Today is the anniversary of the day Horace and I met 26 years ago on 6 February 1983.
INSERT PHOTO OF OUR HANDS CLASPED TOGETHER.
Horace and I.
Everybody seems to think we met overseas when we met, here in Melbourne, at the wedding anniversary of John, a mutual friend.
I had a boyfriend at the time who was so engrossed with the cricket that he refused to go a party with me because the cricket was on the TV.
I was annoyed with him for more than that and didn't think we'd last much longer, so I went to the party.
I wasn't looking for anybody and when John asked me could I drop Horace home I did, only I dropped him off on Hoddle Street so I didn't know where he lived. I remember thinking that at the time.
We also both used to go to the Terminus Hotel on Saturday afternoons to hear reggae there, and Horace told me he looked for me for until I turned up a few Saturdays after we met. I rememeber I'd been to visit my mother and worked one weekend so I hadn't been able to come.
That afternoon Horace asked me if I wanted to come to dinner which I did the next Thursday ... and I've seen Horace every day since then (of course except when we're not the same city!).
And what happened to the guy I was going out with? By the time I met Horace those few weeks later he'd gone on manoeuvres (he was in the army) and when he came back I told him it was all over. I didn't think it was right to tell him over the phone.