by Zoe May
They continue comparing rodent gestation periods for a good five minutes, until Chris turns to me.
‘So, how are things with that guy you were seeing?’ he asks, taking me by surprise.
Instantly, I picture Daniel racing down the stairwell on Friday night, hurrying away from me and my friends, fleeing from my little Lewisham life.
‘Things are okay. We’re going to Windsor Gatehouse tonight! Should be nice.’
My phone buzzes, distracting me. It’s a text from Tom.
Hey Soph, how’s it going? It just occurred to me that WE HAVEN’T EVEN DISCUSSED CAKE and we’re organising a BIRTHDAY party!! Please tell me you’ve got it covered?! Xx
‘Oh shit!’
‘What?’ Chris asks.
I explain about the party and how food prep was meant to be my arena.
‘I’ve arranged a full-on buffet. Every vol-au-vent you could possibly want, but I forgot about cake! It’s a birthday party! How did I forget?!’
Sandra looks at me sympathetically. ‘Just buy one?’ she suggests.
‘Or I can help you make one?’ Chris chimes in.
I look at him quizzically.
‘My mum’s a baker, remember? Believe me, I know how to bake a cake. And home-made is so much more special than the supermarket ones. I can do fancy lettering and everything, just tell me what you want it to say.’ He smiles.
‘No, don’t worry!’ I bat the thought away. ‘You don’t have to do that! That sounds like a lot of effort.’
Chris shrugs. ‘I enjoy it. Runs in the family, I guess.’ He takes a sip of his drink. ‘Let me help, I want to!’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, sure. When’s the party?’
‘Friday.’
I tell him a bit about it and he nods enthusiastically.
‘How many people are going?’
‘About fifty.’
‘Right, so you need a pretty big cake then? No problem.’
‘Chris, you’re not doing this. A cake for fifty people? It’s way too much.’
‘I want to! Honestly! I love baking and you know, you helped me out with your dating advice, if it wasn’t for that, I might not have a girlfriend right now. Let me help!’
He looks so sincere, his big blue eyes almost pleading.
‘Well, okay… If you really want to.’
‘I’d love to!’ he insists and I can tell he means it.
Chris gets more and more excited the more he talks about the cake, and we arrange for him to bring the ‘sponge layers’ to my flat on Friday before the party so we can do the decorations together to give it ‘a more personal touch’, as Chris puts it.
‘Right.’ Chris glances at his watch. ‘I’d better get back to work.’
‘Yes, we ought to as well,’ Sandra agrees.
We put on our coats and head out of the café.
‘Well, see you Friday,’ Chris says as we linger on the street outside. ‘And good luck with Betsy, Sandra. I hope the birth goes well,’ he adds with complete sincerity.
‘Thanks, Chris!’ Sandra smiles warmly and we head our separate ways.
‘Well, he really is a sweetheart,’ Sandra gushes the moment we’re out of earshot.
‘I know! I can’t believe he’s baking a cake. So adorable!’
Sandra shakes her head in disbelief. ‘He’s lovely. You know…’ She pauses for a moment. ‘I know you have Daniel and everything, but I can’t believe you weren’t willing to go for a second date with Chris. He’s just so nice!’
I can’t help agreeing. ‘Maybe I did write him off a bit too soon, but I guess I just didn’t feel that spark.’
‘Spark schmark,’ Sandra scoffs. ‘I know you’re all about love at first sight and thinking that when you find the right guy, you’ll just know and all that lark, but I don’t think it works like that,’ Sandra muses as we walk along.
‘It takes a while to get to know someone. It takes a while to know whether you actually get along. Take you and me for example, when we first started working together we didn’t exactly click straight away and now we get on great!’
‘That’s true,’ I admit, thinking back to when I joined Shadwell Medical Research Centre and saw Sandra sitting at her desk in her ratty old cardigan, with punctuation manuals spread over her desk and a half-knitted scarf spilling out of her handbag. I thought she looked so nerdy and uptight and we barely spoke beyond pleasantries for the first month, then gradually, we got to know each other and I realised that beneath that dorky exterior is one of funniest, quirkiest people around.
‘You’d have written me off if we went on a friend date,’ Sandra muses.
