A First Date

He had taken a great deal of care over his appearance. He thought that was right and proper. After all, this lady, Catherine, had made the effort in replying to his introductory email on Plenty of Fish with a witty, intelligent response. They had corresponded for a short while, each interaction more intriguing than the last. And she had responded immediately with "2pm" when he suggested they meet! That had surprised him. She meant two in the afternoon the very next day. Decisive, no hanging around with this woman. Worthy of him taking a great deal of care over his appearance then.

Her profile stated she was just a little younger than him. The picture showed a winsome face, with glacier blue eyes that, he thought, would pierce any pretence or bluster.

"Just be yourself, Jeremy. If yourself is not good enough, then so be it, there will be others," but he wondered if that was true, would there be others? Or would he be condemned to a lonely existence, just his work, his colleagues during the working day and his thoughts and loneliness at night and weekends? It was time to leave if he wanted to arrive on time.

He walked down into the city in the warm, autumn sun. He took his time as he did not want to get hot and bothered and create a bad impression. He arrived ten minutes early, slightly warm but not unduly so. He was at the entrance to one of the main car parks in the city. There was a steady flow of cars in and out and a steady flow of people walking in and out too. He breathed deeply, calming himself. He stayed near the wall that bordered the entrance in the shade it offered, taking the chance to cool down before she arrived.

Smack on time, a woman appeared from the direction of the city centre, walking quite quickly. It was her. My, what a cascade of curls, unruly yet vibrant.

"Enchanting," he thought. And, as she saw him, she smiled. Her face lit up with an inner sparkle. He could not help but grin back at her.

"Catherine," he said.

"Jeremy," she answered, unconsciously running her hand through her curls. "I was early, so I went shopping. Ended up at the wrong end of town and had to power walk back here pretty smartish," she went on. "I thought I was going to be late."

"Ah, but you are here on time. So lovely to meet you. Can I buy you coffee, or something? I know a little spot just around the corner."

"Lovely to meet you too. I'm dying for a coffee, lead on!"

They walked along the uneven pavement in silence, each seemingly wracking their brains to find some way of continuing the conversation. The silence was easy, companionable though, neither felt awkward. It was a short walk, jinking left and right to avoid groups of people, to arrive at the cafe he was aiming for. Just as they arrived a couple stood up at one of the outdoor tables, gathered their belongings and left.

"What timing," he said.

"Oh, I find that I always get what I need," she said with an open, all encompassing smile on her face. "I have this core belief that I will always land on my feet. There's always a car parking space, or table, if I need one."

They sat down and settled themselves. The waiter came, she ordered a latte, he mirrored her, drawn in by her presence and the sheer zest for life she seemed to exude. It was intoxicating, he was smitten already. Their lattes came, carefully placed upon the wobbling table by the waiter who, in a tour de force of drink placement, did not spill one drop.

For having just met, the conversation flowed easily, though she appeared to do a lot of the talking, chattering gaily, him listening with a bemused, yet bewitched look on his face. To an observer, it must have looked like both were drawn into the moment and each other, like nothing else existed around them.

"I really didn't expect him to be so open and vulnerable," she thought. "He really is quite, quite lovely. Not at all like I thought he was going to be." A shadow briefly passed over her face, but he was too absorbed in his now empty cup to notice.

"You work at the university don't you?" she said.

"How on earth do you know that? I haven't said anything about my work because people don't understand it," he replied, surprised.

"I must confess to some internet stalking, a girl can't be too careful you know," she stated, looking him squarely in the eyes. "I hope that hasn't freaked you out?"

He paused for a moment. "Not at all, it pays to be careful," he replied. She really was a breath of fresh air. "I am a mathematical physicist. I study the fabric of the Universe and space/time and all that kind of thing," he offered. "This is the bit where you feign interest, beat a hasty retreat and I never see you again," he joked.

"Not at all. Must be interesting, though I won't pretend to understand any of it. Your cup is empty can I get you another drink? Will you indulge me? I believe this place has a varied selection of leaf teas. Can I choose one for you? A new taste experience?"

She made her way into the cafe, to the counter, and spoke to the waiter busy ringing things through the till. After a frenzy of activity, two pots of tea were produced and put on a tray along with cups and a small jug of what, he presumed, was milk. The waiter signalled his intent to carry the tray out for her, but she gesticulated, clearly indicating she was quite capable of doing it herself.

"Independent" he thought. It was what he had picked up from the conversation so far. A fiercely independent woman used to looking after herself.

He was disturbed as the old man at the next table pushed his metal chair back with a rattle and stood up. He looked back as she placed the tray down.

"Thank you," he said, half rising.

" My pleasure," she said, but she sounded a little sad, maybe a little regretful. "This is a special blend. I hope you like it, I was really chuffed when I saw they had it. It should be most relaxing and flavourful."

He lifted the lid on the one-person pot and sniffed at the vapour that rose.

"It smells very, umm, I don't know what?" he said.

The teacup was upside down on its saucer on the tray. He righted it, lifted the pot and swirled it around, then poured the golden liquid from the pot, leaving only a little space for milk, which he duly added from the jug. He sipped the tea. It was so hot. The liquid hit his tongue and his taste buds exploded. Such a riot of taste, sweetness, citrus, traces of honey.

"Quite extraordinary," he said, lifting his eyes to hers, smiling. Her eyes looked concerned, wistful.

"Is anything the matter?" he said.

"I will try and answer all your questions in the time we have left. Not the questions about me, but the big ones.

“I didn't expect you to be so lovable Jeremy, this makes this so very hard.

“Yes, you are absolutely correct Jeremy. Time travel is entirely possible. In the authorised timeline, a physicist will make a breakthrough in 2098 that will open the door to it. In this rogue timeline, you will make that same discovery next year, far too early for mankind. You really are quite brilliant, you know. Such a pity. Your work will be subverted by evil men, who will use it to cause mayhem and start a war. Millions will die. We can't let that happen. We can’t stop them, too many variables, too complicated. But we can stop you. I really am sorry.

“That warm feeling is a neuro-toxin, undetectable to science now. You are quite paralysed, you can't feel a thing, which is a mercy. You will stop breathing very shortly. I am so sorry Jeremy. I could have loved you I think."

He seemed to sit, quite still, transfixed, as she rose, gathered her things, shuffled around the table, kissed him tenderly on the cheek and left. It was some time before the waiter discovered he was quite, quite dead.