of Christmas shopping dissolved from my mind as I closed my eyes and gave in to the unexpected gift of the stranger’s lips on mine.
It was almost perfect. Almost. But not quite. Because, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone: swallowed up by the heaving, unyielding mass of shoppers. I remained frozen to the spot for what felt like an age, dazed yet elated, my heart beating wildly.
And then, from somewhere deep in the recesses of my consciousness, a thought began to push urgently through the swirling mass of emotions.
Go after him!
‘Wait! Come back!’
I looked in the direction I thought he had gone, but there was no sign of him. Nevertheless, I began to shove my way through the crowds, rising on tiptoes to scan across the sea of bobbing bodies for a glimpse of his hair or his scarf as I ran. Shoppers tutted as I pushed past, but I was a woman on a mission and oblivious to their disapproving glances.
As I neared the end of the line of wooden stalls, I suddenly caught a glimpse of russet-brown hair, hurrying ahead of me. Heart thumping hard against my chest, I pressed on, gaining on him. Soon, I was within touching distance, so I reached out my hand and tapped his shoulder.
‘Hey, you can’t just kiss me and then leave without giving me your name,’ I said. He turned to face me … and my heart plummeted.
‘That’s one hell of a chat-up line, love,’ the older man grinned. His yellowing teeth and pockmarked skin were anything but kissable. ‘Now I don’t know about any kiss but I’m happy to oblige if you want.’
I recoiled, dropping my gaze as I backed away. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.’
‘Story of my life, chick,’ he laughed as I hurried back towards the safety of the Christmas Market stalls. Utterly deflated, I stopped and looked up at the darkening sky, heavy with snow-laden clouds. I had lost him.
How was it possible for something so amazing to happen and then disappear as quickly as it had arrived? And how stupid was I for not asking his name? At least then I would know something tangible about him. My scarf still retained traces of his cologne and my lips were tingling from our brief kiss, but that was all I had to show for an event so significant it might just have changed everything.
All I knew about him was what I could remember. To all intents and purposes, he was just another stranger existing in a sprawling metropolis – another life lived in parallel to mine, with little chance of meeting again. But when he looked into my eyes and kissed me, I felt like I had known him all my life. More than an attraction, there was a connection that resonated deeper within me than any other. That one single meeting in a lifetime of acquaintance was enough to alter my life irrevocably.
And that’s why I had to find him.
‘He’s a psycho.’
‘He is not.’
‘Or some kind of twisted stalker …’
‘Wren, he wasn’t like that.’
‘How do you know? He could have been walking round kissing random female shoppers all day! He could get his sick, evil kicks out of doing that …’ Wren’s cocoa brown eyes opened wide. ‘Maybe he kisses the women he’s about to murder in cold blood … Oh-my-giddy-life, you’ve just had a Judas kiss!’
I let out a long sigh as I sank into Wren’s oversized sofa in her chic city-centre apartment. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you about it now.’
Wren placed a concerned hand on my arm. ‘No, Rom, you were absolutely right to tell me. If only so I could stop you making a terrible mistake!’
Sometimes I wonder how I came to have a friend quite as theatrical as Wren. But then, being a drama teacher, I suppose it’s something of an occupational hazard for her.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this now, but I was still reeling from the events of the day before. In a daze, following the stranger’s hasty departure, I had stumbled to the train station in a fog of emotion and shock. Slumped in my seat, mind numb, I had called the only person who would understand. Wren has been my closest friend since primary school and she’s known Charlie almost as long as I have. Initially, she insisted that I catch a train back into the city and head straight for her home, but all I really wanted to do was to sleep. So instead she made me promise to visit her the next day.
After a restless night with images of Charlie and the gorgeous stranger interchanging in my mind, I arrived at Wren’s chic canalside apartment, just along from the elegant bars and restaurants of Brindley Place.
Eyes wide with concern, Wren had listened quietly as I relayed the events of the previous day; but as soon as I finished she launched into an impassioned commentary.
‘The way I see it, this bloke is just a diversion from the real issue – you and Charlie. I mean, come on, Rom, one minute you’re telling Charlie you love him and then you “just happen” to meet the love of your life?’
‘It doesn’t make sense, I know. But honestly, Wren, it was the most intense, amazing moment. He took my breath away …’
‘And your mind off Charlie.’
This was useless. ‘Forget I mentioned it, OK?’
Wren gave me her best impression of a serious look (which, in truth, is about as serious as engaging in a staring contest with a fluffy kitten …). ‘Oh, Rom, I’m sorry. It’s just that you have to admit it’s a bit odd. Someone you’ve never met appears out of nowhere, does the knight-in-shining-armour bit and then kisses you. What kind of crazed, maniacal freak does things like that? And if he thinks you’re so amazing, how come he didn’t stick around?’
I had been asking myself that very question ever since it happened. ‘I don’t know.’ The events of our encounter remained imprisoned behind a frustrating haze. Whatever – or whoever – had called him away had seemed import ant; but then I’d hardly had sufficient time to know anything about him, so how could I really know what was important to him? ‘That’s the problem: I have no answers. All I can say is that it was the most amazing moment I’ve ever experienced. He was … perfect.’
‘He was a nutter. Believe me, hun, you’re better off not knowing who he was. I’ve chased handsome princes before and they’ve always turned into proper fairytales.’
‘Isn’t that a good thing?’
‘No – I mean Grimm.’ Seeing my face she quickly hid her mirth. ‘Sorry, bad joke.’
I shook my head. ‘I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about him.’
‘Thank heaven you had the good sense to come here, then! Are you feeling OK now? Do you need anything?’
‘I’m fine …’
Wren snapped her fingers. ‘Tea! That’s what you need – hot, strong, sweet tea!’
