Then I Met You

by Dunn, Matt

  Lisa tapped those last two words into her phone. That would do. Because Simon had. Or did. And that was surely something he – or they – could work on.

  ‘What did you talk about?’ she decided she’d leave until later, because ‘A series of misunderstandings’ probably wasn’t a good answer, and ‘The finer points of coffee’ wouldn’t send the best message about a tea drinker like her. But that led her on to ‘Any awkward moments?’ – and, to her mortification, Lisa realised she had more than a few to choose from, from stepping out in front of his car, not recognising him at the table and sending him away, getting confused when he’d told her what he did for a job . . .

  She peered across the table to find Simon scratching his head. ‘How are you getting on?’ she asked, and he made a face.

  ‘It’s not as easy as it looks. And it seems a bit . . . stupid.’

  ‘What are you suggesting? That we refuse to fill it in?’

  ‘I’m not sure about you, but I’m not so keen on being in the paper. Or rather, this “date” being in the paper.’

  Simon had used air quotes around the word, and while Lisa couldn’t argue with his use of punctuation given that the past half-hour or so could hardly be called a date, when it came to it being in the paper that wasn’t how she felt at all. She was desperate to at least salvage something from this mismatch, and between her and Jess they could surely make something up so Simon looked fine and she came off as some kind of catch.

  ‘Maybe not,’ she said, feeling a little guilty at having earlier lectured Simon on the need to tell the truth.

  ‘Great.’ Simon looked like the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders. ‘So you tell Jess, and I’ll tell Will, and—’

  ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  ‘Doesn’t it?’ Simon was looking at his half-empty beer bottle as if considering finishing it, then he evidently thought better of it because he stood up instead, so Lisa did the same. ‘Right, so . . .’

  ‘So . . .’

  ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘And you.’

  ‘Should we hug, or . . . ?’

  Lisa thought for a moment. It would have been polite, she supposed, but the table was in the way, and she didn’t want to risk another ‘you go that way, I’ll go this way’ incident. ‘I think a handshake will do.’

  ‘Fine.’ Simon held his hand out, so she shook it briefly. ‘Well, good luck.’

  ‘You too,’ she said, thinking that if Simon continued his dates in this vein, he’d need it. And if things didn’t pick up for her, then so, Lisa feared, would she.

  ‘So . . .’ Simon had begun walking towards the exit, as had she, and at this rate they’d be leaving together. As if sensing her reluctance, he stopped. ‘You first,’ he said. ‘And I’ll give you a minute or so before I go to my car. Don’t want a repeat incident of . . .’

  ‘Quite.’

  She gave Simon the briefest of smiles, then headed back outside and began walking briskly towards the bottom of the High Street. There weren’t that many people around – but, then again, there were never that many people around the old part of town nowadays, everyone preferring to shop at the new retail park a few miles away – and, for once, Lisa found herself grateful for the fact. Fewer people to notice she was on her own, she supposed. Miserably, she retrieved her phone from her bag and dialled Jess’s number, responding to her friend’s ‘Babe?’ with a loud sigh.

  ‘That bad?’

  Lisa almost laughed. ‘Couldn’t have gone worse, actually. I can’t believe he’s a friend of Will’s.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Yup. Said Will had even encouraged him to write in.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Yeah. And where’s Simon now?’

  ‘On his way home, probably.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Yes, ah.’

  ‘Lise. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Why on earth did you think we’d get on?’

  ‘Well, um, because . . .’

  Jess was drawing that last word out, and Lisa suddenly bristled. ‘Jess!’

  ‘Calm down. I’m just thinking how best to put it.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well . . . because Simon’s not Chris.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘But he’s so not Chris. In fact, he’s the Anti-Chris. But in a good way.’

