The Date

John wipes his face with this handkerchief. He doesn’t normally sweat under pressure and is surprised by his nervousness. After all they’ve shared numerous emails, follow each other on Snapchat and Instagram, and have spoken on the phone twice. Consequently they each know what the other looks and sounds like and have managed to confirm that neither of them exaggerated too much in their online profiles.

Alice removes her earphones as she enters the restaurant. Walking towards John her heart jumps. And again as he rises, smiles shyly and pulls out a chair for her. What a gentleman and so tall. John clears his throat, straightens his tie and picks up the minimal choice menu to hide his face-to-face shyness.

Forty-five minutes later they are each picking at the bland food whilst lamenting the strained atmosphere between them. Alice is desperately trying to come up with a convincing enough reason for her to leave early to save them both from more embarrassment. If only she’d taken her friend Lizzie up on the suggestion that she ring her after thirty minutes or so, in case she needed a get out. She’d been so sure that there’d be no need as they’d got on so famously online. She looks up and seeing John’s grimace as he attempts to chew a particularly tough piece of meat she laughs. He does too. The tension is broken.

The dessert - apple pie with some thin custard - is as tasteless as the main course and the accompanying beverages weak but this matters little as the rest of the evening passes in a warm blur of chat and laughter. Deep in conversation, this one about their recent YouTube favourites (the similarity in taste is reassuring) the couple don’t hear the resident band back up and leave. The waitress coughs several times before they notice that they are the only ones’ left, their messy table surrounded by empty others.

After paying the bill John accompanies Alice to the night bus. His mother brought him up believe that a man always positions himself nearest to the road and the traffic when walking with a lady. Used to this when out with her dad Alice appreciates the gesture. They pass an older couple. The man lifts his hat, smiles and wishes them well.  Reassuring John that the bus does indeed stop outside her house with an App on her phone, Alice leans into him for a selfie. He waves her off then walks home in the dark. Our young sweethearts both have early starts tomorrow; he’s re-joining his regiment, she’s on first shift at the factory.

Once home John pulls the heavy curtains before turning on the light. He checks his phone and smiles at the photo Alice took of them. He hoping it’s the first of many. A couple of minutes later he checks his phone again, and then again.  Nothing. Maybe, probably, he should contact her first. Of course he should.

Alice is brushing her teeth when she hears the text arrive. Replying she ends: stay safe x. Before jumping into bed and asking Alexa to turn off the lights and play her favourite of the moment – Glenn’s String of Pearls – she crosses through today’s square on the calendar: 4^th January 1942.