Blow-drying my long, brown locks, I couldn’t stop grinning. It was May last year, and I had a date!
I felt giddy with excitement.
Single for more than a year, I hadn’t thought about men, except my son Ryan, 19, and my dad Jimmy, 61.
That is, until a handsome stranger, Paul Watson, then 43, had asked me out.
We’d met briefly a week earlier, when a mutual friend introduced us at his house one afternoon.
At first, chatting easily, I’d hoped we’d be mates.
Then, a week on, I’d a text from an unknown number.
'Fancy a drink, just us?’ Paul asked.
No doubt about it, this was a date!
I tried to play it cool, but as we met up in a local pub, my heart was definitely…
