With a Little Help from My Friends

I got to know Brenda through a dating app. She had recently been divorced and was lonely. I wanted someone who wanted me. We talked on the phone, and exchanged photos, texts and emails. Our interests were similar but not an exact match. We both liked history but she also liked philosophy. I loved watching sport. She didn't hate it but would be prepared to watch Bournemouth (amazingly still a Premier League team) if we could get tickets.

I had to admit to Brenda that my knowledge of the World's Greatest Ever Thinkers was through the Monty Python song, which contained the lyric "Socrates himself was permanently pissed."

I knew Socrates from an advert which had his dictum 'An unexamined life isn't worth living.' It struck me as a silly thing to write. Everyone examines their own life, perhaps not always, like the Pet Shop boys, 'with a sense of shame' but examine it they do.

Apparently Socrates made people aware that they don't know what they think they know. This isn't a great leap forward. In these days of Twitter you get to see this lack of understanding exposed with monotonous regularity. Most people seem to prefer memes to thinking for themselves. And the politicians worldwide take advantage of this. In America the meme went "drain the swamp" and in Britain it was "Get Brexit Done". Neither was clear what it meant. But both got a man elected.

I lived in Southampton. She lived about an hour's train journey from me in Bournemouth. After 6 months of virtual contact I agreed to travel to Bournemouth to meet her. She wrote "Smart casual jeans, tee shirt and trainers for a simple lunch. Meet me at the Mary Shelley, its opposite St Peter's church. I have booked table 21 for us. See you there at Noon on Saturday. Love xxx."

I was glad that we were meeting in such a public place. After all meeting an online date can be dangerous. You hear dreadful tales of ladies being abducted, raped and even murdered. Brenda had chosen well. Me waiting at table 21 meant she could see me and decide I wasn't her cup of tea.

Additionally the Mary Shelley has code words which trigger various responses from the staff. The most extreme meant the staff would call the police. Another meant the staff would call a taxi and a staff member would accompany the lady to it.

The code words are posted in the ladies loo. A lady being given a hard time by her date, or husband or partner, can even text the code words to the staff.

I am aware that men are also scammed so I am careful in case Brenda is just after my money. The 'love bombers' tell their victim how much they love them. It ends only when the scammer take the woman's or man's life savings. And it is not just heterosexual men who are scammed.

One of my gay friends was taken in by a 'love bomb' scammer. He gave the man £100 for a 'lost phone'. The love bomber then spun a yarn about deciding he would leave the job he worked in (in Australia). He wanted to come back to live with my friend as he loved him, heart body and soul.

Then my friend sent £1,000 to get his 'lover' a plane ticket. This was supposedly just a loan. Then, just before my friend's lover was due to fly to Heathrow 'a good friend had a serious illness'. He had to forgo the ticket, even though it was non refundable.

A week later, the friend needed 'urgent medical treatment' and could he loan him £5,000. Luckily my friend's bank spotted this as a possible scam. They blocked the payment. Like a fool my friend tried to argue that it was 'true love'.

His bank insisted that this was highly unlikely. They strongly suggested that my friend contact the police. He emailed his lover to tell him he needed some proof of identity before the bank would allow the transfer. That ended all contact.

It turned out the photo of his 'lover' was an American Army officer. He has the distinction of having his photo most used by scammers. The British owned firm he was working for in Australia had never heard of the man. Even the email address was false. And the police couldn't trace the criminal.

Often the scammer lives in Asia but pretends to live in Britain, Australia or America. My friend saw a video of someone tracing a professional scammer. He hoped that at least one scammer would end up behind bars. When the man couldn't get to the scammer, my friend cried. He hadn't only lost a significant amount of money but also felt used and abused.

He is cheered by a whole host of YouTube videos showing scammers being exposed. The British banks have now tightened their defences against scammers. They ask their customers more questions about large or unusual payments. They warn their customer that giving untrue answers will mean that they will lose their money. They record the questions and the answer.

But scamming still remains a £multi-billion industry. And don't get me started on cult leaders. How can one man so dominate others that he gets all the male followers to give him their wives? And then the husbands listen to him evaluate their wives' sexual performance in front of all the cultists.

