Page 6 of What Happens in Dubai

Great. No backing out now. I took a cool deep breath and carried on with my walk, pretending to be distracted by my phone, all the while my arse was making buttons and my heart was leaping out of my chest.

‘Zara? Hiya.’

I looked up and smiled at the shadow of a tall man standing outside the large flowery entrance to the restaurant.

‘William?’ I replied, cheekily biting my lip, trying to see his face under the black night sky.

He was standing with his hands in his jacket pockets. I walked over to the silhouette in the doorway to greet him properly. He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

‘It’s lovely to meet you in person. Right, after you.’ He opened the heavy restaurant door for me. ‘C’mon, I’m bloody well freezing,’ he joked.

I smiled up at him as I walked into the busy restaurant, intrigued at his upfront manner. The lights were bright, and it took my eyes a second to adjust. The smell of rich scrumptious food made my mouth water instantly.

‘Mmm … I love this place, William. Have you been before?’

I turned to face my date and was surprised to see him rubbing his hands together, frantically trying to get a heat in them.Probably bad circulation at his age,I thought. But as my eyes gazed up to meet his, I suddenly choked in horror. William was sporting a full head of long, icy white hair.What the fuck!He most certainly didn’t have that do in his profile pictures. I could feel my optimistic smile drain from my face as I began to wonder if people thought I was taking my gramps out for dinner.

Suddenly I was conscious that I was staring far too long at his head, hoping my eyes would make the colour magically reappear.

‘You OK, wee yin?’ he muttered, as I coughed slightly. He walked past me towards the server. I nodded back, snapping myself from my nightmare.

William was tall, his frame large and muscly, but he was wearing jeans that were frayed badly at the bottom. I couldn’t help thinking they were probably older than me, and over the years of wear and tear they had turned distressed all by themselves.

But even though I had been well and truly catfished, I was in The Ivy, and I was not willing to let an old man with bad dating etiquette ruin my dinner. When I wrapped my head around it, I strangely admired his boldness to turn up so dissimilar from his photographs and I also completely sympathised. He probably didn’t expect me to be here without my spaniel lug filter or butterfly halo that I carefully choose to snap with as it seems to minimise my triple chin in photographs. He had after all, been a hunk back in the day; it was completely unfair that the ageing process had taken over and he now resembled a cross between Hulk Hogan and Karl Lagerfeld. I was sure I’d tricked many men over the years with my Instagram-filtered complexion looking as smooth as silk, when in reality I had more hair growth than the best of them.

The server was chatting to William and she smiled up at us.

‘I’ll take you both to your seat.’

I followed the pretty young hostess as William held back like a gentleman, allowing me to walk in front. As I went, I felt his hand scuff by my waist, and my back seized as stiff as a board. I felt like I was walking under a spotlight as I made my way past the tables neatly scattered round the lavish restaurant, hoping he didn’t touch my back or make any suggestive signs we were on a date. The décor was magnificent: a 1920s vibe with relaxing music and a warm, friendly atmosphere. I felt as if I was inBugsy Malone, only I was the only kid on this date.

We were shown to a small circular table in the corner which had pretty velvet bucket chairs at either side. William rushed round to pull mine out for me and I blushed, hoping no other diners were watching.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered, trying not to draw any more attention to us.

‘You’re welcome, Zara.’ He walked round to his own seat, taking his coat off and hanging it over his chair.Oh no.He was wearing a plain white T-shirt with a grey checked waistcoat which jingled with an obscene number of buckles, belts and chains attached. I hadn’t seen anything quite like it, and I could feel my face redden as I prayed he’d sit down quickly to avoid anyone else spotting the fashion statement.

As he sat, his chains rattled the side plate loudly. ‘Oh, oops.’ My eyes shut briefly hoping the moment would pass quickly. ‘So, hiya, Zara. This is nice, eh. Good to finally meet you,’ he said.

‘Yes! It really is. This is one of my favourite restaurants. What do you fancy?’ I was avoiding any eye contact, staring at the gin menu in front of me. I could feel myself get hotter with nerves.Why the fuck did I wear wool?

‘I think I’ll have the fillet of salmon; I checked the menu before I left,’ he winked, hoping I’d be impressed by this, and I smiled back briefly, knowing I hadn’t even factored time in to change my knicks never mind examine a menu.

‘I think I fancy the fillet steak. Yes, I’ll have that with a nice glass of Whitley Neill.’

‘Jesus, Zara. A steak!!’ his loud voice screeched. ‘I hope we’re splitting the bloody bill!’

I looked up at William’s gobsmacked face. My heart was pounding, and my already sweaty body was perspiring even more.

‘Haha, gotcha!’ He pointed his large finger in my face so suddenly my chair moved back, and my legs swung out and kicked him under the table.

‘Oh sorry!’ I began to giggle awkwardly, as I watched my date discreetly rub his shin under the table.

‘What the fuck have you got on anyway, Zara? A pair of rigger boots?’

I smiled politely at his shit joke.

‘Eh … eh … what kind?’ he pressed. ‘I thought you women were supposed to dress up for a first date?’

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