You drove us out to a country pub for our first date.

‘There’s some live music on that I think you’d like,’ you said, although now I realize it was so we wouldn’t be spotted together by anyone from the university, anyone who thought what you were doing was wrong.

The place was packed, everyone swaying and singing together. You pressed your body up close behind mine, your laughing breath in my hair.

In the break I pushed through to the bar. ‘Another white wine,’ I shouted over the crowd’s noise.

Nodding, the barman shouted back: ‘And what would your father like?’

***

For those who don’t know how Friday Fictioneers works, this picture (this time supplied by Bjorn Rudberg) is our inspiration for our weekly online writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each story is only about 100 words long, so why not read a few others: click here to read some more or to join in.  And please comment below with any suggestions on mine, or just to show you’ve visited.