This was the third time he stood readjusting his bow tie. As he fiddled with it in front of his antique full length mirror. He brushed down the dark green dinner jacket he wore, for the fourth time with his clothes brush. As he glanced at his chiming Victorian gold plated clock on his dresser, it had just gone Four-thirty. He clicked his fingers and said. "The Bordeaux". He placed the clothes brush on his dresser. As he walked out of his bedroom, closing the door after him.

He strode along the hallway humming a little tune to himself. As he padded down the oak panelled staircase with a little bounce in his step. He walked towards the east side of the mansion, passing the main open-plan entrance. As he opened the smaller victorian door into the country styled kitchen. The black and white tiled floor echoed his foot steps, as he walked to the far right-hand corner of the room towards a white wooden hidden door.

He felt along the top of the door-frame, for a sliding panel. When he touched it, it revealed a switch that he pressed down and the lock to the small cellar door clicked open. He pushed the door slightly and felt for the electric light switch nearest the door, and the lights flickered on. He took the small staircase gently, as the wooden steps were very small and creaked under his weight. As he reached the bottom of the stone floor. He walked along four room height racks that stood in rows filled with various bottles. There was Champagne, White wine, Rose wine bottles either chilled or warmed to perfection. The Red wine section was at the back far right, nearest the warmest part of the cellar.

He bent down towards an old create, embossed with the words "Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux Rouge" situated in the far corner. He bent down and opened the crate and took out one bottle of the 1967 variety he and Emma had sampled some ten years previously. Bizarrely the bottle was not dusty, as if he regularly came to the cellar to clean them. Or it could be because the crate had not been opened since 1967? He turned the bottle over in his hands and smiled to himself, as he brushed his thumb over the lettering and year on the label. He rose up and stood over the remaining six bottles in the create and smiled once more to himself. He was remembering each time a bottle had been drunk and what they had done afterwards. He hoped she remembered those times with the same pleasure he felt. And he wished the the same feelings would come back when they sampled this bottle this evening.

He said to himself, "let's bring the past to the present again Emma", as his smile broadened across his face once more. He walked along the stone floor passing the wine racks holding the bottle tightly in his grasp. As he carefully took each creaked wooden step back up the stairs. He switched the light switch off and closed the door gently, the latch locking afterwards. He walked through his Victorian kitchen, through the door into the main entrance hallway. He turned and walked into his living room and sat down on his light green chesterfield leather sofa. He placed the bottle carefully down on his dark green leather covered oak table. As he reached for the phone receiver and dialled the number for the small French bistro, Chez Henri, situated in a small unknown area of town.

The owner Henri answered cheerily. "Le Chez Henri Bistro".

As Steed spoke, he said, "Oh, Henri old chap. Is there a table for two free for your old friend Steed here? Available for say around 6:30 this evening?"

"Ah, Monsieur Steed. Wee, wee, non problèm."
"Oh, excellentè Henri, is it non problèm if I bring my own wine?". Steed enquired.

"Non problèm, at all Monsieur Steed. You have always the finest of tastes Monsieur. I shall have a table ready for you at 6:30."

"Excellentè Henri. Make sure it is the quiet table in the far left corner, nearest the fire place." Steed requested.

"Ah, as you wish Monsieur Steed. It shall be done. See you and your guest at 6:30 Monsieur."

"Merci beaucoup, Henri". Steed thanked him, and replaced the receiver in the phone's cradle.

The Grandfather clock chimed once, as Steed realised it was now four-forty-five. He clicked his fingers once more as he said, "Oh Lord, at this rate I'm going to be late."

He rose from his leather sofa and walked over towards his large oak Grandfathers desk. He took his house keys, and car keys from their position near his writing pad, and placed them in his pocket. He turned, and walked across his living room towards the mirror above the fireplace. He readjusted his bow tie again, patted down his lapels.

And he stared at himself and said, "let tonight become our greatest memory Emma". He smirked at his reflection, as if he was practicing what he was going to say to her.

He turned, looked at the Bordeaux bottle, collecting it from the coffee table. As he turned and looked around the living room to his home. He smiled at himself and rose the wine bottle as if to say a toast, as he said, "here's to the past becoming my future".

He walked out of his living room with the spring back in his step. As he walked across to entrance way towards the large victorian oak door. As he opened it, and left his empty country home, as he walked towards his parked green jaguar. Opening the car door, he sat in the cool leather seat, placing the Bordeaux wine bottle carefully in the seat next to him.

He thought to himself. Perhaps this was the last time his home would be lost to the memories of the past. He smiled to himself. As he started the car engine, it roared to life. He touched the throttle, and changed gear, as the wheels turned and dug heavily into the gravel, as the car edged forward onto its exciting new journey. His thoughts, hopes and dreams were slowly becoming a reality. It would be his future that would control his life now. A future with her beside him, and only he could make that happen, and it began tonight.