The British Airways 747/400 flew cleanly through the sky. The sensation of the plane losing height and speed reminded me what I am doing sat on it in the first place and duly my stomach turned with sheer nervousness. I looked out of the window, my view of Boston improved. People and cars moved about like ants going about their daily business. The plane then made a steep turn, aligned itself with the runway of Boston Logan and hurtles towards it. As the plane touched down, a sigh of relief came from some of the other passengers. The pilot put the powerful engines into reverse thrust and the 747 came down to a halt at the terminal building.

Standing alone outside the Terminal E, I suddenly realised I had no idea where Dorchester Heights was, let alone how I was going to get there. Driving would be the best way, but a taxi would be the most practical, and at $45, seemed a reasonable price.

Thinking of her… she would be at work, with no idea that I had been so impulsive and got onto a plane. Our relationship had blossomed over a two-year period, from cyber sex that rocked both our worlds, to chatting about the most bizarrely diverse things. It’s said that love can conquer any boundary; well, that’s a theory I was about to put to the test.

The taxi driver was very chatty and kept asking me things about the UK. Absentmindedly, I chatted inanely back, not wanting to appear rude to him. As the car pulled up at the address I had given him, my stomach churned even more. I watched the taxi drive away and sat alone in the veranda of a house whose owner was about to get the shock of her life. 16.45pm, I knew that she would be home soon. I despatched a text to her: “what would you do if I was sitting on your doorstep waiting for you.” The reply came back almost instantly: “some hope.” A few minutes later, a sandstone metallic Chrysler Pacifica pulled up on the drive; the driver looked at the stranger with a suitcase on her doorstep, a little confused. I waved at her, making sure that she could see me properly. My phone bleeped, NEW MESSAGE RECEIVED: “you can’t be, can you?” I replied to her: “yes it’s me.”

The car door flew open and she jumped out. Her auburn hair shone on the weak sunlight; her smile shone even brighter. Watching her walk the short distance towards me, my mouth got very dry. In the flesh she was even more beautiful than her photo and web cam image. My hand stroked her face, and our eyes locked together.

“I can’t believe that you’re here, we talked about this, and I just can’t believe it, why! How! I mean, what you are doing here?”

“So the movies are correct then?” She looked at me all confused once more.

“You Americans never