As so often happens, I changed my mind on this story and this chapter is the result.

12 Years Earlier

This was his kind of book shop, the old wooden floor to ceiling shelves crammed with books made the shop seem even smaller in comparison to the shiny new book shops which had seemed to take over the city indeed the country. Those new shops with their wide aisles and bright lights and of course the requisite booth selling upscale coffees and teas sold only best sellers or so it seemed to Tom unlike this shop which had a wide variety of all types of books, especially those on history and politics, many of which were hard to find anywhere else.

There were no seating areas here where one could peruse their book before purchasing or sit eating a scone while sipping a skinny mocha grande latte. No in this shop one thumbed through the book while standing in the narrow aisle blocking passage of any other customer as Tom was doing now.

Sybil had already quietly said "excuse me" at the young man standing in the aisle but he seemed so intent on whatever it was he was reading that he hadn't heard her.

Although the aura of this shop caused one to speak in hush tones, Sybil thought she'd have to speak up to awaken this man.

"Excuse me" she spoke again, a bit louder this time, while gently touching his arm.

"Sorry" he said absently mindedly into the air without turning to look at the voice although he moved closer to the shelf so the speaker could get by.

Neither he nor Sybil realized his backpack which lay on the floor beside him was jutting into the aisle. That is neither realized it until tripping over the bag Sybil went sprawling quite unlady like, her arms flailing in a feeble attempt to keep upright. Realizing the situation, a very quick moving Tom managed to grab hold of one of her arms while his other arm instinctively went around her waist which did prevent her from actually falling on the floor.

However, in flinging her arms wildly, Sybil knocked a book, which by it's size could more accurately be described as a tome, off the shelf and it landed with a thud on Tom's foot eliciting a loud "fecking hell" from him and causing his arms to let go of Sybil who then fell squarely on her bum. While she wasn't hurt from the fall, the shock of it was surprising and she sat there stunned.

The commotion raised the interest of the other patrons of the book shop, as well as the owner, and several converged on either end of the aisle.

Seeing Sybil sitting on the floor, the owner immediately rushed to her asking if she was all right.

"I'm fine" she said as he helped her stand up. "But I think I might have broken this man's foot."

Tom, who had stopped his cursing by now although his foot was still throbbing, finally took his eyes off his foot and for the first time looked at the girl. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something smart when his eyes locked on her face and any such thoughts vanished as he looked at the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Present Day

"You are going to Dave's New Year's Eve party aren't you?" asked Simon.

"Yeah … sure …" Tom answered his flat mate.

"You don't sound too excited" Simon responded to Tom's less than enthusiastic response.

"Well …"

"It's time for you to get out again" Simon broke in before Tom could finish. "Who knows the girl of your dreams might be there."

Tom rolled his eyes before answering Simon. "Yeah. I'm sure there will be tons of single beautiful women at Dave's just waiting for the likes of us."

"You forget now that he's married his wife Sheila will be trying to pair up all her single friends."

Tom gave Simon a look that easily said "are you crazy?"

"You think the girl of my dreams could be a friend of Sheila's?" Tom asked incredulously.

Tom had known Dave since they attended Trinity College in Dublin. Dave was an easy going sort with a quick smile and a kind word for everyone. Tom remembered some of the girls Dave had gone out with back at Trinity and none were like Sheila. Those girls had been nice friendly sorts who got along not only with Dave but his friends too, girls who had accepted Dave and his friends for who they were.

After Trinity, when Tom moved to England for graduate school, he saw Dave whenever he visited home. But after Tom moved to Hong Kong their contact had generally been the yearly Christmas card and an occasional email usually during rugby season either lamenting or bragging about the Irish teams.

"And are you forgetting exactly what Sheila is like?" Tom blurted before realizing what he was saying. "Her personality is grating."

"Yeah she is kinda domineering" Simon agreed with his friend.

"Kinda?"

Simon laughed. "Okay she IS domineering. Last week when some of us lads met up for drinks after work she called him three times in less than two hours."

Tom rolled his eyes once again.

"But the really bad part is that Dave only had one pint" Simon sounded absolutely outraged. "Two hours and one pint can you imagine?"

That's the trouble Tom thought, it's just like some women to be all sweet and nice until they rope you in and then once they think they've got you they try to change you. "You met up with the lads last week for drinks" or "you played rugby last Sunday" or "don't you think it's time you starting looking to buy a property?" Of course that last one Tom translated into "don't you think it's time to settle down and get married."

Not that Tom was opposed to marriage. Not at all. He wanted marriage and children but he just hadn't met anyone he could imagine spending his life with. Actually that wasn't true he thought … there had been one … but that had been so long ago and they had been so young and …

"Tom" Simon called out waking Tom from his thoughts. "It's been what two three months since you broke off with Aimee? Have you had a date since?"

"I've been busy at work" Tom snapped at his friend. Realizing that he might have sounded a bit too harsh Tom continued in a decidedly kinder voice "really work has been super busy and with a new boss it's been a bit tricky trying to figure out what pleases him."

