11 Tales of a Real Life Romance - Chapter 23

'So how did it go?' Jeremy Kyle enquired on the Monday morning. He was referring to my night in the hotel with Hands the weekend prior.

'Not good unfortunately,' I replied.

'It's your own fault,' Jeremy said after I'd recounted the sorry tale. 'What did you expect to happen after you told him that? No man would want to hear that so early into a relationship.'

I should add that JK was presenting the programme I was working on. I wasn't appearing on his show. Things weren't that bad. Or were they?

I'd been giddy with excitement when Hands had picked me up on the Saturday afternoon. Despite the fact that I spent the first six months of my life in a hotel that my dad was managing and for the last four summers I've done a job making videos of hotels abroad for tour company websites (by my reckoning I've probably filmed at at least 300) and I've practically been living in a hotel for three years (or above one anyway) you would imagine that going to a hotel was the last thing I wanted to do. It wasn't. I love hotels. Plus the fact that I would be sharing the experience with a certain large-handed man was adding to the appeal.

We arrived and followed the unwritten obligatory procedure that is required after checking in to your room...in that we opened drawers and wardrobes to see how much space there was, even though we weren't going to be using them. We switched on the TV to see how many channels there were, even though we wouldn't be watching it. We exclaimed at the prices for room service, even though we wouldn't be ordering from it. We lay on the bed to test how comfortable it was, even though we weren't intending to do much sleeping in it...er...I mean even though it wouldn't really matter for one night.

Law of hotels completed we got ready and went out for dinner. We found a lovely little family-run Italian nearby, the kind of place where you discover that you've been pronouncing bruschetta wrongly when they read back over your order. The kind of place where the staff are so attentive that by the time you leave you are ciao, ciaoing and kissing like old friends.

A while later and on our garlicky main courses (we'd discussed it and decided it was ok seeing as we'd only be kissing each other) for some reason I felt it was time to tell Hands that I was a blogger.

I've no idea why I decided then was my opportune moment. It may have had something to do with the Prosecco I was drinking. Who knows. I'd made my mind up though and went for it.

'There's something I need to tell you about myself...'

His face dropped and I could see various options flitting through his head. I felt sure that they would all be worse than what I was about to tell him. Wouldn't they?

18 Tales of a Real Life Romance - Chapter 22

Now where was I?

Ah yes. In chapter 21 I'd hoped surmised that Hands and I were in a Relationship because we'd been ticking lots of the 'Things you do in a Relationship' boxes. Things like arguing and having him cook for you. I was just about to tell you about us putting a tick beside 'meeting the parents' when all manner of things got in the way of me blogging. If anyone is still reading then this is what happened.


Meeting the Parents

By 'parents', I mean concierges. And by 'met', I mean, 'encountered'.

His arrival to my apartment had been pain-free. I'd buzzed him in and up he'd come. The concierges probably thought he was just a regular good-looking guy on his way to visit some lucky lady. I knew things would be different on the way out though, when they'd put two and two together (or in this case, one and one) and they'd realise that the fortunate girl was me.

I wondered how on earth I could sneak a 6ft 5 bloke past without them noticing. I contemplated asking Hands to go commando (and crawl along the floor like a soldier, as opposed to not wearing underwear) but realised that was a ridiculous idea. He'd end up filthy and I didn't want people to think I was taking a tramp out for dinner. Instead as we exited the lift, I whispered to Hands that as we walk past the front desk he was to keep looking straight ahead and leave the rest to me.

I thought we were doing quite a good job. We'd both got the nonchalant walk down pat despite having no time to practice. I trilled 'Hi' as we passed so as not to arouse suspicion. We'd almost made it out the door when...

'Er, wait a minute...'

Damn.

'Where do you think you're going?'

'I'm going out,' I replied, feeling like a teenager.

'But it's a Saturday night...you're not allowed out.'

'Says who?' I replied starting to sound a bit petulant. I was at the risk of being grounded.

'Says you!' they laughed.

They were referring to a comment I'd once made when I'd come home from an evening out and announced that I was too old for Saturday nights and they were only for young people. Young people who don't mind music so loud that you can't hold a conversation. Young people with stamina for lots of queues (the queue to get in, the four people deep queue at the bar to get a drink, the queue for the ladies etc, etc.) Young people who don't feel the cold and therefore don't need to wear jackets.

I then said that if they ever saw me heading out on a Saturday they were to stop me and tell me no.

Obviously I didn't mean it. I'd only said it once. I was a bit tipsy at the time so it really shouldn't count.

