'I think you should buy the book anyway so you're prepared when another guy comes into your life,' the shop assistant advised me, before adding, 'One that will stick around for longer.'I could have kissed her.
I might even have done so, except for the fact that Mr Lekker probably would have liked witnessing that, and he wasn't exactly my favourite person at that very moment.
This was about an hour into our 'reunion'. I'd been a nervous wreck all morning. Understandably really as I'd never felt about anyone else the way I did about him. So much so, that I even uttered some of the most ridiculous words that have ever come out of my mouth when I said to Taggart that if he proposed to me I would say yes. I was that infatuated. Well, I'd known him for five hours after all. Why waste time?
Obviously I'd made that remark in the beginning when he'd first entered my life and turned it all upside down. I wasn't so keen now that I knew he had a girlfriend. Plus there was the small issue that we hadn't actually spoken in months until he'd called out of the blue to ask if we could see each other.
What did he want? Was he going to explain things? Apologise? Maybe he'd split up with his girlfriend? I had no idea.
All the not knowing was making things very difficult when it came to choosing what to wear. Did I need a 'look at what you are missing out on' outfit? And if I did, what does one of them look like exactly? Or should I just look good, but not too good suggesting that I wasn't that bothered about him? And where is the line drawn between the two looks?
I was happy to see that he'd put as much thought into his outfit as he rounded the corner to our meeting point. He was wearing the exact same thing he'd worn the year before. Sometimes I really wish I was a guy.
I'd felt physically sick until I saw him but as soon as I did my nerves dissipated. I just couldn't believe that Mr Lekker was actually standing in front of me.
We found a quiet cafe and settled down with some coffees. He kept looking at me. Approvingly I hoped. Seems not because he then informed me that I was the same as he remembered, except that I now had purple in my hair and I didn't have it before.
Really Mr Lekker? In actual fact the purple hair was the result of going to a hairdresser in Holland that didn't speak the best English, a few years before. It had been an accident but I'd loved it and had had it ever since. It had become part of my identity and some people even referred to me as 'Purple Heid' (drunk Scottish guys mainly mind you.)
Yes, I was feeling a bit annoyed that he hadn't noticed something so important about me. What on earth had he been looking at that night?
Mind you, I couldn't have been paying that much attention either because I'm sure his teeth were nicer in my memory. As was his attitude for that matter.
The conversation flowed surprisingly easily, considering we were two strangers and one of us was pissed off with the other one.
I finally plucked up the courage to ask him what had happened and why he had stopped contacting me. I wasn't in the slightest bit impressed with his answer and told him so.
'Bloody men. Bloody Dutch men in fact. It's no wonder there is a whole book explaining how to deal with the Dutch.'
Yep, I know that as come-backs go it was extremely weak, but I was in shock. All Mr Lekker cared about on the other hand was the book I'd just mentioned.
'There is really a book about that?'
I told him there was and I'd been given a copy as I arrived to live in Holland. He didn't believe me and suggested that we go to the nearest bookshop. I wasn't really in the mood but was keen to be proved right so agreed.
After failing to find anything on the shelves, Mr Lekker approached a girl at the till. He explained that he had just met a 'lovely' girl, pointing at me, and we needed a particular book so that I could understand how to deal with him (er, that's sooo not why we are here Mr Lekker...)
She checked her computer and said she'd need to order it in which would take a couple of weeks. He replied that would be too late and he'd have gone back to Holland by then. He then turned to me and said he was sorry but he saw no point in continuing our relationship. (Never a truer word said.)
Thank God for female intuition as it was at this point the sales girl suggested I get it for the next man I met. I loved her.
Can't say I felt the same about Mr Lekker. And the reason I didn't was because when I'd asked him earlier to explain his lack of contact, his reply was that he was falling for me and he couldn't be doing that as he'd just got married.
Yep you did read that right. Married with a big, fat capital M!
And don't think for one moment that he was doing the honourable thing and meeting me to tell me all about it and apologise. Was he heck! I'm not sure he would even have mentioned it if I hadn't asked (and as his wedding ring wasn't on the normal finger I wouldn't have realised.)
His reason for meeting me was purely to try his luck again. Which became apparent as soon as he said flirtily to me that he'd never kissed anyone in a bookshop before...then winked at me!
Don't worry readers. I'd learnt my lesson - once a player, always a player. I informed him that he also wouldn't be kissing anyone in a bookshop that day either. I bade him farewell and off I went.
And that was the end of the love story Mr Lekker and Me.
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Lessons learned? Turns out I'm quite fickle and need longer than five hours to decide if someone is the perfect man for me.
Morale of the tale? If you do unwittingly find yourself as the third wheel in a relationship involving a famous man, try and ensure that he is not known in the UK so you never have to endure seeing his lying, cheating face on the cover of Heat magazine!