A case on point is the Supreme Master Ching Hai, who claims she can 'channel God's inner light' Her followers have given her fabulous wealth. Enough to build an artificial island in a protected mangrove reserve in Florida. It speaks volumes that the Clintons returned her donation as 'being from a suspicious source'.

But I digress. But it remains true that meeting Brenda in person and in public is a kind of security arrangement for me and for her. How sick is society that security protocols are needed?

Anyway back to the important thing, me and Brenda meeting for the first time. She entered wearing expensive looking jewelry. She looked even better than in her photos. But something was different. But I had got past the 'let him stay on table 21 because I am out of here' test.

I said "I'm glad we finally get to meet"

She smiled and said "Hopefully the first of many."

We chatted and I ordered a fish and chip meal and a pint. Brenda ordered a baked potato with cheese and coleslaw and a soda water with lime. Our first face to face meeting was going really well.

I wasn't taken with the idea of having my photo taken by Mary Shelley's grave in the church opposite the pub. But as my return train was after 6 pm I still had time to kill after the meal. So we had a pleasant walk along the Lower Gardens. I asked Brenda if we could have some photos of us together, against each of the 4 ornamental tropical garden inserts and some more with parts of the large rockery as a background.

Brenda didn't really like the idea of bring photographed. But she agreed to take them with me as the human interest. It was the first indication that Brenda had body issues. But after taking lots of photos of me, she agreed to have a photo of us together. But it has to be one of us standing between 2 of the tropical garden inserts. We are dwarfed by the tall trees on either side of us as we stood, holding hands on the lawn. We looked insignificant with the trees dwarfing us.

Looking back I realise how hard it must have been for Brenda to have been in that photo. I was more occupied with the pleasant feeling of holding Brenda's hand. In my mind our first meeting had become our first date. I think the Council should put a Blue Plaque there. It would read 'This is the exact spot that Brenda Tomkins met Richard Smythe and he fell in love with her, and she with him."

It should become a place where men get down on one knee, or on leap years the woman, to propose. But there is no Blue Plaque and it is not noted for lovers proposing there. That shows how unromantic our society is. Truth to tell, the spot is mostly used by heavy drinkers, homeless people and vagrant travellers.

We walked back to the bus stop that would take me back to the railway station. Much to my delight Brenda kissed me as my bus arrived. I let others go in front of me because I wanted to be with Brenda as long as possible. I was aided by the driver needing to come out and operate the ramp for someone in a wheelchair

I told her "It has been wonderful. I will email you the photos once I have enhanced them." I debated whether to say the L word but decided it was too early. I didn't want to spoil the moment. But I knew I was in love and I felt that my love was reciprocated. Perhaps, to paraphrase the song 'we said it best when we said nothing at all'.

Brenda made my day even better when she said "Please come over next Sunday."

I smiled like the cat who got the cream. I said "Glad to."

The momentous moment was ended when the bus driver said "Sorry to interrupt you 2 lovebirds but I have 30 people waiting. Get on or get the next bus."

I liked the idea of us being lovebirds. The council should have another Blue Plaque 'Here Brenda Tomkins and Richard Smythe had their first kiss and a M1 bus driver called them lovebirds.'

I had better give up with the Blue Plaque theme for we would explore most of Bournemouth, Boscombe, Christchurch and all points to Swanage. If there would be a Blue Plaque for every one we visited there would be thousands of them. But I am getting ahead of myself.

To my surprise Brenda got on the bus and said to the driver "One single and one return to the railway station please" and to me "I'll see you off." It meant we would be together for another hour. Bliss.

The bus went up the very steep Bath Hill. I was impressed as went by the side of one of the magnificent flats that dominate the Bournemouth skyline. You have to be wealthy to live there. It was the home to the richest gentlefolk. It is Grade One listed.

I didn't realise that Brenda owned one of the flats. This is good and proper as a security measure. For the same reason I hadn't given my address to Brenda.

