Back in the day, somewhere between the dawn of disco and the rise of R&B, two strangers - destined to become lovers although they don't yet know that - meet.
Truck unloaded, job sheet signed, next stop the depot. Jack walks around the vehicle to check everything is in order before departing, which is when he finds her, crouched by the nearside front wheel, looking vulnerable and frightened.
"Please." she looks up imploringly, "help me get out of here, I'm scared." And as if on cue, Jack hears an angry voice close by.
"Seen a woman around here?" it demands of someone unseen.
Jack makes a rapid assessment of the situation: threatening male, intimidated female; he opens the passenger door.
"Quick, hop in." She looks up at the three-step entry to the cab and warily lifts a high heel.
"Really, in these shoes?"
"For Christ's sake," growls Jack, grabs the young woman by the hips and lifts the erstwhile escapee bodily up into the truck; it doesn't escape her notice that her knight in shining armour does this easily. "Duck under the dashboard," he hisses, shutting the door and clambering into the driver's side where he's about to drive off when there's a commotion outside.
"Where is she?" slurs a red-faced man in a suit, standing in front of the vehicle and blocking his exit.
"Who?" Leaning out of the window to literally talk down to the jerk, Jack feigns a bewildered expression.
"I'm looking for a girl..."
"Aren't we all," he deadpans, the joke is not well received.
"Don't take the piss, I reckon she's in your lorry, probably climbed in the back," His accuser hammers on the truck to emphasise his point and Jack seriously considers getting out and chinning him. Fortunately, he has a better idea, calmly climbs down from the cab, gestures bollock brain to the rear and opens the cargo doors to reveal nothing but a broom.
"The bitch is around somewhere," the thwarted blowhard stomps away to berate some other unfortunate and Jack drives off.
"Safe to come out now," he announces a few minutes down the road, and with more dignity than previously the pretty fugitive hops up onto the passenger seat, kicks off her shoes, tucks her feet beneath an expensive-looking dress and favours him with a beatific smile.
"Thank you, kind sir, I believe you've saved my life. I'm Bonnie by the way."
"Jack. What just happened?"
"I foolishly, in retrospect rashly, attended a business conference at the plush hotel. we just left"
"Where I just delivered new furniture..."
"The very same. Invited by a hot-shot entrepreneur who after imbibing too much alcohol at lunch decided to aggressively hit on me. I politely declined his advances and am, therefore, 'a fucking prick teasing little mare'."
"Charming," observes Jack wryly, "and then..."
"I slapped him."
"Because..."
"He grabbed my boobs."
"And then..."
"He slapped me."
"Hence the swollen lip, anyone see what happened?"
"Afraid not, we were on the patio outside the restaurant and most people were still inside eating."
"So, his word against yours."
"Powerful executive versus lowly non-entity, no one is likely to take my side. I grabbed my bag and headed to the front lobby to hail a taxi, heard his voice approaching, dodged out of a side door, hid and then you found me."
"Think he'll keep pursuing you?"
"Unlikely, good sense and self-preservation will probably prevail when he sobers up, but the whole sorry situation was a big shock." Bonnie blinks back tears, then with a fatalistic shrug produces a compact and dabs at her makeup, evidently not someone who intends to remain a victim. Jack inwardly applauds her courage.
"Where are you heading?" he enquires, almost as an afterthought.
"Anywhere but there," she responds ruefully, "since you ask, London, are you going that way?"
"Northern outskirts any good?"
"Any chance you could drop me at a tube station?"
"Consider it done, we should arrive in about an hour."
"When I dressed this morning," Bonnie looks dubiously around the spartan cab, "I didn't envisage ending up in such surroundings. Speaking of which, when I climb down, I'm not risking laddering these nylons, they cost an absolute fortune, mind if I take them off?" Not waiting for a reply, Bonnie languorously extends each leg in turn, places dainty feet on the dashboard and carefully rolls down the silky hose to expose cutely painted toes. All the while Jack struggles to avoid this entrancing display and keep his eyes resolutely focused on the road ahead.
"Sorry about the impromptu striptease," says Bonnie with unconvincing innocence, smiling impishly, "very naughty of me."
"Bloody hell," complains Jack vehemently, "that display was almost a fatal distraction."
"I do tend to be impetuous, hence my current predicament."
They chat easily for the rest of the journey, Jack more articulate than she expected, but then maybe, Bonnie reflects, that's making patronising assumptions about people in manual jobs. Gradually her sparky personality returns and the two discover common interests in music and books. Superficially they make a mismatched couple; she upmarket, svelte and chic with blue eye shadow and pink lipstick, he workaday and muscular in T-shirt and jeans, hair unfashionably short.
All too soon Jack halts at a suburban rail station, vaults easily from the cab and chivalrously lifts Bonnie down from her high perch, trying not to obviously ogle her shapely body.
"You're a gentleman," she says, reluctant to part.
"And you're welcome," replies Jack, experiencing much the same emotion. "Look, here's my number, phone me later so I know you're okay, leave a message if I'm out. I'd like to meet again under less dramatic circumstances."
"I'm enormously grateful," Bonnie spontaneously hugs him and delivers a perfunctory peck to Jack's cheek. "Oh, what the hell," she kisses her rescuer again, this time on the lips. "Ouch, I forgot the bruise. Worth it though, what's a little pain? Bye."
When Jack arrives home the following day the light on his answering machine is flashing, the accompanying voice message sweet and full of promise: an invitation to her home next weekend. Come Saturday Jack is in Docklands, met by Bonnie at a scruffy station well off the River Thames tourist trail.
"Hi," she says, welcoming him with an ebullient smile, "My place is a short walk from here." Arm in arm, the two head east. In contrast to their previous chaotic encounter, she wears a simple summer dress, flat sandals and the merest hint of make-up, an ensemble he finds beguiling. Perhaps Bonnie is trying out a different persona, innocence personified? Jack suspects she may have several. They're ambling happily through back streets when familiar chimes herald an ice cream vendor's van.
