who haven’t been speed dating before . . ‘“ at that she seemed to pause and dart a contemptuous look in Julie and Linda’s direction, ‘‘. . here are the rules:

“I will call out the first pairs. You must find a table and sit down. You have seven minutes to get to know each other. You are allowed to discuss anything except your careers or where you live.”

“You mean I’m not allowed to say I’m a brain surgeon?” muttered Linda to Julie.

“And I can’t tell anyone I live in Windsor Castle!” replied Julie.

The woman glared at them before resuming, “after seven minutes I will ring a bell and the gentlemen will move round clockwise. The ladies will stay still.”

“This is worse than being back at school!” hissed Julie.

Maybe it was Linda’s imagination but at that moment the woman singled out the

least appealing of the men (in Linda’s view) to sit with Julie. It certainly seemed like some sort of reprisal. It looked even more likely when Linda was allocated to a rather tired, wispy-looking man. Oh well, Linda thought to herself, things can only get better.

She sat down opposite the tired man who seemed to be wearing a kind of twinset. A fair isle cardigan and matching tank top. Probably knitted by his mother thought Linda. All he needs is a string of pearls to complete the outfit. Surely enough, his opening gambit was: “I live with my mother. What about you?”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to say where we live,’” replied Linda.

“I didn’t say where I lived, merely with whom.”

Blimey, a strict grammarian to boot! Linda swivelled round to see how Julie was faring but she seemed to be deep in conversation. She could feel the bossy woman’s eyes on her so she turned back trying to think of something to say. But it was alright, the man was already telling her about his cat. A monologue which seemed to take the rest of the time as he was still warbling on when the bell rang.

“Well it’s been nice meeting you,” said the twin-set man, extending a damp hand.

Linda muttered something inaudible in reply then took advantage of his shuffling exit to write a clear no in the box on her scorecard. Phew, one down, nine to go. She looked up and saw Julie’s first date coming towards her. Actually he wasn’t as bad looking as she first thought, in fact close up he was quite nice. Rather too unkempt for her taste but fine in a rugged sort of way. It was clear from the outset though that she wasn’t his type either. In fact all he could talk about for the whole time was Julie. Linda was pleased for her friend - at least she had had a successful evening and Julie deserved a break. It was all downhill for Linda though. Numbers three and four were fat, balding and boring and number five was clearly not interested in her. Number six looked about fifteen and had such a high squeaky voice that Linda had to pretend to cough all the time to disguise her laughter. Numbers seven and eight were nice enough but there was no spark there and by the time number nine arrived Linda had all but given up. In fact she was so busy doodling on her score card and looking at her watch that she didn’t even realise he had sat down. The first she saw was a mop of silver-grey hair and some huge, brown eyes looking at her out of a tanned, intelligent face. Suddenly he had her full attention.

“Hello,” he said with a friendly smile. “Do you come here often?” Linda laughed at the corny line. “Not if I can help it, it’s really not my sort of thing at all.”

“Nor mine. A friend of mine persuaded me to come along. I got divorced last year and I haven’t been out much since.”

“So did I!” exclaimed Linda, “and I know exactly what you mean.”

Suddenly everything seemed to go into slow motion. The noise around them dulled almost to nothing. All she could hear was the drawl of his beautiful voice as she looked into his gorgeous eyes. He seemed smitten with her too.

It was as though they were in a motionless bubble whilst all around them was rush and busyness. Everyone else was speed dating but to Linda time had stood still.

“It seems like we both have some baggage,” the man was saying.

Linda agreed. “I haven’t wanted to go out with anybody for a long time.”

“Me neither. You know”, the man leaned languidly towards her and smiled a lazy smile, “I know this is called speed dating... but I think we should take things slowly. Don’t you?”

Linda smiled at him... slowly... very slowly. Then put a big tick in the box.