We chatted for a half-hour and as the Station Announcer tells us "The London train will arrive in 2 minutes" we kissed for the second time. I hoped that Brenda would suddenly decide to join me on the train. This was an unrealistic hope. But she did wave me goodbye and blow me a kiss.

I settled down in my allocated seat, saddened by having to leave Brenda but happy that we would be having another date. We are officially lovebirds and an item. I knew that Brenda loved me. Perhaps she would come to Southampton to stay overnight. Then the thought came 'I must give my flat a good clean up.'

This was a good thing since getting the flat ready would kept me busy in my after work periods. It is amazing how much clutter I had accumulated, and how dirty the walls seemed. I decided that I would declutter and then paint my lounge.

When the flat was more presentable I wanted a female opinion. So I asked my best friend, Clive, and his wife Heather over for a coffee. I then asked Heather to give me tips on getting the perfect Brenda-pleasing flat. She didn't think much of my kitchen and supervised me giving it a deep clean. Another piece of her wisdom was to find out what Brenda liked to eat and drink and stock up on the things she liked.

Her best piece of advice was to offer Brenda the master bedroom and stay in the guest bedroom.

As a thank you to Clive and Heather I gave them a romantic meal, with me as the waiter. It also meant I had practice at preparing a meal for 2 people. It was a shock discovering how much effort it needed. So I resolved that I would only eat meals I had prepared myself.

No more 'just bung in the microwave' stuff for me. I would eat healthy, nutritious food.

Having asked what Clive and Heather liked to eat I served them a 3 course steak meal with both red and white wine. I gave them freshly brewed coffee and fancy mint biscuits afterwards.

It was a learning experience and not as perfect as I had hoped. Clive and Heather gave me tips on what needed improving. The hardest criticism was that my home made potato chips weren't done properly and I should use a superior cut of meat.

But they agreed to have a second meal. I prepared the same meal. This was a great improvement on my first effort.

Clive joked "If you want us to test out possible honeymoon locations Heather and I are more than willing to test drive them."

Heather then said "Where would we be testing out for you and Brenda?"

I was caught off guard by Heather's question. I spouted out the first thing I could think of. "Brazil". I suppose it might have been influenced by wanting to see their football team. Little did I realise that we wouldn't be going to any of the traditional honeymoon places. I would never get to Brazil.

Clive now rejoined the conversation with "Well as soon as Richard has saved enough money I guess he will finance us making mad passionate love in a romantic 5 star hotel in Rio. The things you have to do for your friends."

Heather said "We got past the 'mad passionate love' stage many years ago. But you still have your moments."

They kissed. I had a disturbing vision of them in bed. I know people have sex. But not Heather and Clive. They were breaking down my reassuring notion of marital celibacy. I felt uncomfortable thinking of them in bed together and doing unspeakable things.

Then my first doubts appeared. What if I couldn't satisfy Brenda in bed? After all she had been married and therefore was more experienced than I was. I felt I was competing with her ex, even before we were engaged.

As these were my best friends I decided to tell them of my fear of not measuring up sexually. But I didn't want to blurt it out. So I decided the best way was to ask Clive how he knew that Heather was the one for him.

Clive said "Heather and I knew each other for many years. I always thought she was sexy. But she was dating another guy. When they broke up I decided it was a 'now or never' opportunity. I asked her out to the pictures. On our second date I took her to an Italian restaurant.

I asked "When did you know that you were going to become one?"

Clive responded "Unusual terminology. 'Become one' means not just emotionally and spiritually and physically and having to get used to being with Heather 24 hours a day. You know cleaning the loo with her shit on it is part of this 'being one'.

Heather retorted "And enduring Clive farting in the bed or coming home drunk and throwing up."

Clive said to his wife "I thought you enjoyed the Dutch oven."

I asked "What is a Dutch oven?"

Clive replied "One of us farts in bed and we both quickly cover ourselves with the duvet and share the smell."

Heather said "It is kind of fun. But definitely not a thing to do on a first date. On your date in Southampton, Clive and I suggest that we meet Brenda and you for a buffet meal. We think that will be easier for you than the meal thing. It may also help her to feel safe. After all Clive is a councillor and so is well known."

I replied "I think that is an excellent suggestion."

