Not long after I got divorced, I attended an awards ceremony with a couple of colleagues for a company we had helped in the logistics industry. It was held in a central London hotel and was a black tie affair, so we were dressed up to the nines. I’ll admit even I had scrubbed you quite decent in a glam dress, makeup, nails, the whole works.

We were seated at a table with about eight other people from the company we dealt with, but to be honest, I found the whole evening boring discussing work and business.

When it finally finished, I was standing at the bar waiting to get served when a woman came up and stood next to me.

“Thank Christ, that’s finished. You looked as bored as I was in there. These events are so dull, but I’m afraid we must suffer them. I’m Lorraine, by the way.”

“Hello Lorraine, I’m Amanda. Pleased to meet you. Yes, I could barely keep my eyes open at one point.”

“I was sitting at a table to the side of you and found it amusing watching you trying to keep a semblance of interest in the evening.”

I felt embarrassed that I had made it obvious I was bored. “Oh god, did anyone notice? The firm pays my company a lot for help and advice. I’d hate to have upset them.”

Lorraine laughed and said, “Don’t worry, most guys here are only concerned with getting pissed and trying to get in either yours or the young waitresses' knickers. What would you like to drink?”

We had a drink together and got in quite well together. At the end of the evening, we swapped business cards and agreed that we should go out for a meal one evening.

In the taxi home, I looked at Lorraine’s card. It read Lorraine Murphy. Senior Logistics Manager. Europe/World Division. The company she worked for was possibly the biggest in the world at moving things around the world.

The following day after getting into work, I dashed a quick email off to Lorraine, thanking her for the drink. She replied almost instantly, thanking me for a delightful evening. She also suggested maybe lunch one day soon.

I was happy to agree and would email her a couple of convenient dates asap.

A couple of days later, an email from Lorraine dropped into my inbox asking if I was free on Thursday evening. She had booked a table for six thirty at a restaurant in Mayfair that she had been to recently and thought was fab. She said she would meet me straight from work at the restaurant.

Thursday was a busy day, and after finally logging off, my laptop just had enough time for a quick shower at work and changed into a floral summer dress and a pair of boots. My friend Josie was impressed.

“Who is he, then? A hunky twenty-something you met at the gym? That’s how you usually meet them.”

“Stop it; that’s not true. I don’t pick guys up at the gym,” I defended myself, knowing full well it was precisely how I met them. “It’s a girl I met at that boring awards thing last week. She was super fascinating to talk to.”

“Well, have fun anyway.”

I arrived just before six thirty and went in. Lorraine wasn’t there yet, but the waiter showed me to our table. Lorraine finally came ten minutes late, gushing apologies. “I’m sorry, bloody parking around here is a nightmare. Have you ordered?

“No, I’ll just have a glass of water,” I said, pointing at my glass.

She looked around and called out to the waiter. “Simone, can we have a bottle of the house white and the menus, please?”

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Bloody busy, the season starts soon, and the office is like a madhouse.”

“The season? What’s that?”

“It's the new Formula 1 season, and our firm transports all the teams' cars worldwide; it’s like trying to organize the D.Day landings every couple of weeks.”

“Sounds super intense and stressful.”

“It is, but I’ve been doing it for so long I don’t even notice half the worry and stress now”.

The waiter brought the wine and opened the bottle. It was fabulous. He poured two glasses. We opened the menus, and I gasped when I saw the prices. I’m comfortably off and can afford most things I want, but these prices were on another level.

“I can recommend the Lobster ravioli. It’s divine”.

I looked at the price, which was probably twice my hourly rate. We both chose the ravioli and began to chat.

“That’s a nice dress, a lovely colour,” Lorraine commented.

“Thanks. I just threw it on at work before getting here.”

I looked at Lorraine’s outfit, an expensive cream suit and matching stilettos. She looked stunning, and I told her so.

“Thanks, but I’ve been in this suit since breakfast this morning and haven’t had much chance to change.”

She looked immaculate, and I told her so. Our meals arrived, and we tucked into the delicious ravioli; she was right. they were amazing. We talked about our jobs and interests until Lorraine finally asked me, “What’s your life story, then?"

“Mine is a little crazy. I was a wild child after my father left, and my mother died when I was ten. I lived with my grandparents, but by the time I Ieft for university I was uncontrollable, and they left me alone, more or less.”

“I tried all things teenagers do, it was a crazy period. Despite all that and much more, I walked away from school with many GCSEs, much to the teacher's annoyance. I seemed to have a knack for remembering stuff and being able to write it all down. I played truant a lot and didn’t take anything too seriously. Oh, and I had an abortion at sixteen."

Lorraine nearly spat the wine out of her mouth at this revelation.

“WHAT!” She gasped. “An abortion? How the hell did that happen?”

“I fell for a married guy. He was twenty-seven, married with a two-year-old baby. They had moved into the house behind ours, and one day I caught him watching me sunbathing in my bikini. He was working on the roof of his shed and was admiring the view. I casually opened my legs, giving him a glimpse. A few weeks later, he asked me out on a date, and we ended up having sex on the first date. We continued having sex in his car or outdoors, even in his shed when his wife was home; she never went near the shed, so it was a reasonably safe place to meet.”

Lorraine had listened with a shocked look as I told her all this. “That’s unbelievable. He took advantage of you!”

“No, I wanted him; he was gorgeous, and the sex was amazing.”

Lorraine interrupted me, “Hold on. I need the bathroom.”

She returned and I asked her about her life.

“Well I’m divorced I have two kids and I am also gay!! I always knew I was gay but I wanted kids so much I accepted his proposal of marriage.”

”And did he know you were gay?” I asked.

“I played the dutiful wife for ten years with him, don’t get me wrong the sex was good but I was always thing of girls when we did it. Eventually, I asked for a divorce and we split up eight years ago.”

The waiter arrived and asked if we wanted coffee; Lorraine declined and suggested we have a nightcap at her flat, a few minutes away.

Lorraine made coffee, and we sat on her sofa chatting about this and that until Lorraine leaned over and kissed me. I backed away, a little shocked. Lorraine, pulled back, apologising for being so forward.

“No,” I said, “it was nice.” We kissed again, and this time, a tingle of excitement ran through me.

“Would you like to stay tonight?”

I knew what she meant, and guessed where this was leading, but as the butterflies rose in my stomach I asked myself if it was where wanted to go!!