It's not like they remember all my drunken chat. They've never mentioned the time pre-Hands that I asked if they'd find me a boyfriend and I insisted the only criteria I had was that he be able to drive and swim. They've never mentioned that. And in actual fact they should have mentioned that. They should have taken me aside for a little word the next morning and said that a nice girl like me could aim a bit higher when searching for a man. Perhaps look for someone that can ride as well.

'We're only going for dinner' I said, as if that would make it better and suddenly they'd forget it was Saturday.

'It's still Saturday night,' they said.

'I won't be late.'

'Ok we'll let you go just this once. Back before midnight though or we'll be locking the doors,' they jested.

At least I think they were joking. I didn't find out because despite having a lovely meal Hands and I were more interested in each other than our surroundings, and decided we'd be as well going back to mine.

'Look I've brought her back before she turned into a pumpkin!' Hands announced to the concierges as we entered the Tower at 11:45.

'Well done lad. You can come again.'


The Doubts Start

My concierges may have approved of Hands, but I was starting to have some concerns. I may have given the impression that everything was going hunky dory with my hunk, but there was an issue. One big issue. I'd tried to ignore it, but when I went to work on the army base during the week it became more and more obvious, and more and more of a problem.

Hands doesn't give good phone.

Our texts were great, our emails were even better and we were fluent in body language but our phone conversations were below par. We just didn't seem to know what to say to each other. I know you could say that it takes two to maketh a conversation and I should shoulder some of the blame for our crap chat, but I've never had this problem with anyone else. I think I'm quite good on the phone. I've certainly had lots of experience over the years. Once I even did it for five hours with an ex. No, it must be all Hands' fault.

During one such chat (for want of a better word) I decided to fill an awkward silence by recounting an incident that I'd had earlier in the day. I told Hands about how when I'd gone to take the radio mic off a soldier we'd been filming, he'd obviously got confused about why I was moving in to his personal space and kissed me. I couldn't stop laughing as I explained how embarrassed I was, and how embarrassed the guy was when he realised the real reason that I'd approached him.

Hands reaction? 'Oh right.'

'That's all he said?' Taggart asked me. I'd made some excuse to Hands to get off the phone and had called her straight away for her opinion.

'Yes,' I said miserably. 'Maybe we just aren't meant to be? Everything else is great but it's just hard work on the phone. And we clearly have a different sense of humour. He didn't even find that story slightly funny.'

'I thought it was hilarious!' Taggart said. She had. She'd been practically wetting herself when I told her. Unfortunately it wasn't Taggart that I wanted to bump uglies with.

The next day I had an email from Hands.

Sometimes I find your Scottish accent really difficult to understand, particularly when you are laughing. I have no idea what that story was you were trying to tell me last night! We obviously need to spend more time together to practice so I thought we could go away this weekend. I've already booked us in to a hotel. You just need to say yes!

What on earth had I been worried about? Talking on the phone is overrated anyway right?

Yes, Hands! Yes! Yes! Yes!

13 Tales of a Real Life Romance - Chapter 21

Four dates, almost four months and lots of analysing of texts later, it seemed that Hands and I were finally in a...dare I say it?...relationship.

I couldn't be a hundred percent sure having not been in one for a while, but it certainly resembled one. For starters it was automatically assumed that we'd see each other every weekend. Then all the relationshippy things started happening. You know the things I mean...


The First Argument

Hands and I had got into a routine of taking it in turns to plan our dates. Number five was down to me and I decided that we'd go for dinner in my favourite place in Manchester. The only problem was that we couldn't get booked in until 9.30. I phoned Hands to check that he was ok with that, stressing that I loved the restaurant and it would be worth the wait. He confirmed that it was fine.

Until twenty minutes later he texted to say that he was going to look into other options.

'What?!' Is what I thought.

Firstly what was he doing trying to muscle in on my turn for date arranging? Away and cut someone else's grass.

Plus, what part of 'I hope you're ok with eating late cause it's my favourite restaurant' did he not understand?

I couldn't believe our first argument was about an eating venue. To be fair, Hands didn't actually know that we were having an argument. I didn't tell him. I just seethed internally until he called a while later to say that I was to ignore his last text and we'd stick to the plans that I'd made.

I asked why he'd even thought about making alternative arrangements. Turned out his friend Kev wasn't a fan of the restaurant and reckoned that we should go somewhere else.

Which was weird cause I wasn't aware that I'd invited Kev on the date. Was Kev's opinion of the date that I'd arranged to my favourite place relevant? Hands obviously thought so.

I decided to pretend Hands hadn't said anything. It was far too soon for argument number two...


The First Time You Cook For Each Other

Or rather Hands cooked for me. He did have amends to make for the last rendezvous after all. Plus I didn't want to cook for him. I liked him too much to risk killing him.

