Trina sees it for the first time

I kissed Trina passionately; breathless, we sighed as we pulled away from each other. She looked down. "My goodness," she exclaimed. "I didn't realise you had such a big one!" "Do you want to sit on it for a minute, see what it feels like?" I suggested. She took the rest of her clothes off and stroked her fingers along some of its length. "It looks lovely," she said. She eased herself down onto it and took a small gasp of breath. "Oooh... it's firm--but comfortable too."

For the first time this century I will be sleeping regularly in something that is neither a children's bunk bed (my last cohabitational hide), nor a foam settee cushion. I have a double bed. That is, I have a mattress on the floor, and an unassembled bed base. They won't fit, since the mattress is queen size and the frame is standard, so the mattress will overhang a bit, thereby offering a comic dimension to coitus interruptus.

Trina came to the wine club on Tuesday in a pretty black and white check dress with wide straps and a square cut neck, although I had to dissuade her from ruining the ensemble by wearing a cardi over it, encouraging her into a thin grey jacket instead, despite the cutting rain and wind.

We had a presentation and tutored tasting by an airline pilot turned wine importer, who specialises in South Africa. Looking at his leaflet beforehand I had my doubts. We were to start with a Chenin Blanc, a Sauvignon Blanc, and a Chardonnay, all of which have supplied some of the worst wines I've ever had.

But no. The Sauvignon Blanc had an intoxicating bouquet--amyl nitrate, or petrol, or a cheap vinyl suite on a hot day; a rich, changing flavour, and an aftertaste that appeared to have signed a tenancy agreement with your mouth. (Uva Mira Sauvignon Blanc 2009, £11). Trina took so effusive a delight in the same vineyard's simply named Chardonnay 2010 that she spent £25 on a bottle of it. Conveniently, I liked the cheapest bottle of the entire evening the best, a JP Bredell Shiraz 2003 (£8.75) (how often do you get to taste a Shiraz nearly a decade old?) It would have cost almost double that a few years ago but the firm is going out of business and they just want to clear the cellars.

Towards the end of the evening, over the port--well, OK, "over the port-style fortified wine" then--the club turned into a cabal. People wandered around tilting their heads towards each other, scrabbling for pens and cards, passing on details of unadvertised wine tastings and closed events. Someone invited us to the Borough for a pint, but I wanted to take Trina back and get her in my new big bed. "That's a lovely offer, but we don't see each other very often, so I'm going to decline it just on this occasion."

The following morning we went to her boat and got into a chilly, damp bed. Over some more wine with a late lunch, Trina started talking about us living together. For the first time in the entire course of our relationship, the pings of an alarm bell punctuated her sentences in my head.