Thanks for the reviews so far, and yes, it's far from a new idea but hopefully it's one that has not been set in this particular time line before.
In a world of decision makers and prevaricators, Harry Pearce was a decision maker.
He was the maker of the most difficult of decisions.
A maker of decisions that most people could never imagine, let alone make.
But on this occasion the decision would not come.
After fifteen minutes he finally knocked on the door.
It was eight o'clock.
He proffered the bottle that had been the cause of such quandary.
"I didn't want to appear presumptuous, but it seemed rude to bring nothing."
She nodded.
It was a bottle of white burgundy. The fact was not lost on her.
"Come in," she said.
She handed him a glass.
"Have you eaten?"
"A sandwich," he answered.
"When?"
"About half two."
She suspected as much.
"I've ordered us a Thai," she said.
She knew him. Better than anyone.
"In the meantime we should get on, Harry."
And so they began. Testing the legend, learning the legend, becoming the legend.
"Coffee: black," she stated, "Tea: builders with a splash of milk."
He nodded.
"Coffee: rarely," he ventured, "Tea: earl grey or peppermint."
Her turn to nod.
"Drink : single malt, neat and a good glass of wine, over dinner."
He agreed.
"Wine: anything fruity, but not sweet. Occasional gin and tonic or brandy, if the need arises."
She wasn't fully sure how he knew that, but he did.
"Okay, she said, "….breakfast. Cereal, or toast?"
"Toast."
"White, or brown?"
"White."
"Butter or marg?"
"Butter" he admitted.
With…?"
"An egg. And bacon. Possibly black pudding."
"Is there anything at all healthy in your diet, Harry?"
"Porridge" he said, quickly, "…in winter."
She waited for him to continue.
"… With golden syrup."
He looked somewhat abashed.
"I'm amazed you've lasted this long, Harry."
The doorbell saved him. The take away had arrived.
As she served up in the kitchen and he sat waiting, he pondered the scenario. Was this not what he had wanted for so long, the two of them together, out of work, having dinner.
But it was work. She had said 'no'.
It's work, he rammed home, just work, no more, not real, not true, not at all true, just work.
She served up the food about to take it through and she wondered how different it would be if she was serving it up for real, serving him, living with him … sleeping with him.
But it was just work.
And she had said 'no'.