"Yeah" Simon grinned "well maybe it's just that I have a hard time reconciling the work Tom with the guy I palled around with at university. The guy who probably didn't go a week without a date, the guy who was always up for a drink or two at the pub or a game of rugby."

That's the trouble with hanging out with guys that had known you for so long thought Tom, they remember your past, in fact they were a part of a lot of it.

When Tom had moved to London almost two years ago now, he had a ready made circle of friends living in the city. They were mostly guys that he had gone to university with and even two guys that he had known in high school. Some had come to London when that Irish miracle, the economic boom, had finally come crashing down, while others had been here for many years.

After being away from Ireland since he had graduated from Trinity, first at graduate school in England, then in Hong Kong, then Berlin and now London, Tom loved that he was back in close contact with his Irish mates. It had certainly made his move to London the easiest move he had done.

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During the next few days after that phone call with her mother, Sybil had thought a lot about her life. After all the New Year was only days away and wasn't it supposed to be a time for reflection, a time to assess where you were in life and where you wanted to go, a chance to make a new beginning with the new year.

Hogwash thought Sybil. You don't have to wait for New Year's Day to make changes in your life. People changed jobs or moved to a new city or got married or divorced every day of the year, people didn't wait for New Year's to make those decisions or take those actions.

Sybil herself had made a drastic change five years ago when she decided to go to nursing school. The job she had loved at the non-profit in Edinburgh had become more and more of a drudge. She saw less and less of the money taken in spent on doing truly good works. She had become appalled at the idea of spending thousands of dollars on charity dinners or balls only to realize they were lucky to make one-tenth of their costs for the actual charitable good works.

She had been thinking of what she'd like to do when a close friend had become quite ill. After many visits to the hospital and watching the nurses and doctors, it suddenly dawned on Sybil that that was what she wanted to do. Becoming a doctor would take too long and Sybil wasn't sure she was up to the required study and effort it would take but becoming a nurse seemed like a good alternative.

Her parents, predictably, were aghast that Sybil decided to go to nursing school. They might have been somewhat mollified if she had become a doctor because that was a bit more prestigious than being a nurse. But Sybil was nothing if not determined and stubborn and she had set her sights on becoming a nurse.

She attended nursing school in London and after graduation decided to stay in London, a city she had grown to love. She had been working for almost three years now and had switched to emergency room care just over a year ago. The work was challenging, sometimes depressing, always rewarding and with new patients every day never dull.

Sybil had come to realize that what her parents really wanted was for her to settle down and marry. Not that they had ever approved of any of her long-term boyfriends of which there had only been the three, Tom, Paul, and James. None of course had been the right pedigree meaning none were sons of nobility. Paul at least had come from a somewhat wealthy family due to his father's job in the stock market.

Sybil had thought that after her sister's Edith choices her parents wouldn't be so picky when it came to her. Edith had dated a married man, practically living with him, for several years before she realized that he was never going to get a divorce and marry her. She then married a man twenty years her senior who offered her the stability she craved. Now with a one-year old daughter, Edith seemed happier than Sybil had ever seen her.

Mary, after much drama, had finally married Matthew the heir to her father's title. So now with both of her sisters happily married, her mother's focus had turned to Sybil much to Sybil's displeasure especially if her mother thought a rat like Larry Grey was a good catch.

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"Black tie?" Tom asked incredulously. "Seriously Black Tie for a party at her house … that's … that's just unbelievable. It's a flat in Shoreditch not some posh house in Knightsbridge or Kensington."

When he and Simon had first talked about Dave's party it was after seeing Dave at the pub and he had invited them, as well as their whole crowd, to the party he and Sheila were throwing on New Year's Eve. There had certainly been no mention of "black tie" a detail which Tom wondered why Dave forgot to mention. Was even Dave rather embarrassed by his wife's pretentiousness.

Simon and Eamon laughed along with Tom.

"That's our lovable Sheila for you" Eamon offered.

Tom looked at his friend. "Are you going to wear Black Tie?"

"Luckily I'm not going. Nancy and I had already made other plans when we got the invitation from Sheila" Eamon answered.

"Well Tom the invitation does say Black Tie" Simon stated. "Do you think she'll let us in if we're not so dressed?"

"Would it be so terrible if she didn't?" countered Tom.

It wasn't that Tom was so opposed to Black Tie. As a journalist for the BBC, especially when living abroad, he had been invited to many such affairs and had even bought his own tuxedo and matching pants which had been tailored especially for him. One of the perks of living in Hong Kong had been the accessibility and affordability of tailor made suits and Tom had taken advantage of this and had several such suits. He had a wardrobe that far outmatched his position.

What Tom was opposed to was that this was a party in a friend's flat, not at some posh hotel or swanky address. The only fancy New Year's Eve parties he had attended had been one at the British Consulate in Hong Kong and then more recently with Anja at the Swedish Embassy in Berlin. Both of those had been big affairs attended by probably a hundred or more guests. Furthermore both those affairs had been more of a business venture, a chance for schmoozing for probably all of the attendees rather than a simple party celebrating the New Year.

As he looked again at the invitation, which was engraved as if it was for a wedding, Tom wondered when did New Year's Eve become such a big deal.