Sweet and Sour

Went out for a quiet drink with Jane and Nettie Friday night. T'was a very old fashioned night of feminine story telling.

At the end of the night a group of men joined the table. Amongst them, Fraser. I noticed him immediately. He he was the only person, besides me, wearing a hat, he was extraordinarily pretty. Ten minutes into the conversation we were being thrown out of the bar. Fraser asked, quietly, if I wanted to go home with him. I don't know what prompted me to say yes. Just, I think, that yes was the truth.

Nettie was not happy. 'We will fall out over this' she warned me. She was right.

It was, I realise, a stupid, high risk, course of action. It's not something I would normally do. It didn't end in tears, and it won't end in marriage, it was a night I'll remember warmly.

We chatted, smoked, inhaled the sexiest bits of his music collection, kissed, it was lovely enough to persuade me out of the no kissing rule. We danced at 5am. Stroked, soothed and cuddled.

His house was horrid, the worse I've ever been in. So bad I was compelled to clean his lounge before staying, kitchen before leaving. He lives by himself although his brother stays sometimes and his Dad likewise. He had all the signs of a kid that probably spent a great deal of his life on an 'at risk' register. He lives with Dad as 'someone had to take care of him when mum left'. Mum left with the other brother, Dad works on a farm in Sussex and sleeps in a barn mostly. He turned up at midday the next day and was immensely proud of his son, but so damaged that nurturing was obviously beyond him.

I wanted to mother him, splash his place with some feminine magic. I wanted to look after him. His father told as he dropped me home that 'we are like brothers you know'. They were. His life is utterly chaotic. The signs of too much pot clearly visible in the wreckage, the stacks of unopened bills, the way he felt about himself. I wanted to put the chaos right, would have taken years.

Yet, from the kind of life you don't want to see anyone you care for leading, he'd got himself to university. Qualified as a marine biologist. Had big plans I hope the pot doesn't stop him actioning.

I felt marvelous with him, he had beautiful manners, was utterly charming.

Felt rubbish when I got home the next day.

Nettie & I haven't talked properly since the shouting at me stopped, need to, but I don't think either of us are up to it yet. I know it's not clever, I can take responsibility for the fact she worried, have copiously apologised for it. Not sure the the differences of opinion on the 'stupidity' of going to a council estate, or the judgments about me, made because of it, are going to be so easy to reconcile. Love her, will give it my best shot. If not, I may be moving.