Our first date lasted 7 hours in the least romantic venue possible

There isn’t much about the actual fall that I remember (Picture: Getty Images)

Cycling through East London with a man I really liked, I suddenly realised the brakes on my electric bike weren’t working.

I tried to stop for a pedestrian but I ended up flying over the handlebars to avoid the crash. 

I wasn’t wearing a helmet – stupid mistake, I know – and had no time to catch myself.

There isn’t much about the actual fall that I remember – just the impact, the confusion and then seeing blood pooling on the ground around me.

It turned out I’d fractured a rib and needed six stitches in my forehead.

And the man I’d only met a few hours earlier was about to spend the next seven hours sitting with me in A&E.

I was newly single when I met Jacob. I’d just come out of a toxic situationship, so I wasn’t necessarily looking to date.

Our friend groups ended up socialising during the game (Picture: Getty Images)

But when Jacob sat down next to me at a packed pub while we were both watching the World Cup, I couldn’t help but notice him. Physically, he was my type to a T – tall, dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes.

There weren’t enough tables, so our respective friendship groups ended up sharing one, and Jacob and I ended up squished in beside each other. Desperate to start a conversation, I asked him for a cigarette.

He noticed my Australian accent and asked where I was from. When I told him I was from Sydney, he said he was heading there the following week for a wedding.

The game didn’t start for another hour, so we carried on talking about Australia, travel and whatever else came up. He was easy to talk to and the conversation felt natural.

Our friend groups ended up socialising during the game and, when England won and the bar started clearing out, we decided to continue the evening over a late dinner.

Six stitches later, we settled in to wait for a doctor (Picture: Getty Images)

I was excited. I’d only known him for a few hours, but I was enjoying his company and looking forward to seeing where the night went.

I certainly didn’t expect to end the evening in hospital.

Jacob called a cab and took me to there. It was a Saturday night after a World Cup game, so A&E was packed with a lot of drunk, impatient people.

It was the last place I wanted to be. I was in pain, embarrassed about the fall and gutted that I had ruined the chances of an impromptu dinner out, especially since meeting potential partners spontaneously is such a rarity.

Six stitches later, we settled in to wait for a doctor.

And waited.

And waited.

Seven hours passed before I was finally seen.

He helped me rinse the crusty blood from my hair (Picture: Getty Images)

I was in a lot of pain and wasn’t really in the mood to talk, but Jacob seemed to understand. He showed me pictures of his five-year-old Frenchie, and found silly reels to take my mind off what was happening.

I kept waiting for him to leave. I’d known him for a matter of hours and wasn’t naïve to the fact that anything sounded more fun than spending a Saturday evening in hospital with a stranger.

I told him he didn’t need to stay. But he genuinely seemed happy to.

Eventually, I had scans that showed my rib fracture, and by the time I was done, it was morning. Jacob insisted on staying with me the whole time and made himself comfortable on a flimsy chair next to my bed.

He took me home a few hours later and helped me rinse the crusty blood from my hair. I thanked him for staying with me and making sure I was okay; we said goodbye with a sweet kiss and he headed off.

We were constantly texting each other the next few days, up until he left for Sydney for a fortnight.

While he was away, he continued to check in, and sent me photos from the wedding. I loved seeing his name pop up on my phone and couldn’t wait for him to get back.

Then, three weeks after we’d first met, we finally had the first date we’d intended to have that night.

We went to the same restaurant we had been cycling to when I crashed – this time, thankfully, without any accidents.

Three weeks after we’d first met, we finally had the first date we’d intended to have (Picture: Getty Images)

While our priorities didn’t align and it didn’t ultimately turn out to be a romantic match, I don’t look back on that night as a failed date.

I don’t have the best track record when it comes to romance. The men I’ve seen are often intense, and I’ve become used to relationships and situationships that feel complicated from the beginning.

Jacob was different. He was soft and gentle.

I think sometimes you learn more about people when things go wrong than you ever could when everything is going perfectly. Anyone can be charming over dinner, but it’s a lot harder to fake kindness when you’re sitting in A&E with someone you’ve known for a few hours.

So, while our first date lasted seven hours in a hospital waiting room, it gave me something I wasn’t expecting.

A little more faith in love.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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