Tuesday 9 February 2021

Coincidence - Six Coincidences in One evening. How a Little Hairy Hobbit Transformed my Life

Over the next month or two I will be adding some wonderful, coincidence, stories from amazing authors. Today's story comes from author and illustrator, Gilli Allan.


I went to art college aged sixteen. Various factors, including my immaturity, caused me to drop-out after only two years; my intention was to get a job as an illustrator. I was willing to consider fashion, book or advertising but unsurprisingly, none of the possible employers – magazines, publishers, advertising agencies – were willing to consider me!

Croydon Art & Technology College.


During the next five years my life became a stony uphill road. To keep body and soul together I took jobs I was totally unsuited for. Although I never let go of my ambition, my self-belief fluctuated wildly. Consequently, the time and energy I devoted to keeping my portfolio of specimens up-to-date and professional, and to apply to potential art-world employers, was inconsistent. I veered between hyperactivity and lethargy. It didn’t help that my love life was also a desert. According to friends I was far too choosy.


That’s when a series of coincidences - seasoned by a sprinkling of luck - changed everything. I decided to accompany my parents to an advertising industry party, given by a photographer friend of our family. Typical of me, I scanned the assembled company and wrote them all off. But a small man, ten or more years older than me, with wild hair and a wild beard, took a marked fancy to me. That evening my parents nick-named him my ‘little hairy hobbit’. I eventually gave in to his blandishments and danced with him. Peter was South African, not long arrived in the country, and was looking for a job as a copy-writer. He certainly had a way with words
and he made me laugh. The time had come, I decided, to take my friends’ advice. I accepted his invitation to 'go out'.


From the start, Peter misread me. He saw someone bound to have far more intellectually adventurous tastes than was actually the case. His own enthusiasms tended towards esoteric jazz, foreign movies or alternative theatre. But apart from the mismatch in our tastes, I didn't find him at all physically attractive. I never slept with him. I don't recall ever even kissing him (he nicknamed me his frozen camelia!), but I knew he had higher hopes of our future than I did. He even credited me - undeservedly - with his dream job which he found in the weeks after we met! I was uncomfortable to find myself the focus of his magical thinking. And his ability to amuse me was undercut by his total failure to arrive at a date on time. 


South African Embassy

 On that fateful day I had been hawking my specimens round various artists’ agents and magazines with no reward.  I therefore had my portfolio tucked under my arm (1st coincidence) when I arrived on time outside the South African Embassy on Trafalgar Square, to meet Peter.  Nearly half an hour passed. I was tired, fed-up and decided to give him one more minute. When he arrived just in-the-nick-of-time, (2nd coincidence) the lucky star that might have whizzed past if I’d lost patience and gone home, juddered to a halt above me.  Peter told me plans had changed and we’d been invited for a meal at his friend’s place. (4th coincidence.)

My lucky star now amplified its beam to full strength. I’d never before met, nor even knew about Alan. It turned out he worked in an advertising design studio as a senior illustrator (5th coincidence). He looked at the portfolio I still had with me and advised me to call his studio manager asap. Their junior illustrator had just walked out (6th coincidence)! I phoned the following morning, and an almost immediate appointment was made. I was offered the job at the interview, and I started the following Monday. At last! I was in my proper place in the world, at ease in my own skin.  


Peter had long gone when my husband-to-be came into my life. I arrived home after work and discovered an impromptu gathering at the flat I shared with my sister. The good-looking stranger I met in my own kitchen was called Geoffrey, and it became immediately apparent he was deeply interested in, and very knowledgeable about, art. So, the self-assured artist
he encountered that evening (even though commercial rather than fine) had to make more of an impression on him than a depressed and demoralized shop girl.

And it is Geoff who has supported me, been my best friend and given me the life that has enabled me to become a writer.  But I do wonder - would he have pursued me with such determination had the transformation which began outside the South African Embassy, and involved a little hairy hobbit, never happened? 

 

For a fuller account of this story go to:

http://gilliallan.blogspot.com/2019/10/not-all-turning-points-are-life-changing.html


BURIED TREASURE



mybook.to/BURIEDTREASURE

Find Gilli’s other books TORN, LIFE CLASS and FLY or FALL at

author.to/GILLIALLAN

Contact Gilli at

 

http://gilliallan.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/gilli.allan.1

https://twitter.com/gilliallan



If you missed the other Coincidence stories, please click on the links ...

The Piper

An Hair Raising Coincidence

The Best Laid Plans

And Did Those Feet...

A Magical Memory

A Caribbean Tale 


Thank you as always for stopping by and please come back for more.

Please, take care of yourself and each other and I hope the sun is shining on your face and in your heart.

 Hugs

Pauline

 




4 comments:

Gilli Allan said...

Thank you so much for inviting me to share this story. Pauline. I still look back with awe on that evening, when a sequence of unlikely events came together to transform my life.

Pauline Barclay said...

Thank you for sharing too. It's a great story and with such a happy ending. x

Ian said...

Coincidences like this lead you to wonder whether things were 'meant to be', don't they? And if that's an illusion, then it's a happy one in this case. A charming story.

Gilli Allan said...

Thanks Ian. It still sends shivers down my spine when I think about it. The first decision - to allow one more minute for my date to turn up, was the crucial one. My life might have been irrevocably altered if I'd given up.