‘Well maybe, but it’s different with men. You need attraction too,’ I point out.
‘Looks are only skin deep though,’ Sandra says. ‘I think it’s more about having a connection and sometimes that takes a while to grow.’
‘Perhaps, but anyway, it’s all worked out okay, hasn’t it? I’ve got Daniel now.’
‘Yeah, you do and Daniel is a catch!’
‘Exactly!’
We walk in silence for a few moments passing other office workers no doubt on their lunch break.
‘You know, you should try it, Sandra,’ I suggest as I walk around a pigeon tucking into the crust of a bread roll someone’s dropped on the pavement.
‘Try what?’ Sandra asks, dodging the pigeon.
‘Online dating! There are some decent guys. Yes, there are a ton of weirdos to wade through, but there are a few gems, like Daniel and Chris for example.’
‘Well, actually, I have tried it!’ Sandra admits, looking a little sheepish. ‘I, err, joined eHarmony a few weeks ago. After you found Daniel, I suppose I felt inspired to try my luck!’
‘Oh my God!’ I gasp. ‘How come you didn’t say anything?’
‘Well, you were busy with Daniel, and we’ve been busy at work, and then there’s been all the drama with Betsy. I suppose it just felt like there were more important things to worry about,’ Sandra explains.
‘Oh, okay. So, how’s it been going?’
‘It’s been okay, I suppose,’ she says. ‘I’ve been chatting to a few guys.’
‘Oh, have you now?! A few, eh? You little minx!’ I tease.
I would have expected, given Sandra’s zealous interest in my love life, that she’d have regaled me with every single detail of her own dating endeavours. And yet instead, she’s being surprisingly coy.
‘Well, one, really. One of them seems special.’ Sandra smiles, a bashful dreamy smile.
‘Seriously? You’ve found someone already?’ I ask, perplexed. How is it that I’ve spent practically my entire adult life swiping and matching and messaging, and I’ve only just met someone decent, whereas Sandra joins one site and after a week she’s found someone special?
‘Well, I don’t want to get carried away, I suppose,’ she says with a little shrug. ‘But he is nice. Very nice.’
I can’t help feeling a little taken aback. She’s clearly met someone she’s really into.
‘Hang on, Sandra, let’s rewind.’ I pause. ‘So, you’ve met someone, like actually met someone in person?’
Sandra nods.
‘And how have you not told me this?!’
‘I suppose I just didn’t want to get carried away.’
‘Hmmph. This is coming from the woman who wanted to buy a hat for my upcoming wedding with Daniel?’ I remind her.
Sandra shoots me a guilty look as we pause at the traffic lights. She presses the button.
‘Okay… Well, what’s he like then?’
‘Oh, he’s lovely,’ Sandra gushes, her eyes lighting up. ‘He’s kind, caring, fun!’
‘Oh! That’s so sweet! Is he hot?’
‘Sophia!’ Sandra tuts.
‘Oh, come on, I was going to ask eventually!’
‘Well, I think so,’ she says, which is clearly polite-speak for ‘no’.
Oh well, as long as she’s met someone she gets on with.
&nbs
p; ‘So… Tell me more. What does he do, how old is he, where’s he from?’
‘Well… He’s a bit older than us… He’s…’
The traffic lights beep. ‘I don’t want to jinx it,’ she frets.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t know, it’s just early days,’ Sandra explains, as we cross the road.
‘Hmmm.’
Sandra may claim she doesn’t want to get carried away, but I can tell from the coy way she’s talking that she already is. Whoever this guy is, he’s clearly someone she’s quite taken by.
‘So, you really like him then?’
A smile teases the corners of her mouth. ‘Yeah, I suppose I do!’
‘That’s so great, Sandra!’ I can’t help feeling a swell of happiness and excitement for her, even if it is frustrating how reserved she’s being about the whole thing. ‘I can’t believe it though. A few weeks of online dating and bam, you meet someone special. It’s amazing! It took me years!’
Sandra shrugs. ‘It’s the algorithms. The metrics.’
‘So romantic…’ I joke.
‘No, seriously though. The personality tests on eHarmony, they really do work!’