I think that helped when Brenda came to stay with me.

Cutting a long story short Brenda did come over to Southampton and all went well. We graduated to the sleeping together stage. And then to the discussion about where to live. Should we both sell up and move in to somewhere half way between Bournemouth and Southampton? We explored possible places but only one had the necessary appeal. That was the village of Sway. If you have heard of Sway it is probable that it was for its tower

My moving in with her would mean a long journey into work for me. Brenda moving in with me would mean her losing easy access to the seafront and beach. We spent weekends looking at various places to set up house together. The nicest was Christchurch, but that only saved me 10 minutes of commuting.

We seriously considered Sway and even got to the stage of looking at houses for sale. We were excited about a £500,000 property "in a delightful spit but need of a complete rebuild."

We contacted the estate agent to arrange a viewing. We booked a Bed and Breakfast for 2 nights so we could get used to the village. It was very sexy sharing a bed with Brenda in a strange place. As part of our discussions we discussed marriage and having children together.

We loved the location and hated the vandalised house. The previous owners had fallen behind with their mortgage and had wrecked all the insides so that the mortgage lenders had an unsaleable asset. The estate agent said that the mortgage lenders had got council agreement to demolition and rebuild, subject to suitable architect drawings. Unusually due to its location we could have an extra bedroom and larger footprint for the house.

The estate agents could arrange for us to see an architect. She was part of their firm and knew what the council would approve and what it would reject. The estate agent showed an example of what would be achieved. We liked this and the estate agent said he could arrange for a quote to demolish and rebuild.

The quote arrived and it was £500,000. So we could have a lovely house in Sway and Brenda's flat in Bournemouth. We went firm and offered the full asking price. However a local builder was also interested. We had to offer more and went big and offered £600K. But we had to make a third offer of £750K. This was accepted.

We took out a mortgage as interest rates were at an all time low. At the same time house prices were rising. It made sense to only sell my flat once we had our dream house completely built.

If all went well Brenda and I would have a dream house and a luxury flat. The architect agreed a fixed fee for design and oversight of the project. She designed it for us and 2 children. She even planned a tree house, which is something we wouldn't have thought of.

Once all the legalities were complete, the architect showed us the visualisation video. It even included us and 2 children using it The builder then pegged out the new footprint of our house and a child friendly playhouse and play area.

We agreed that the architect and builder submit the plans for acceptance by the council. The council accepted the designs but stipulated that we must upgrade the road leading to the A road This was reasonable since it allowed easier access to the Fire brigade. The council also insisted on us planting new trees. This would help screen our larger house from the noise of the A road.

Our sex life went into overdrive. We had a fantastic wedding, with Clive as my best man. The architect took care of the project and reported on its progress. Brenda stopped taking the pill. She rented out her flat for a year, which paid for the mortgage.

I sold my flat "subject to contract" and moved into our New Forest love nest. The while place smelled of wood. Brenda and I had sex in every room and in the garden and in the playhouse. But after a year of trying Brenda hadn't conceived. Every month her periods came. We went to the doctor. It was a great shock to discover that I had a low sperm count.

This meant I had very little chance of making our babies. Sex became different for me and, I think, for Brenda. It was still enjoyable and I could orgasm. But it was failing to do its allotted task of making babies. I felt I had failed Brenda at the supreme task of being a husband. I began to get morose. The playhouse stood accusingly at my sexual incompetence and impotence.

I felt that I was only half of a man. After Brenda had another period I was as low in spirits as I have ever been. Unknown to me Brenda called up Heather and Clive and asked them to stay over the weekend. She also told them that this would involve them helping us with a marital issue.

Brenda then said "Darling, you are over stressed and I have asked Clive and Heather over for a weekend. You and Clive can go for walks and to the pub. Heather and I can talk girlie stuff and prepare a fantastic meal.

On the Sunday we can all go for a Roast lunch at the pub."

I said "That sounds fantastic. I am really lucky to have you as my wife. I will tell Clive to bring gear suitable for a long country walk. The most he gets to a proper country walk is on Southampton Common. While it is nice it consists of tarmac and man made footpaths.