A St Paddy night out

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I was to spend Saint Patrick's day in the office in Edinburgh it was one of those rare and life changing occasions when I was going to do something else other than a takeaway and four hotel walls for the evening.  I got a phone call from Karen asking what time I was going to meet her. She said "Better make it 6-ish, as I'm not feeling too great, but I am still coming! I'll not have to book a table."

I left work, headed to the Council offices, made my way up in the lift into the office and headed to her closed abode where she was sat on her own, with the cleaners vacuuming around her. I followed her back in my car to her flat. It was an area that I hadn't visited before. It had a large art deco clock that we passed very close to the flat. Edinburgh was full of these little areas, that were still classed as Edinburgh. Karen's boyfriend's flat was beautiful. It was stone faced which looked onto what I imagined in days gone by, had been a small green or some village stocks. It was probably where all the community met or gossiped. I stood in front of a large pane of glass looking over houses and watching people and cars. I caught a dappled reflection of myself with flashes of blue and turned, passing time to survey the living room. I cricked my neck to look above;  my eyes traced the curves of a high corniced ceiling and a modest ceiling rose with a metal chandelier hanging austerely from its chained cable. Thick lined jacquard curtains were suspended by a small tree trunk of a wooden pole. My feet balanced over the cracks on what had become fashionably stripped back floorboards, which had been smothered in a thicky glossy coating. Their nailheads protruded at angles that were never meant to be on display. A centrepiece of the fireplace was the room's focal point as well as being flanked by an inlaid bookshelf. It had been overpainted over the years with heavy gloss. I envied Karen this flat. I wanted to own a flat like that. The street was lined with austere black railings. 


Historically the name canonmills came from the Augustinian canons who resided at the abbey at Holyrood. The flat was directly above shops. It would have had mills dotted to grind corn at one time. Now it was a busy thoroughfair with a very unglamorous petrol station. But it would be a central place to live. 

Karen dropped things off, "have a seat" she hollered from behind the door and I sat comfortably on a very long but comfortable brown sofa. I heard Karen frantically get changed with the objective of dropping off her wearing day, including her car and I drove up with her directing where to go and park. We ordered two pizzas. It was washed down with a bottle of wine (I was driving so only had a small glass) and it relaxed us both.

"So where are you going on holiday Karen?" I took a bite of my Mushroom pizza.
"Well we've booked to go to Crete in May."
I munched on a slice, then asked, "Have you been before?" I'm not very comfortable eating with people like this, but it was getting better as I did this job, as well as helping to combat my shyness.
"No", she replied, "I've only really been to Spain and Tenerife."
"I've never been to either but I have been to Crete." I stated.
"Did you have a good holiday there? How long ago was it when you were there?"
"Well," I started, "I have had a penfriend in Greece since I was 15 and he invited me over with him for a holiday. I didn't want to outstay my welcome so I had gone to Crete for a few days,  then to Athens for a few days in the north in a place called Halkidiki for the rest of the time."
Karen replied "That must have been really odd, if you'd only written to each other!" as she put a folk loaded with Pizza and slurped from her glass. I told her about my journey back and being robbed. I continued, "They really wanted to have someone to teach their son English and insisted on paying for everything which was a bit uncomfortable. But I got on very well and they made me feel like a member of the family, so it was really surprisingly easy. Crete is beautiful. I travelled by bus around the whole island and it's so accessible that way. Where have you booked for, can you remember?"

The Summer of '93Nơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