I couldn’t stand him – until he gave me his gun

We were in a disused shopping centre in Reading hunting zombies (Picture: Darryl Hannah Baker)

‘Here, take my gun,’ insisted my colleague, Lee, after I realised mine was busted. 

‘Take it!’ he said again, with more urgency as shadowy figures gained on us; before thrusting his gun in my hands and disappearing into the darkness. 

Suddenly, I saw Lee through different eyes. 

We were in a disused shopping centre in Reading hunting zombies – well, actors pretending to be zombies. 

Although we’d been working together for three weeks at lads’ magazine Loaded – him in sales and me as a junior writer – I’d only met Lee properly two hours earlier. 

It was early 2013 and experiential, immersive experiences were all the rage. I’d been sent out on assignment – a PR event for the DVD release of a zombie movie – and Lee had also somehow managed to wrangle a day out of the office to attend. 

He seemed to like the sound of his own voice and as the newbie, I had felt left out (Picture: Darryl Hannah Baker)

Still new to magazine journalism, I wasn’t relishing the thought of spending the day with someone I’d barely uttered a word to. In fact, I was dreading it. Lee had come across as loud, full of himself and arrogant. He seemed to like the sound of his own voice and as the newbie, I had felt left out when he held court in the office.  

When I’d met Lee and the other writers that morning at Paddington Station, he’d been on the phone – which was typical behaviour from him – although he gave me a quick glance and smile when I walked over clutching a coffee. 

‘With any luck he’ll stay on the phone,’ I thought, hopefully. Lee’s lacklustre reception to me joining the Loaded team left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I felt unwilling to speak to him.

But of course he didn’t, and seeing as we’d come together as colleagues and everyone else was a complete stranger, we awkwardly agreed to sit next to each other on the train to Reading. 

We chatted about music and similar holidays we’d been on and I quickly understood why Lee was the office raconteur (Picture: Darryl Hannah Baker)

To my surprise, though, we got on really well. Although he was nearly 10 years older than me, we had a lot in common and the conversation was easy and free flowing. 

We chatted about music and similar holidays we’d been on and I quickly understood why Lee was the office raconteur – he was engaging and asked a constant stream of questions, just like I always did as a journalist.  

After arriving at the abandoned shopping centre – which, even in daylight, was seriously creepy – our group  was  given a briefing about our ‘mission’ for the day. 

We were now wannabe recruits for a secretive organisation battling a zombie invasion and our assignment was to get out alive, killing the undead along the way. Following a weapons training session where we played around with lifelike shot guns which fired blanks when the trigger was pulled, we were let loose; which was when I realised my weapon wasn’t working. 

In that moment, he became my hero (Picture: Darryl Hannah Baker)

It also dawned on me how scared I was. Horror films are not my thing, and I have a vivid and wild imagination when it comes to anything scary like the dark and the undead. 

Sensing my panic, Lee gave me his gun and took my broken one as he raced ahead into the unknown. 

In that moment, he became my hero. 

I spent the rest of the session with a film journalist who was equally as scared as me, digging my nails into his arm like we really were in a zombie apocalypse. 

I nervously tiptoed around every dark corner and jumped out of my skin when one of the actors let out a zombie-like moan from the shadows. I was glad when it was over and we got to sit and watch some of the DVD release, while being fed and watered by the PR firm.  

I was caught off guard by how delighted I felt when he happily agreed (Picture: Darryl Hannah Baker)

Once we were on the train back to London, I asked Lee if he fancied a drink. By this point, I knew I fancied him – whereas before, there had been no spark, suddenly a fire roared.  

I didn’t think twice about asking Lee to the pub. It was such a natural way to carry on our day; but I was caught off guard by how delighted I felt when he happily agreed. 

‘But I’ve only got time for one,’ he smiled as we headed to the nearest boozer. ‘I’ve got another launch tonight for a video game; two friends are meeting me in Leicester Square.’ It didn’t matter that it would be short and sweet, the important thing is he had said yes.  

One pint turned into two and as we talked we discovered we had mutual acquaintances. There was definite flirty behaviour, but not the overt playing-with-my-hair kind of flirting, it was deeper; I felt like I’d known Lee for years, not hours. 

The entire time we were drinking I was silently praying: ‘Ask me to the event! Ask me to the event!’. 

I was ballsy, but not brave enough to invite myself along. 

As we drained the last of our beers, though, he did indeed ask me to join him and his mates. Now it really did feel like a movie, like we were the leads in a zombie romcom; two young singletons in London during the last heady days of print media, where events and launches were a dime a dozen. The (magazine) world was our oyster. 

There have been ups and downs and storms we have weathered together; but we have love, two wonderful children and a close-knit wider family (Picture: Darryl Hannah Baker)

Like any good event, the fizz was flowing and there was a lot of laughing. And flirting. 

The following weekend we grabbed Sunday lunch, which was our first official date, and from then, we became inseparable.   

Thirteen years later, Lee and I are married with two daughters. 

Lee knows exactly how I felt going into that zombie experience and he, in turn, delights in telling me he thought I was, in his exact words, ‘pouty, standoffish and uninterested’.  

We’ve had many adventures throughout our relationship. While not as young and free as we once were – and now having to factor in babysitters instead of just saying yes to everything – we still live our lives to the full. 

There have been ups and downs and storms we have weathered together; but we have love, two wonderful children and a close-knit wider family. 

All thanks to a broken gun and a bunch of zombies in Reading. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]. 

Share your views in the comments below.

Comments Add as preferred source