I looked at the door
I looked at the door
Solid, plain, pragmatic
It was a self-contained flat
Above a motorcycle shop
On Forest Road
A stones throw from the ponds
At Wanstead
I stood outside, in the cold
At the top of the iron stairs
For the longest time
Wondering whether to knock
Or not
It had been her mother’s idea
She worked for me
And I needed a partner
For the staff Christmas party
She said her daughter had seen me
Many times when she came into the store
And liked what she saw
Although I barely remembered
But I wasn’t really on the lookout
For a relationship
A man on his own with children
Doesn’t really have the time
Or inclination for a potential
Assignation
Neither was I desperate
But going alone would be tough
Just walking in accompanied
Would be enough
To break the ice
I gave a knock
Tentative, half-hearted
The door opened before
I could change my mind
Drink in hand
She admitted to waiting
On the other side
The sound of the car
The noise of my feet
As clear as a bell
Cast at Whitechapel
For the church at
St Mary’s-by-Bow
She was flushed
Nervous I guess
Perhaps she was as anxious as I
Which may have influenced
Her fumbled attempt
At a kiss
Hot hands around my neck
Pulling me close
I was taken by surprise
Saw a wild look on her eyes
And backed off a little
At her being so previous
Asked if we should just get on our way
Truth to tell I was shaken
The night not yet begun
My thoughts already turning
To an escape clause
I needn’t have worried
She was already half-gone
Fell asleep on a seat
After only one madcap dance
With no chance
Of any kind of first date romance
I carried her back up the steep stairs
Laid her to bed
Put another pillow under her head
To stave off the potential
For choking
The flat had a smell of burned oil
And years of roll your own smoking
I closed the door and didn’t look back
But under different circumstances
I did
In just a couple of years
When I took my kids to see their mother
And found
By some weird coincidence
Or happenstance
The new flat she had moved into
Was the very same one as the strange young thing
And then gently tucked up
In her own bed
Dead to the world
Before going home alone
To sink a very large scotch
My duty done
Both reputations still intact
It was all I could do
Not to tell my ex-wife the whole story
But we were no longer
That kind of sharing couple
So I took it away
To come back to another day
When the air was less frosty