After I had poured out my problems, Chris tapped his wine glass against mine, looked at me sympathetically, and said: “It sounds like you could use a little guidance from a Life Coach about your future … That would probably make you feel more prepared for ‘exile’, as you call it.”
I admitted I was open to any advice people could pass my way. This was when he suggested I join him in his Wimbledon home. Out of the blue! “I call it the Railway Tracks Hotel,” he laughed. “I like to think of it as a refuge where people can adopt new ways of thinking, get on a different track.”
“Do you mean a kind of therapy retreat?” I asked, finding it hard to believe his audacity – and my immediate, genuine interest.
“Exactly. I have some professional experience in Direction Finding Techniques and so on and would be more than happy to share them with you. You seem like an open and honest person.”
I thanked him for his kind words, while mulling over his refreshingly-straightforward invitation. Certainly, a therapy session before dragging myself to Heathrow Airport and “home” sounded just what I needed.
“Do you do this sort of thing often?” I asked, trying to conceal my eagerness. “Meet people (I didn’t say women) and invite them to your home within hours? Or do I seem that desperately in need of help?”
“A bit of both,” he smiled.
What could I say?
