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Over the past few months Charles had gotten into the habit of waving and smiling. Every so often he would walk past and they would briefly share a few words. Charles was in his early thirties. He had been married to a Swiss girl he met through his horrendous tedious job at a consultancy firm, but the marriage ended after two intense years. And not on good terms.It was an intensely hot August afternoon and Charles was making his way home from work. He could make the walk from the office to his home in about forty minutes, or cycle in twenty, but on a day like this he just walked. Charles was from the Scottish Highlands and had never acclimatised to the significantly hotter climate of southern England. On this particular evening Lucy was lying in her garden, sunning herself. She was a sophisticated woman, with beautifully sun-kissed skin, and a very handsome figure. Obviously Tommy had a decent job, judging by the fact he was rarely around the neighbourhood, and from the way Lucy. "It's not expensive," he said, "it's going to be a special present, something personal. A special experience."Very late on the night in question we got in his car and he made me wear a blindfold. He was very cheerful and eager to please and kept reassuring me that it was going to be something wonderful for both of us. He set off and within maybe one turn I lost all sense of direction or distance. There was something sort of exciting about this. Now and then his hand squeezed my leg.After what seemed a long time he turned into somewhere and slowly came to a halt. He turned the engine off. "Keep your blindfold on," he said. He got out of the car and came to help me out of the passenger side. Cool night air and silence, the crunch of gravel under my feet. He led me carefully forward. "What do you feel in front of you?" he said.I put my hands out gingerly and felt rough worn wood. "A picnic table....? I said, picturing candles and wine and the sort of romance that really.
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