Even if I had been contemplating being a brave soldier and making him my speciality dish, crisp butty Thai curry, I lost all confidence after seeing the effort the Hands put in to making dinner for me. The actual cooking, the way he'd set the table and he'd even emailed me a menu that morning.

Starter

Pan seared scallops on a tomato, olive and herb salsa
Accompanied by a 2009 Chardonnay

Main

Moroccan lamb served with tzatziki and sliced pitta
Accompanied by a 2008 Shiraz

Dessert

Me

It was all as good as it sounded. The dessert was my favourite. Things were back on track. Any arguments (what argument?) were forgotten. It was time for the next Relationship step. It was time to meet the parents...

14 Tales of a Real Life Romance - Chapter 20

I decided that it was time to come clean to Hands.

In actual fact there was no right time to do it, but I knew the longer I left it, the worse it would be when I did. He deserved to know the truth.

Plus, it wasn't fair that other people knew and he didn't. I probably should have told him straight away, but as you know I really liked him and didn't want to risk losing him.

I tried to convince myself that perhaps he'd be ok about it? After all my friends were really supportive when I told them. I'd also told other guys and they'd reacted better than I'd expected.

I thought about it long and hard. I discussed it at length with various people who had been through the same dilemma.

The advice I received was mixed. Some said it wasn't his business. Others said honesty was the best policy. Some pointed out that he wasn't getting to know the real me, while others said it was only a small part of who I am anyway.

I decided that I couldn't lie anymore. If this relationship was going to go anywhere, I had to open up. I was going to have to reveal my dirty secret.

I had to tell Hands that I'm a blogger.

It turned out that making the decision to reveal all wasn't the most difficult part, finding the opportunity to do so was. Date 4 had been so great that we were keen to get together as soon as possible. In Normal Land that would be easy. You'd discuss when you were both free and arrange the next date accordingly. In Weird World where I live, it was a bit more difficult. I didn't know when I was available, because I didn't know when and where my next job would be taking place. It is part of what I love about being a freelancer in TV but it doesn't half make it challenging to plan anything and can cause havoc with my social life.

I just trusted that what would be, would be. And what appeared to happen was that Cupid noticed that I might go away again and was pretty pissed off that all the hard work he'd put in to introducing Hands and I may be in vain. He called up The Universe and had a word about arranging me to stay in the UK. The Universe agreed to help and said that I'd done enough gadding about for a while anyway and it was time for me to concentrate on my love, rather than work, life.

At least that is what I think happened and explains why I got a phone call out of the blue from ITV saying they were crewing up for a TV programme, that I'd been recommended and could I start the following week? They said I'd have to stay on location as filming would take place a couple of hours away from Manchester, but I could home every weekend.

I was over the moon!

I excitedly phoned Hands and we quickly arranged Date 5 for Saturday night. He then asked me what the job was. I explained that it was a documentary about a military driving school...

'Wait, you are filming on an army base?'

'Yep...'

'And you are going to be staying at the army base?'

'Yeah....in the Officer's Mess...'

'You are going to be surrounded by men for the next two months?'

'Er yeah I suppose I am.'

'I'm happy for you, but if we make it through this it'll be a miracle.'

Oh. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. I decided not to mention the blogging for the time being. Keeping schtum a little longer wouldn't hurt would it?

23 Tales of a a Real Life Romance - Chapter 19

I felt quite nervous as I travelled on the train over to where Hands lives.

[Cue: cheering, clapping and waving of flags and banners that say things like 'Good luck Rapunzel!' and 'Hands is hot!']

Yes I'd decided to go for Option A. It was only Date 4, but it had taken months for us to get to that stage so we could hardly be accused of rushing things. Plus the Goddess had gone away to work elsewhere and I had a new flatmate who'd invited his girlfriend round that night. I wasn't keen on Option C - Being a Gooseberry, so was quite happy to make myself scarce.

It didn't take me long to decide that I'd made the right decision. If I'd played it safe and chosen the second suggestion It might have taken a few more months before I found out that...

1. Hands is very tidy

Extremely so. It was the first thing I noticed as I entered his abode. Obviously he would have cleaned before my arrival but it seemed like he'd had Monica Geller round helping. My flat has also been that clean, but that was in the first hour I moved into it, before my suitcases had haemorrhaged my possessions all over it.

(A new friend has started reading my blog and has remarked that I write about things she wouldn't even dream of admitting to her best mates. I've decided that she has a point and so will now not be revealing my innermost feelings for fear of being mocked or considered odd. So I won't be telling you that I panicked when I realised how different Hands and I were and wondered how we'd cope if we ever lived together. It would be wrong to even have had a thought like that anyway....it was only Date 4 after all...What do you take me for?...Some kind of weirdo...No, no I was enjoying taking it slow and having months between dates and hadn't even thought about our next one, never mind The Future.)

