A logical thinker who has a creative side just waiting to be unleashed. Not quite sure how to free it though.
She'd spotted him almost as soon as she walked into the exhibition hall. She had a thing for tall men and he caught her eye straight away.
When life is good, when everything is settled and it seems there is a 'plan' then fate turns up. Fate always brings with it a surprise.
So they kept talking. They agreed that Graham should keep the lines of communication to his wife open. He wasn't ready to talk about divorce but Kathryn didn't care.
With breakfast over and the dishes all washed up they now had to face the music. 'I think we should talk a few things through' he said solemnly.
He wandered downstairs looking at the pictures and photographs on the wall. He knew so little about Kathryn. He knew she'd been married. They had talked about that last night. Where was she from.
He awoke alone in a strange room and for a moment he was confused before the enormity of what he'd done yesterday hit him. He wondered how his wife was.
That awful coffee she'd made was keeping him awake. He got out of bed and fumbled his way across the strange landing to the bathroom. On his way back out he hesitated outside Kathryn's bedroom door.
She lay in bed staring into the darkness. What a day. She could hardly believe what had happened. She was beside herself with excitement but was terrified of being over affectionate.
Eventually she gave a long, contented sigh and pulled her head away from the warmth and security of his chest. She looked up at him, smiling timidly and he flashed a grin at her.
She ran to the door then paused for a second.
She paced the floor in a state of high anticipation. He was actually coming here to her. It was madness but she was beside herself with joy. It had been a true case of love at first sight for her.
I felt slightly uncomfortable in the company of all these men. That was strange as it never normally bothered me but this was different. I felt like I didn't belong and they knew that.
He glanced up at the clock. 'Oh Christ' he cursed. The Boss would be back soon and he hadn't finished all of the work he'd been given to do that day. He'd be in big trouble.
Ferris Bueller once said 'Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while you just might miss it' He was right.
I never thought I would join the purple rinse brigade. But here I am, at the grand old age of 37 worrying about the 'sparkly bits' that seem to multiply every month.
Her phone rang. Unknown caller. She grabbed it gleefully knowing it was her lovely Graham calling.
Over the next few months Graham called Kathryn three or four times a week for a chat. They talked about everyday stuff, just happy to hear the sound of each others voice.
'Unknown Caller' she said to no-one in particular as she picked up her ringing mobile. She looked at it. Would it be a PPI call. Probably.
A long month had passed since his chance encounter with Kathryn. He had struggled to deal with his feelings and he'd been quiet and withdrawn. Things weren't going well at home.
Four weeks, two days and three hours had gone by since they had shared a kiss, not that she was counting. Her friends and colleagues were concerned about her.
After a minute of the most tender kiss he had ever experienced, common sense got the better of him and he pulled away. 'I'm so sorry Kathryn. I can't.' She looked at him, completely crestfallen.
The last breath. They used to call it the Death Rattle. The technical term for it is agonal gasps but to you and me it's the sound of a body and soul going their separate ways.
Finally he spoke, 'I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. You're there' he tapped his head, 'you're in there and you're everywhere I go.' 'It's not just me then?' she said nervously.
She gasped with a mixture of shock and sheer joy. This couldn't be happening. He moved her hand from his lips and pressed it to his cheek.
She sat mindlessly pushing the tea bag around the oversized paper cup. It didn't matter how good the tea was, those horrible UHT milk cartons made it all taste terrible.
'Only a few more miles' he told himself. He had been driving for longer than he should have and for once, a vile coffee at the motorway services seemed an attractive option.
There is something quite cleansing about running in the rain. The soft patter of the raindrops hitting the leaves is like white noise that drowns everything else out and leaves the head clear.
How she wished she'd asked him for his card. She'd handed hers over and expected him to reciprocate. That's the way it happens. Shake hands - exchange business cards. But he hadn't. Why not.
'What is wrong with you?' his wife asked, irritated at that far away look he had on his face again. 'Nothing' he snapped, 'nothing, I'm just tired' he said trying to soften his tone.
She sighed. He wasn't going to call. He wasn't going to email. Why did she always fall for the wrong man. Or was it the right man at the wrong time.