Just ask her permission.

I sought out the mother in another aisle, told her to let me leave with her daughter and promised her they would be reunited in time for dinner. It went incredibly well as she agreed to the plan as if it were the most natural thing in the world just like God had told me would happen.

I am sure the pharmacy staff noticed me leaving with the daughter but whether they questioned the mother I honestly did not know or care. We chatted and I discovered her name was Beverly or Bev for short and she was leaving for university in a few weeks to study English and drama, but all I wanted to do was get her home as quickly as possible and feel that young body of hers next to mine.

Well that was until we were passing the final shop before my home, a supermarket which would probably have given me many more options although to be honest nobody who worked the tills was worth a second look, where I spotted a beautiful tall thin brunette with a elaborate hairstyle similar to the Shakespeare lover from “10 Things I Hate About You” who was probably in her early twenties.

She had the look of an art student and appeared to be unaccompanied. I stopped her “Excuse me, could you tell us the time?” Yes it was old and corny but it was harmless.

Unusually for a woman of that age on her own, she was not staring at her mobile and looked at the only one of the many bracelets around the wrists which had a clock face.

“Just coming up to 11.”

“About half your age, then?” I offered.

“Yes.” said the bewildered female who was on the verge of deciding I was a creep, only held back from this belief by the presence of the girl by my side.

I had better make this decision quickly before my time ran out.