  Lisa let out a short laugh, despite herself. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’

  ‘A little.’ Jess giggled down the phone. ‘So it was a disaster. So what? I’ve been on worse first dates. Including . . .’ She lowered her voice. ‘This one guy I met on Tinder, he was really nervous, so he had a fair bit to drink, which seemed to relax him, then in the cab home he was getting so amorous I was thinking, I’m in for a good time tonight, but when we end up in bed and he’s down under the duvet doing . . . well, you can imagine . . . the next thing I know, I hear this weird sound, and . . .’

  ‘Do I really want to know?’

  ‘It was him snoring!’ said Jess, before bursting out laughing.

  ‘Oh my god!’

  ‘I know!’

  ‘What happened the next morning?’

  ‘Well, we’re still together, so . . .’

  ‘It was Will?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Jess with a snigger.

  ‘I thought you met at work?’

  ‘We did. Thanks to Tinder, if you see what I mean. Anyway, don’t you dare tell him I told you. Anyway. Enough about me. Where are you?’

  ‘I don’t know. Hang on.’ Lisa found a tissue in her handbag, then blew her nose as she checked her surroundings. She’d been walking randomly since she left the restaurant, and now found herself standing in front of the pub halfway up the High Street. ‘Outside The Old Cottage. Shortly to be inside The Old Cottage.’

  ‘Right. Order a couple of large white wines, and I’ll see you there in five.’

  ‘Thanks, Jess.’

  ‘One of those will be for me, by the way.’

  ‘I guessed.’

  ‘So don’t drink it.’

  ‘I get it, Jess!’ she said, although – despite her friend’s attempt to cheer her up – the way she was feeling, and with her hopes looking more like nopes, Lisa couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t.

  Chapter 11

  Though he’d done his best to hide it earlier, Simon had been surprised he’d passed the ‘emergency call’ point. He and Lisa quite clearly hadn’t been getting on, and, to be honest, after half an hour or so, he’d been wishing he’d arranged an emergency call of his own with Will.

  He knew the strategy well – it had happened to him twice Before Alice. Once when a girl had told him her best friend had just been in an accident so she had to go, although when he’d offered to drive her, she’d told him that would have been inappropriate as her friend might have a phobia about cars now; and another time when a girl had simply picked up her phone and put it to her ear – even though Simon hadn’t heard it ring – mumbled, ‘I’ll be there in five’ into it, and then, in response to his raised eyebrows, had just grabbed her bag and left.

  Still, this way was much better. No hard feelings – or hurt ones. He and Lisa had realised they were obviously looking for different things – in Lisa’s case, a partner; in his case, not – so they’d agreed to disagree and gone their separate ways. And even though Jess would have to find something else to write about next week, he’d fulfilled his part of the bargain with Will too. Put himself ‘out there’, even though he’d been a little put out to find himself forced into that position.

  The prospect of heading home to his empty flat hadn’t been that appealing, and he’d needed some air (and perhaps a chance to vent) – and Will’s place wasn’t far. Now he found himself ringing Will’s doorbell, and, as the door swung open, he hoped his friend wouldn’t be too judgemental. Simon had had all the judgement he could handle for one day.

  ‘Mate?’

  Will’s eyes had widened in surprise the moment he answered the door, and while
Simon wasn’t looking forward to what he could guess Will’s response would be, he wanted to give his side of the story first. Just in case Lisa complained.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Lisa too shy to thank me herself?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t tell me – she’s waiting round the corner before you whisk her off for an afternoon of passion?’

  Will was making a point of peering exaggeratedly over Simon’s shoulder and up and down the street, so Simon pushed good-naturedly past him and into the flat. He made his way into Will’s front room, pleased not to find Jess there. Since she and Will had got together a month or so ago, he’d managed to avoid meeting her. Not because he disapproved, but because the thought of being around the two of them made him feel a bit awkward. Like a third wheel. Lonely. Or, at least, made him remember that he’d once been part of a couple.

