Good save, Rory..

What a few days it has been. From the depths of despair on Saturday, it’s all been uphill and I find myself walking on air like Aled Jones after his drink has been spiked by the Snowman.
I did send Philippa an e-mail on Saturday, but not the one I originally planned. It simply said this: “Sorry about last night. I didn’t feel great. Can we try again soon? Like, very soon? Please?”
That night I got a reply from her. The best one I’ve ever received. It said “How about tomorrow?”
No posh food and uncomfortable silences this time. We went to the pictures to see ‘Inception’ and then had fish and chips and an ice-cream and a walk on the beach. We talked and we talked and we talked. We talked about our favourite cheeses, the worst Christmas present we’ve ever received, and all that other rubbish you talk about when you’re relaxed and enjoying someone’s company.
The weather was fine and the evening was warm, and time seemed to stand still as we slowly walked and chatted and got to know more about each other. It was the best night I’ve had for a long, long time.
On Monday morning, knowing I would see her again, I was actually excited about going to work.
Every time I’ve looked at her in the last couple of days, she’s been smiling at me, and she has a beautiful, beautiful smile.

RC 4-8-10