2. Hands is very handy

As he took me on a tour he pointed out all the home improvements he'd done himself, like rooms he'd decorated, things he'd made, under-floor heating he'd installed. I was impressed. Hands will make someone a lovely husband one day. Obviously I didn't think about that someone being me. (See above for proof)

3. Hands is a proper adult

He has grown-up things in his house. I asked for a coffee when I first arrived and he made me one from a coffee machine with a nice cup and saucer and a biscuit. I normally drink the builders version from one side of a Dirty Dancing mug. It has to be from one side cause the other is so chipped it is dangerous. I suppose I have a coffee machine as well. It's just that it's five minutes walk away in Starbucks.

4. Hands has other big things besides his hands

Hands has a massive one. I've never seen one as big. Except once when I stayed in a hotel. I suppose being 6 foot 5 it's only reasonable that he'd have one as long. I was still surprised though and couldn't help but turn into Little Red Riding Hood.

'My what a big bed you have!'

'All the better to sleep with you in.'

He didn't actually say that. I'd fore-warned him that wouldn't be happening and he'd already shown me the room I'd be staying in. Shame really as I could easily have shared the bed with him without us even seeing each other, it was so vast.

5. Hands is very thoughtful

He'd downloaded songs onto his iPod that he knew I'd love, even though it could have opened him up to ridicule if any of his friends had ever seen them. I'm talking cheesy eighties pop. Music he doesn't even like himself.

He also talked about how much he helps the old woman that lives next door by doing her shopping and the like, and how he'd just bought her a jar opener in case he wasn't around when she needed him. It's an amazing coincidence but I have something in common with his elderly neighbour, as I'm also the proud owner of such a utensil. My mum popped one into my stocking at Christmas after she heard I'd had to take a jar of honey down to the concierge so I could make a hot toddy. My concierge was fine about it even though that's not in his job description. He had remarked on the fact that I didn't need help opening the whisky though.

6. Hands is smooth

I knew this fact anyway but I hadn't been on the receiving end of his charm for a few weeks. It started as soon as I got in the car when he collected me from the train station and he said that when he saw me he did a little 'Yes!' out loud because I was lovelier than he'd remembered.

I melted.

Yes there was no denying that Hands knows how to flirt. How much was just patter and how much was genuine? I wasn't sure.

Out in a bar that evening, Hands returned from the toilet and asked if he could join me while my boyfriend was away. I played along with his little game and said he could but warned him that my bloke was big and might want to fight him. He reckoned that he'd already seen him and knew he could take him on in an arm-wrestle.

I really did my very best not to analyse this statement and accept it as role-playing fun. Honestly. But I just couldn't stop myself wondering whether Hands had implied that I was his girlfriend...

24 Tales of a Real Life Romance - Chapter 18

I managed to forget about the fact that I'd felt rejected by Hands. It was actually quite easy to do so. Probably because he kept texting me while I was away on my trip and his messages were usually either instructions to 'hurry up and get back home', telling me that I was in his thoughts 'far too regularly', or that my return flight 'couldn't come soon enough'.

Call me Miss Hopeful, but I thought Hands seemed to be Mr Interested?

A couple of days before I was due home I decided to phone the man in question. Partly because I wanted to hear his voice, and partly cause I wanted to brag to someone (anyone) that I'd finished work for the day and was lying on the beach.

He said he'd been thinking about Date 4 and wondered if I fancied a night out in his neck of the woods that weekend. Nice idea you might think, but I wasn't keen. It would have meant spending the night at his home. I just wasn't sure that I was ready for that.

Oh no, by 'that' I don't mean that. I definitely wasn't ready for that. I liked Hands far too much to be sleeping with him on our fourth date. Plus he'd already said that he'd made up the bed in the spare room ready for if I accepted his invitation, so I was confident that he wasn't counting his chickens about getting his oats.

No, what I wasn't sure about was the idea of getting ready for a night out with Hands, in front of Hands. Wasn't it too soon for that? It was only date 4 after all. Too early to be discussing who was going to use the bathroom first. And I'd probably miss out one of the best bits about the early days of a relationship, which as we all know, is when the guy makes a conscious effort to tell you that you look nice. Hands was unlikely to compliment me after seeing the work that goes in to looking 'natural.' I'd probably end up trying to force the issue by doing a twirl and saying 'ta-da!'