  The television was on, showing some football match between two sides Simon didn’t recognise, though that was no surprise. Simon didn’t really ‘do’ football. Wasting hours every Saturday watching two teams of overpaid, over-tattooed, strange-haircut-sporting sportsmen chase a ball around wasn’t his idea of fun. And nor was paying a small fortune for a replica shirt with one of their names printed on the back – like the one Will was currently wearing.

  ‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’

  Will followed him in from the hallway, picked up the remote from the arm of the sofa, and pressed Mute. ‘Just watching the game.’

  ‘Who’s winning?’

  ‘Not you, by the looks of things.’ Will mimed a belly laugh at his own joke, then looked at his watch. ‘That went . . . quickly.’

  ‘Well, when you know, you know.’

  Will frowned. ‘It went okay, right?’

  He nodded at the sofa, so Simon collapsed gratefully down on to it. ‘Well, “okay” might be overstating things a bit.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Yes. Ah.’

  Will had walked across to the fridge, though when he produced a beer, Simon waved it away. ‘Best not. I’m driving.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Will twisted the top off the bottle and took a glug. ‘So?’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Did you like her?’

  Simon thought for a moment. ‘Yeah,’ he said, slightly surprising himself with his answer. ‘She was nice enough. Attractive, obviously.’

  Will gave a small bow. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘Though she seemed a bit . . . complicated.’

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re hardly Captain Straightforward. Besides, isn’t everyone complicated at our age?’

  ‘Alice wasn’t.’

  Will scratched the top of his head. ‘Si, you can’t be comparing everyone to her,’ he said softly. ‘Otherwise you’re never going to move on.’

  ‘I know.’ Simon leaned back on the sofa and stared hopelessly up at the ceiling. ‘But what if I’m not ready to move on?’

  ‘Why did you go out with Lisa, then?’

  ‘Because you made me! Or, rather, tricked me into it.’

  ‘For your own good.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘You didn’t tell her that, did you? That I had to . . .’ Will frowned, as if trying to come up with just the right word. ‘Coerce you into going.’

  ‘Of course not! Well, not in so many words.’

  ‘Si?’

  ‘I think she could tell, though.’

  ‘Tell what?’

  ‘That I didn’t want to be there.’

  ‘Even though you were attracted to her?’

  ‘That’s not what I . . .’ Simon sighed. ‘I’m not. Well, maybe a bit. I don’t know. It’s just . . .’ He stopped talking, trying to work out what that ‘just’ was. ‘You’re right, though.’

  Will looked surprised. ‘I am?’

  ‘Yeah. There’s something stopping me, and I can’t decide whether it’s that I’m afraid I’ll never meet someone like Alice again, or whether I’m more worried I might.’

  Will had perched on the arm of the chair opposite. ‘Sorry, Si. You’re going to have to explain that one.’

  ‘Because if I do, it might mean Alice wasn’t anything special. And that’s not how I want to remember her.’

  Will took a large slug of beer. ‘Listen, Si. I know you probably don’t want to hear this . . .’

  ‘Don’t say it, then.’

  ‘And I’m not saying Alice wasn’t special. Because she was. But you also have to accept the fact that Alice was a freak – and I mean that in a good way. A one-off. One of a kind.’

  ‘I get it, Will.’

  ‘Chances are you’re never going to meet someone like her again.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘But you can’t let that stop you seeing what it might be like with someone different. You never know – it might even be better.’

  Will held his beer bottle out, so Simon regarded it for a moment, then grabbed it, wiped the top with his sleeve and took a swig. ‘Maybe,’ he said. Though he doubted it.

  ‘So, why not give Lisa another chance? You’re single. She’s single . . .’

  Simon stared at his friend. ‘I’m hoping you’re going to add a few more observations to that.’

  ‘And there’s the obvious thing that Lisa has in spades, and it’s something you could do with a bit of.’

  ‘If you’re being smutty again, I’m going to—’

  ‘Hope, Si.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘After everything she’s been through she still believes she’ll meet someone. Be happy with someone.’