I raise an eyebrow. I once nearly joined eHarmony, but got so bored two thirds of the way into the process that I just gave up. It took so long to fill in all those stupid personality questionnaires and in the end, I just concluded that eHarmony was a dating site for geeks and that my soulmate wouldn’t be on it. So, I went back to Tinder and all the other join-in-five-minutes sites. But perhaps I ought to have stuck it out. Perhaps my half-hearted efforts landed me with dozens of half-hearted dates? Oh well, I’ve got Daniel now so I guess it all worked out in the end.
I glance over at Sandra as we near the office. She actually looks a little different. Brighter and happier, and she seems to have made a bit of effort with her hair. It’s still in the plait trailing down her back, but it looks softer and glossier and she’s let a few loose tendrils fall prettily around her face. Perhaps this is the new Sandra, the dating Sandra. I wish I knew what her new man was like.
‘Oh, why don’t you bring this guy to Lyn’s party on Friday!’ I suggest.
‘What?’ Sandra looks inexplicably panicked. ‘No, no, I can’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, it’s just…’ She starts rummaging in her bag, retrieving her office pass, though we’re still several buildings away. ‘Umm… I just think it’s too soon. I don’t want to come on too strong.’
I narrow my eyes, not buying it. Maybe she’s embarrassed to take her date to a 75-year-old’s party, but then this is Sandra we’re talking about. A semi-colon loving Knitting Ninja; it’s not like she hangs out at the hippest of establishments.
‘Is the party not cool enough or something?’ I venture nevertheless.
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just we have plans for next week so if I see him too much it might ruin the, err, magic,’ she says, giving me a quick, shifty glance.
‘Okay then…’ I’m still not quite buying it, but I let it go.
‘God knows how you met Daniel on Dream Dates,’ Sandra remarks as we arrive at work and she swipes her pass through the door sensor. ‘I tried it before I joined eHarmony but I had to delete my profile.’
‘How come?’ I ask as we head down the corridor.
Sandra pulls a face.
‘There are a lot of rather strange men on that site. The things they send you…’ Sandra shakes her head.
‘Dick pics?’
Sandra shoots me an odd look. ‘What? No. Just weird messages, like, ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, can I stick a finger up your bumhole?’’
‘Hah!’ I crack up as I push the office door open. ‘I got that one too. Charming, isn’t it?’
‘Very,’ Sandra replies dryly.
‘Did you get the one about Uranus?’ I ask.
Sandra looks perplexed.
‘Ladies.’ Ted clears his throat. ‘Back to work please.’
‘Of course, Ted.’ Sandra blushes as we head back to our desks.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Sandra screams. ‘Oh, my goodness. Oh no!’
I look round to see her staring at her monitor, her eyes wide with alarm. I rush over to her desk. Betsy is on the webcam, surrounded by half a dozen tiny hamster babies wriggling around her like little pink worms.
‘Awww…’ I coo.
‘I can’t believe it, my brave little Betsy,’ Sandra utters, tapping her fingernail against the screen.
‘What’s all the fuss about?’ Ted comes over.
‘It’s the miracle of life,’ I tell him, struggling to keep a straight face.
He peers at the screen. ‘Crikey!’ he gasps. ‘That’s some litter!’
‘My poor little Betsy, going through that, all alone!’ Sandra frets, staring desperately at the screen.
‘Would you like to work from home this afternoon, by any chance, Sandra?’ Ted asks.
Sandra glances up at him, her eyes full of gratitude. ‘Oh, yes! Thank you, Ted! Thank you.’
In record time, Sandra scoops up her papers and shoves them into her bag, before taking one last look at Betsy on her monitor.
‘I’ll be with you soon, my little bubby,’ she says, turning off her screen.
‘Poor Betsy. My poor little Betsy,’ she mutters as she hurries chaotically out of the office, leaving her matching stripy stationery uncharacteristically awry on her desk.
I look over at Ted, whose lips, like mine, are twitching with the effort of trying not to laugh. When the sound of Sandra’s footsteps finally recedes, we both crack up.
Chapter Twenty
‘Cheers,’ Daniel says, clinking his glass against mine.
‘Cheers,’ I echo, taking a sip of Windsor Gatehouse’s finest red.
