So, it was the beginning of a new chapter. The very next night I went out with a couple of friends who sussed out within minutes that I had met someone.

Sharper than an army knife these girls. Questions asked, details given. There was more in depth probing than a speculum in my vagina.

Then I brought up the subject of the children which jolted them into submission for a truly short while. My friends were married with babies, they were better experts on this subject than me and their opinion mattered. Well it did before the wine had chance to kick in.

Quite cleverly, one of my friends pointedly told me that I should expect things like this. The likelihood of meeting someone around the same age as myself was slightly possible but one who was child free? Unrealistic and, due to my age, it would be easier to find a glittered unicorn who crapped golden eggs.

Do not have younger friends, they will always remind you of your advancing years. Sods the lot of them! I would not mind but the guy who I had just met was five years younger than me. Years later, my husband still likes to constantly remind me of this difference, I like to play out scenarios in my head were I kick him the nuts!

However, she was right. I was the only one in my friendship group who did not have any children. Plus, anyone I was likely to meet was going to have a past and a history like me.

Also, the chances of having biological children myself were smaller than a gnat’s willy.

After a couple of drinks and not so gentle persuasion from the girls, I did the brave thing and hid behind a text message to contact him. Alcohol and mobile phones should never ever be near each other on a night out! It is a dangerous mix.

His reply was instant, no playing it cool for this one. We exchanged flirty texts. It was nerve wracking as we arranged to meet up the following day. I then returned to the task of jiggling my ass on the dancefloor in the style of a wasted octopus channelling a drunken monkey.

I could proceed to describe the rest of the evening, but I will make a hard pass on that as I cannot remember it that well. Fault of age or alcohol, you decide!

Over that weekend, a new chapter from my book of tits up turbulent relationships had begun. We saw each other after then, nothing riotous. Though, we did have to go to the chemist for the morning after pill due to a broken condom! I had never been so embarrassed in my whole life. Sorry Dad!

Well apart from the time I found myself locked out of my parents’ house after a heavy session. I had to climb over a small wall, the gate bolted shut, stumbled over the shrubbery in high heels and fell face first onto the bonnet of my mum’s car, legs akimbo and skirt wrapped around my ears!

Then the moment arrived. When would I like to meet the children? Definitely a new chapter. Fear flooded my body, the feeling of ice cubes melting down my back. I tried to hide the fact that I was shaking like a shitting dog at the thought.

Nothing to do with the children, just questions. What if I caused more harm than good? What if they did not like me? Would they be okay with me going out with their dad?

I felt sick and dizzy but that could have been the gin. I agreed a date. It was time to put my big girl pants on!