Synchronicity

Last night Paul and I went out for drinks with the lovely Danuta Kean and her partner Eric Perrier (the perfect French name for the pefect Frenchman). It was a celebration of the occasional synchronicity of life. Danuta and I have crossed paths two or three times in our careers. She's a freelance arts journalist and publishing commentator, so that makes sense. On Wednesday, we got to know each other a whole lot better when we had to appear on BBC2 together to talk about the future of the book. (Oh, did I mention that already?) We got on so well that we went off for a long lunch together afterwards. But it was only towards the end of the lunch that we discovered that we live about three streets away from one another in saaath east London - and that we have done so for several years without knowing it. We agreed that we must 'meet up soon', but I was delighted when Danuta actually followed through on this oft-made remark between people who meet by chance and happen to get on. Her text arrived the next day, asking whether Paul and I would like to meet up for a drink with her and Eric in our local. Last night, a good bottle and a half for us and several pints later for the chaps, we were all falling about laughing and gossiping like old mates. Eric and Paul discovered a love of American football (ugh) and much musical taste in common; Paul was stunned to meet a woman who talks almost as much as me in almost as opinionated a manner; we were both charmed by Eric, who reminds us a bit of a slimmer, more intelligent - and French - version of Andre Agassi. We will certainly all see each other again, and we will no doubt find ways to work with each other again, too.