It didn't help that we got confronted by a host of problems as we sought to get to Zachary's restaurant of choice.

The station was overflowing with commuters heading towards their direction: Jonny and I were separated in the rush of party-goers and tourists as we attempted to navigate along the platform.

The first train we intended to take had refused to move along the platform.

Signal failure.

We had to get off, squashed like sardines, barely able to breathe as we trod on people's toes, earning a torrent of swear words for our efforts.

'What do we do now?' I said.

As we gazed at the scrum of passengers in the carriage we'd just departed from, Jonny's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he scrambled around for an answer.

Some people jostled past us, deciding that it was best to take another route to get to their destination for convenience.

Jonny's head swivelled around as I began to speak.

'I think I've got a map in my bag—'

'We can take the longer route — I think I remember it when I looked on Google Maps earlier,' he beamed as though he'd solved a complicated mathematical formula.

Jonny grabbed my hand and started to lead me down the platform.

'But I have the map right here. It won't take me long to find it,' I protested.

'You're all right, babe.' I'd never seen a guy look as happy as he did at that moment; I had no idea why men insisted on never asking for directions from people or trusting females with maps?

Male pride? It was almost like he'd acquired a caveman SATNAV.

'Look, are you sure you know where we're going?' I glanced at my wrist watch. 'At this rate, we're going to miss our dinner date with Zachary.'

'Trust me.'

We walked up the newspaper sodden stairs, at a snail's pace, a direct result of the hundreds of disgruntled people in front of him.

There must have been three of four lines we could of got on, but neither of us knew where each led to.

I'd tried to look for a map, but I couldn't find it.

After approaching a group of French speakers, who were just as clueless as we were, I didn't dare ask any other people for directions.

The minutes rapidly slipped past.

I could imagine Zachary waiting for us in the restaurant, totally blasé about whether we came or not.

I would have like to give up and go home, but my boyfriend had other ideas.

Jonny had the mad cap idea of following a man with a neat white beard, wearing a pair of camel-coloured shorts, as he seemed like he knew where he was going. Naturally, as we had run out of other options, we followed the guy as if we were his stalkers.

'This feels kind of weird.' I watched as Camel Shorts dashed ahead of us.

'We're not doing anything wrong,' Jonny smiled reassuringly, 'I do this often.'

I narrowed my eyes at him. 'I didn't just hear that.'

He laughed. It seemed to reverberate in the tunnel, attracting him a few appreciative stares from a group of party girls on the opposite side.

Leaning towards me, he whispered in my ear, "I'm not a stalker. Unless you count the time I stalked my brother. For a laugh, he'd nicked one of my video games when we were kids, so I decided it was time for stealth tactics because I was getting nothing out of him about the game's whereabouts — and I really wanted to finish that final bitch of a level..." He was now caught up in remembering the torment he'd gone through.

Snorting, I stroked his back comfortingly. 'There, there. I know it was a traumatic time for you, Jonny. Your big brother was so cruel.'

'Yes, he was an evil piece of shit,' he admitted.

I gasped. 'Where's the brotherly love?'

Jonny ruffled my hair. 'Traumatic time? You have no idea. But it's all good now, he's out of the house and become a boring married guy. I do not pity his wife — at all.'

'I thought you were nice, Jonathan!' I gave him an expression of mock outrage and he rolled his eyes, cackling throatily.

'I thought you'd know me by now, Candy. Nice, but firm. And no one calls me Jonathan unless you were an angry teacher in a past life... or my mum.'

'I'd like to meet you mum,' I remarked. 'We would probably get on really well.'

He blinked. 'You're serious?'

He was stunned. I hoped I hadn't given him the impression that I was embarrassed of him just because I wasn't going to tell my parents about our relationship yet.

'Uh-huh.' I was suddenly shy, as though maybe I'd been too forward. 'I mean, if you want. I don't want to intrude...'

We were silent as he processed all this. I looked steadfastly at the rapidly dwindling figure of camel-shorts man; we could just see him amidst the crowds ahead.

'Sure, we're having a roast in two weeks time,' he said evenly. 'I haven't seen my folks for what feels like a long time. Why don't you come along?'

'I mean if you don't want me to come, it's completely fine—'

I was cut off by a single look. His head was tilted to one side while I blushed at my awkwardness.

He broke into a wide, enthusiastic smile. 'Candy, of course, I want you to come, you silly thing.' He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed me gently on the top of my head. 'You're not a stranger. God knows, how long I've had to wait to move out of the dreaded friend zone with you!'


'I never friend zoned you!' I spluttered.

'I'm just teasing you, lassie,' he sighed melodramatically.

'Okay then,' I said smugly.

'You're right — you and my mum would get on like a house of fire.' Jonny stroked his chin thoughtfully, a sly smile broke across his face.

Before I could say anything for, he clamped his warm palm against my lips, ignoring the curious looked directed as from a portly man in a red shirt which hugged his stomach and made him look like a ripe tomato.

'Be quiet, woman. Where's our saviour?' He looked around, a look of alarm appeared on his features. I giggled.

'I don't know. Maybe he disappeared off the face of the earth,' I mumbled into Jonny's palm.

We stopped at the end of the tunnel.

There was a large route map which showed what train stations the southbound platform train was heading towards.

Jonny scanned the map and pointed at the station we were supposed to get off to catch the second train, so we could finally arrive at our destination.

'See! Didn't I tell you I'd figure it out!' He pumped his fist triumphantly.

'So competitive,' I said with a hint of smile.

He didn't appear to have heard me, so caught up in his success that Camel Shorts, who was also standing beside us, blinked rapidly, watching Jonny with a confused smile as if wondering who this mad guy was.

'Sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know where Bank station is? I've been walking around lost,' Camel-Shorts said. 

His accent sounded guttural. Dutch? Or South African?

Jonny turned to him beaming with happiness. 'No idea, mate.'

Walking into the damp, humid mouth of the platform, I mouthed a 'sorry' to the confused man as we caught our train just as the doors closed.

It sped us into the heart of the city, towards the questionable hospitality of an unlikely dining companion.