7pm came and went. The food was well eaten and I was by now slowly drinking a pint of Guinness. Every now and then, I would look over at the archaic clock on the wall trying to convince myself that there was a myriad of reasons she may be late and that not really wanting to meet me really was the most unlikely one.
Fortunately, the crowd was sparse and nobody noticed how slowly I was drinking. Each time the door opened I expected it to be her but it wasn’t. The hours drifted and I felt my eyes struggling to stay open.
Then I felt a hard tap on my shoulder.
“You waited for me.”
I opened my eyes and there she was. Concern etched on her face.
“Sorry, I was really delayed. Gran is not too well at all at the moment. She was really upset and I couldn’t leave her.”
“I understand. Very happy to see you, even if it’s late. They should still be serving.”
But the bar was desolate with nobody else there. Just a deathly silence. The archaic clock was telling him it was past eleven thirty and time to go.
“I think they have stopped serving. Look I’ll be down again soon and come just for you this time.”
With that, she leaned down and we kissed. It was soft and wet, and I never wanted it to end.
Then she said, “Look, I better go. It’s so late. But I will visit you soon promise.”
She placed her hand on my shoulder and then she was gone.
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