”Matt is the best Christmas present I’ve ever had”
Civil servant Stef Bridges, 53, from west london, hated Christmas – so she decided to volunteer for a homeless charity. little did she know her festive good deed would lead to a slow-burning romance
It was his eyes I noticed first. They were bluey-grey and really kind. It was my first day at a new homeless charity, Crisis at Christmas, and I’d been paired with Matt to drive one of our guests to a hospital appointment.
I’m the original Grinch. I’ve always found Christmas too commercial and I think there’s so much pressure on women to get things right. However hard you try, it’s never as perfect as it’s supposed to be.
My ex and I did alternate years with our three girls and in 2004 it was my turn. They were 19, 15 and eight then. I had such a stressful time. It wasn’t the kids – it was me. I wanted them to enjoy their Christmas, not grow up hating it because of me.
I said, “Right, that’s it. Next year you’re going to your dad’s. I’m going to volunteer for a charity instead.”
A year later I was spending Christmas in an office block in the City of London. For a week every year, homeless charity Crisis takes over empty buildings all over the UK and lays on everything – food, of course, but so much more. They provide a warm bed, a shower, medical help, advice and the chance to connect for a while.
TEARFUL TIME
I was on the sewing team that day. When all you’ve got are the clothes on your back, it’s devastating when they wear out. A man came up holding a beautiful multicoloured jacket. “Can you do anything about this?” he asked, pointing to a large rip. It was beyond my skills, but I knew someone who could fix it and by the time she’d finished, the jacket looked as good as new.
“Thank you,” the man said, starting to cry. That’s when my own tears started, too.
It was midnight by the time I got home and closed my front door behind me. I was exhausted, but it had been brilliant. I thought the guests would all be sad and that the volunteers would be very “do-goody”, but it was the best Christmas I’d ever had.
Each year after that I went back and it was Christmas 2007 when I met Matt Wright on the drive to the hospital. As we waited, we began chatting. We were the same age and he had three kids too. We liked the same 80s bands, like The Jam and The Specials, and shared a love of country walks.
I really liked seeing him every day, but at the end of our week volunteering, we didn’t think to swap numbers. We’d both been single for a long time and weren’t looking for anyone.
The following year we met again at the
‘I fancied him and wanted to go on a date, but I was so shy’
same place, an empty office block in east london, and I was so glad to see him. But at the end of the week the same thing happened. even by the third year, when I actually realised I fancied him, we still didn’t make a date. I wanted to, but I’m shy. I’d been on a few dates since my ex, but no one was special.
But over new year at the beginning of 2010, I got a Facebook friend request from Matt. He said he’d be at the Crisis volunteers’ party in early January. It was to be held in a club at london Bridge, so we planned to meet in a pub round the corner beforehand.
I was so disappointed when he didn’t turn up. “I’m going home,” I said to my friend, a volunteer I’d met at Crisis who lived near me. But she persuaded me to go to the party for one drink.
The club was on two levels and when I went upstairs I saw Matt on the floor below. you can’t miss him – he’s got a bald head, so he’s instantly recognisable from above!
Heart beating, I walked down the stairs as coolly as I could and said hello. “Sorry for not coming to the pub,” he said. “I didn’t feel like coming out at all, but my son made me.”
I was so pleased he’d made it. We ended up dancing together all night. Halfway through, my friend said goodbye. “Don’t you dare come with me,” she whispered. “Sort this bloody thing out with Matt. I can’t go through another year of this.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” Matt said at the end of the night, but I wouldn’t have it. We live on opposite sides of london – him in essex to the east and me in the west. “you can drop me at the stop for the night bus,” I said, so we waited in the cold until the bus turned up.
MAKING A MOVE
I was pretty sure he fancied me, but we didn’t kiss. A voice in my head held me back. What if I’d got it all wrong? When I got home I could have kicked myself. We chatted online for a few weeks until I thought, “This is getting ridiculous! I can see this situation going on for another whole year.”
I knew Matt had some time off from his job as a librarian, so I invited him to come walking for a couple of days. “I’ve always wanted to see the Seven Sisters cliffs on the south coast,” I said. “That’s one of my favourite walks,” he replied.
Our first date was at the end of January 2010. It was an absolutely miserable day and when we set off from the Hikers Rest café after a mug of tea, the waitress thought we were crazy. Maybe we were but, despite the terrible weather, we had a lovely time.
Matt kept trying to hold my hand and I kept brushing him away because holding hands feels soppy to me, but in the end I let him. We were talking and laughing together and suddenly he went quiet and looked at me. Our first kiss was so natural and was everything I’d hoped for after waiting so long.
We took it slowly at first. Because we’re so far apart, we dated at weekends – often long romantic walks and ending up in a country pub. After a couple of months I introduced him to my daughters and they instantly adored him.
We still don’t live together, but I’m hoping for a transfer so I can be nearer to him. I think 2020 will definitely be the year we finally move in. Although 10 years seems like a long time to most people, it works for us. We’re both very independent and have a lot going on. Matt does a lot of volunteering – he’s an outreach volunteer for St Mungo’s, which is another homeless charity, and he’s also a leader for the Scouts and Cubs. We see each other every weekend. He’s a lot more romantic than me. He was the first to say, “I love you” and he even writes poems for me.
If you’re single, I’d say you have to build a life for yourself. Don’t go looking for a man in a pub! Do something you love, whether it’s an evening class or volunteering, and if you meet someone through it, that’s a bonus.
Matt says, “The first time I knew I had feelings for Stef was the second year we met. She was sitting on a windowsill playing with her hair, daydreaming. I thought she looked so beautiful.
“I nearly didn’t turn up to the party that night. I’d been with my ex since I was 16 and I wasn’t used to dating.
But my son Samuel, who’s now 31, said, ‘Dad, you have to go.’ I’m so glad I did.
“This year, Stef and I will be spending Christmas with Crisis in a lovely college building in south london. We’re senior volunteers now. I run shifts and Stef’s a guest welfare leader, so she spots the guests who are the most vulnerable.
“When you’re homeless and on the streets, you get socially isolated very quickly. you can go for weeks without talking to someone. So even if you don’t want to give money, please have a chat or just say hello.”
Crisis Christmas centres open from 23 December.the centres introduce people to Crisis’s year-round services which support people to leave homelessness for good.
See crisis.org.uk for information