“Sounds utterly delightful,” I said. “What about you?” he asked.
I was going home, of course, to watch a television program or read a book. What else would I be doing?
“I shall return to my flat,” I said. “I think there might be a documentary about komodo dragons on BBC4 later this evening.”
He looked at his watch again, and then up at the boundless blue sky.
There was a moment of silence and then a blackbird began showing off nearby, his song so spectacular that it bordered on vulgar.
We both listened, and when I smiled at Raymond, he smiled back.
“Look, it’s far too nice a night to be sitting inside on your own.
Fancy grabbing a quick pint somewhere? I’ll need to head off in an hour or so before the offy shuts, but...”
This required careful consideration. I had not been in a public house for many years,
and Raymond could hardly be described as engaging company.
I quickly concluded, however, that it would be useful for two reasons.
Firstly, it would be good practice, as, if things went well, Johnnie Lomond would probably want to take me to a public house during one of our dates,
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