Obviously I couldn't discuss any of this with Hands. Instead I just mumbled something about thinking it over and suggesting that he send me an itinerary.

Yep an itinerary. I mean really. What on earth was I thinking? Sometimes I could do with having a stern word with myself. The only good thing was that it wasn't going to be necessary to mull over Hands' invitation. I was pretty sure that he was unlikely to get back in touch with the girl that had asked him for an agenda. For a date.

An hour or so later I received an email.


DATE 4 ITINERARY

Option A.... Sample the delights (well there are worse places - just!) of St Helens?

Dress code - smart casual (anything I've seen so far would be perfect, including comfortable heels for as regular as you'd like kiss access!)

Pick up - 7.30 prompt at your address. Alternatively catch a regular as clockwork, comfortable train from a station of your choice in Manchester city centre to Newton Le Willows where your car and driver will be waiting to collect you and transport you to your next destination..... The benefit of this option would be an earlier ETA..... Say 6pm pick up from the station?

Eat in or out?.... Including several drinks of your choice both at My Abode and St Helens town centre (a taxi will be arranged for this short journey.)

Sample the delights of date 4 in the safe hands of your Chauffeur/Date/Organiser and if the mood takes you - dance partner?

Return to your accommodation at a time of your choice (with your date!)and enjoy a very comfortable stay with the use of all available amenities.

The option of breakfast at either your chosen accommodation or alternatively in the grounds of a fairly nearby farm sampling their local produce is also available? - weather permitting!

Return to your home address (chauffeur driven by your date) at a time to suit you.

If at any point your date can make your evening/night/morning/lunch any more enjoyable then just let him know and he will do his best to accommodate your request!

Or

Option B..... Invite your date to Manchester (where you always go out) for a night on the tiles - well at least 4 hours until your date has to get the train home.

........The choice is yours! Please respond to any option which features a question mark. I look forward to hearing from you very soon xxx

22 Tales of a Real Life Romance - Chapter 17

Now where were we?

Ah yes. I'd had three dates with the lovely Hands. Date four seemed to be on the cards but there was going to have to be a delay on it as I was heading off to sunnier climes to do a filming job for a few weeks. I suggested that Hands and I meet for a quick drink before I go. He suggested that we didn't bother (or words to that effect.)

Me and thee then analysed what his rejection of my offer meant for the Rapunzel and Hands romance. Some said it didn't mean anything. Some questioned, just as my Bro had previously, whether Hands had a back-bone. Some didn't know what to think. One guy contacted me to say it was clear that I was just desperate for a boyfriend and asked why I was so scared of being alone. Another tweeted to say that my blog looked far too boring for him to waste his time reading, so sadly I'll never know his opinion. (I suppose I should just feel honoured that he took the time out of his busy schedule to let me know that though?!)

As you know, I personally didn't think it was a good sign. I'd only suggested one drink before his night out with the boys, not that he see me instead. I couldn't help but feel rejected that he'd said no. And his excuse that he'd find it hard to say goodbye to me if we met up for half an hour, wasn't holding any sway with me. I mean I like to think that I'm good company but I'm under no illusions that I'm that good!

What could I do about it though? I decided that the best plan of action would be to do absolutely nada. If he wasn't interested, he wasn't interested. I couldn't force him to be! Anyway I had a trip to get organised for.

The day of my flight I got up bright and early to do some last-minute packing. I switched on my phone.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Seems I'd received a few texts. The first one was just after midnight...

Round at Gav's. Me and the boys have been counting the floors in the Tower. Looks like the lights are out in your apartment! Sleep well x

Stalker! Was my first thought.

My second thought was about the fact that Hands may have chosen not to meet up, yet I was still clearly on his mind...

My third thought was a feeling of smugness about the second thought.

My fourth thought was...eh? Wait a minute! Hands had told me where his friend Gav lives and it overlooks the complete opposite side of my Tower and therefore would be impossible to see my apartment. Even with really powerful binoculars.

The second text had been sent an hour later...

Going to miss you a bit x

The third was sent at 3am...

Good night x

Then another one ten minutes later...

By the way I love your name.

Curiouser and curiouser. What did it all mean? Four texts were a lot of texts to send to someone that you weren't fussed for. Four texts too many, you could argue. Maybe he was keener that I thought? But then they were clearly drunken messages and everyone knows that they don't count. Hmmm.

I continued getting ready and did my best to focus on what bikinis to take rather than the workings of the mind of Hands. While in the taxi on the way to the airport my phone beeped again...

Sorry about the texts. Was on the truth drug. Have a good trip, don't work too hard and make sure you plan in some serious Hands time for when you get back! x

I don't think I'll ever understand men.