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”He laughed. “I don’t know mine either from memory. Is your phone handy?” He asked as he took his own out of his pocket.Dawn removed it from her handbag. “Ring this number,” he told her before reciting from his system details.Dawn rang and moments later his mobile rang. “There, we both have each other’s number now,” he said as he ended his call and put his phone away.His gaze fell upon her face again before looking her up and down once more. “Well, thank you for our conversation. I would like to speak further with you sometime perhaps over a coffee.”She smiled and nodded not knowing what to say. “I’ll give you a ring sometime. Are there... are there any times during the day when you are free?”“I... I er... I supply teach, but I do have Tuesday afternoon free next week.”He smiled again. “I’ll give you a call and arrange something then,” he replied as he turned away.Dawn stood there for a few minutes stunned by their conversation and the realisation about what had just taken place. She. The single glass of red wine, a red zinfandel, sat on the table before her. Occasionally she would raise it to her lips and savour the deep richness of its flavour. Like the wine Lyndsay had allowed herself to develop into who she was rather than become available too early, had matured from through a rose to a full red as it were.There was a sound behind her and she felt someone moving closer. But it was now noon and the pub tables were starting to fill for the lunchtime rush. A bottle of Red Zinfandel appeared on the table beside her glass, a tall glass of clear liquid was placed on the table across from it. The man who had brought the drinks slid between her table and the next and took the seat facing her. Gently placing a soft brown leather briefcase, which he had just unslung from his shoulder, on the table. He looked across at her as if appraising her. "You are prettier than in the photos I saw, less sweaty and used of course, but definitely prettier" He exclaimed. She smiled.
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