‘So, what do you think?’ Daniel asks, relaxing into his chair and surveying the restaurant. He runs a hand through his swept-back hair. He looks like a model from a watch advert, with his crisp white shirt, angular features and glinting Rolex. It’s as if three days away from him have made his good looks even more apparent to me now.
I glance around the restaurant. It’s pretty, with cute little seating areas, shiny pillars and exposed brick walls. Soft flattering light spills from quintessentially English drawing room lamps and there’s a lot of foliage going on, with indoor hanging baskets spilling vines left, right and centre, but although the restaurant’s lovely, it somehow doesn’t quite have the wow factor I’d expected. It’s almost like an upper middle-class English family’s front room, rather than the jaw-droppingly cool-as-hell celebrity hotspot I’d imagined. But maybe that’s what celebrities are into – a bit of upper middle class ‘normality’ in their otherwise crazy lives.
‘It’s lovely!’ I enthuse. ‘So cosy and chic and, err, I love the foliage.’ I take a sip of wine.
Daniel laughs. ‘Yes, the foliage does add a certain je ne sais quoi, doesn’t it?’
‘Oh, oui,’ I gabble. ‘Absolument!’
Daniel nods, giving me a slightly bemused look.
I look down at the menu. In all honesty, I feel a bit self-conscious here. Everyone, without fail, is impeccably well-groomed. All the women have swishy expensive-looking hair and are dressed in simple and unfussy but no doubt exquisitely well-made clothes. And even though I’m wearing one of the lovely dresses Daniel bought for me, I still feel a little out of place. God knows what I’d have worn if Daniel hadn’t revamped my wardrobe. New Look certainly wouldn’t have cut it here.
‘Do you know what you’re having?’ Daniel asks.
‘Uhhh… Just give me a second.’ I try to read the menu but the buzz in the room is just so distracting. Everyone, apart from Daniel, who appears studiously focused on his menu, is glancing around, sizing each other up, whilst simultaneously trying to act blasé, of course. At least a dozen people have already clocked him, no doubt believing him to be Robert Pattinson. One girl, who looks about eighteen, sitting two tables across, has got her phone out an
d is trying to take a sneaky photo from behind her menu.
‘Oh God…’ I groan. ‘Say cheese!’
Daniel looks up, confused, before spotting her. He smiles and gives her a friendly wave. She gasps and takes a quick photo, before blushing crimson and waving giddily back.
‘Robert Pattinson is so nice to his fans,’ I joke.
‘I know, right?’ Daniel grins. ‘He should be paying me for the services I’m doing for his reputation. Anyway.’ Daniel slaps his menu closed. ‘I’m going to have the lobster.’
The moment Daniel places his menu on the table, a waiter swoops by to take our order. I order the sea bream and Daniel requests a range of sides to go with our meals. He orders green beans and a salad, but can’t decide whether to get sweet potatoes or fries and so in the end just orders both, along with some truffled buckwheat polenta, whatever that is.
‘So…’ I tear off a piece of complementary focaccia as the waiter hurries off to the kitchen. ‘You know Kate’s party, was everything okay?’
I know Daniel isn’t overly keen on my ‘eccentric’ friends but since I’m part of that gang, a small part of me can’t help feeling as though it doesn’t make sense for him to not like them and yet still be into me. I’m part of that kooky, eccentric little group. Doubts and insecurities have been playing at the back of my mind ever since Friday and I just want to clear things up. I guess I’m craving a bit of reassurance.
‘Yeah, I was just tired.’ Daniel shrugs. ‘Like I said.’
‘But my friends, were you finding them a bit much?’
‘Umm…’ Daniel pauses, searching for the right way to phrase whatever it is he’s about to say, when suddenly, we’re interrupted by a mind-bendingly shrill screech.
‘Daniel! Dahhling!’ A woman rushes over and immediately plants a kiss on Daniel’s cheek.
‘Cleo!’ he gasps, rising from his chair to give her a hug.
‘Oh Daniel.’ She pulls him close. ‘I thought I spotted you from across the room and I just had to get a closer look to make sure. But it’s you! It really is you!’ she gushes, pulling back from the hug and giving him a quick once-over. ‘It’s been years! It’s so good to see you! You’re looking so well!’