  ‘What has she been through, exactly?’

  ‘The way Jess tells it – her last boyfriend was a complete wanker.’

  ‘As sad as that is, with all due respect, our situations aren’t quite the same.’

  ‘They’re not a competition, either.’

  ‘What do you mean by that, exactly?’ said Simon, angrily.

  Will made ‘calm down’ motions with his hands, as if playing an imaginary set of bongos. ‘All I’m saying is, you’ve got to give these things a bit more time. Coming to terms with what happened to Alice is difficult.’

  ‘I’m doing my best!’

  ‘I know you are.’

  Simon stared at the television, where a footballer with more visible ink than the tattooed ladies they used to feature at Victorian funfairs was rolling around on the grass as if he’d been shot. ‘Maybe. Maybe I’m just not ready.’

  ‘Maybe you are. Maybe Lisa’s the one.’

  ‘You’re saying Alice wasn’t?’

  Will sighed. ‘It’s S-O-U-L-mate. Not S-O-L-E. You’ve got to put yourself back out there.’

  ‘Yeah, but look what happens when I do,’ said Simon, handing Will his beer back. ‘Besides, I think it’s a little too late where Lisa’s concerned, given how she summarily dismissed me after half an hour. Don’t you?’

  ‘The day’s still young.’

  Simon made a face. He wasn’t, and that was part of his problem.

  He turned his attention back to the television. The footballer had made a miraculous recovery, and was now sprinting after the referee to complain about something.

  ‘Oh well,’ continued Will. ‘At least you did it. And I’ll tell Jess to go easy on you so when the paper comes out—’

  ‘Yeah. About that.’

  Will looked at him suspiciously. ‘What about that?’

  ‘Has Lisa been in touch with Jess?’

  ‘Dunno. Why?’

  ‘Well, because I – I mean, Lisa and I – thought it might be better if we weren’t.’

  ‘Weren’t what?’

  ‘Featured. In the paper.’

  ‘Yeah. Good one, Si.’

  ‘I’m serious. Let’s face it, what went down between us doesn’t exactly portray her or me in the best light, and it’s not like I’m actively looking for a girlfriend anyway, so it wouldn’t really be fair to . . .’ Simon stopped talking. Will was staring at him, a look of ho
rror on his face. ‘What?’

  ‘You have to!’

  ‘Have to what?’

  ‘Be in the paper.’

  ‘Why?’

  Will looked to his left, then his right, then leaned forward in his chair, as if about to impart some state secret. ‘I’ll level with you, Si. This wasn’t all about you getting back out there.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’

  ‘Well – mostly, yeah. But . . .’ He lowered his voice, as if his flat might be bugged. ‘Jess is in a bit of bother. At work.’

  ‘And this has what to do with me, exactly?’

  ‘I’m coming to that!’ Will took another mouthful of beer, followed by an even bigger one. ‘The “Blind Date” column. It’s Jess’s “special thing”.’

  ‘I thought that was you?’

  Will smiled sarcastically. ‘But they’re thinking of cancelling it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, because . . .’ Will moved across to sit next to him. ‘Because it doesn’t have the best success rate.’

  ‘What success rate does it have, exactly?’

  ‘Including you and Lisa?’ Will thought for a moment, as if totting something up in his head. ‘Zero. And it’s quite expensive, what with the Gazette picking up the tab for the dates. So our editor – Jess’s boss – thinks that it’s just people who want a free meal out, or fancy being in the paper, who write in. And he’s told her if it doesn’t work out for someone soon, then that’ll be the end of it.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘So Jess – well, we – thought if we got a couple of friends to go on one, then they’d, you know . . .’ He looked at Simon the way a dog might look at someone holding a treat.

  ‘I’m sorry. You want me and Lisa to lie, and say we’ve had a great time, and it’s all happy ever after, just so Jess isn’t out of a job?’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ Will leaned over and clapped him on the knee. ‘I knew you’d understand.’