Another thank you to Gilly over at Lucid Gypsy for getting me going on this!

Michelle W over at Daily Post says:

Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.

This doesn’t need to be a depressing exercise; you can write about that time you lost the three-legged race at a picnic. What’s important is reflecting on this experience and what it meant for you — how it felt, why it happened, and what changed because of it.

Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.

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The au pair job had been a failure so I returned home with my tail between my legs. Mother was scathing as expected but Daddy just gave me that smile that says ‘Never mind’.

I was feeling listless. Pub, my head told me.

The usual gang was there and although I had been away for a while it didn’t take long to slot back in. As always Jimmy had the floor and was regaling about his latest acquisition – a beach buggy! I’m sure there were others who although outwardly frowning were like me inwardly a little jealous. He was always able to go where his mood took him.

The conversation turned to an event later in the week and somehow we all moved into the other bar probably to grab some more participants. Neither bar had a particular character but thinking about it the older generation were to be found more in one than the other. This conversation was for the ‘young bar’.

My attention was drawn to your pink shirt. It was a great contrast to that mop of black curly hair that seemed to be more of a hat that a hair style. I’m not even sure how we got talking but we did.

‘I’ll pick you up about 7 then?’

‘Yes. That will be fine.’