I pushed the door shut and leaned against it. Could that have been any more embarrassing? Muffins and coffee? Doing my back? Oh. My. God. Cringe, cringe, cringe.
I stomped into the kitchen area with the mugs and tipped them down the sink before returning to the shop where I stuffed a large chunk of muffin into my mouth. Oh well, one down, two more Steves to go. If I could face them.
Early that afternoon, Steve Walters called me back to say he was snowed under until Christmas, then he was getting married. He could give me an appointment in February, at a push, when he was back from his honeymoon.
Forty minutes after that, Steve Pinder called me to say I must have a very old copy of the Yellow Pages because he’d retired five years ago. I closed it and looked at the front. Yep, eight years old. I knew they didn’t print the damn thing anymore. I tossed the directory at the wall, taking a large chunk out of the plaster. Definitely needed plastering now.
10
‘You grab a seat; I’ll get some drinks.’ Clare rummaged in her bag for her purse while I headed for a couple of comfy armchairs in Minty’s on Friday evening.
My favourite bar was on a side street at the top of town. Leather sofas, brightly coloured armchairs and an eclectic mix of wooden chairs and stools jostled for space around homemade tables erected from railway sleepers, driftwood, and beer barrels. Old pictures and adverts promoting the area across the past century adorned the wall, interspersed with paintings of local scenes by local artists, including some by the owner.
‘I’m surprised,’ Clare said as she re-joined me with two glasses of wine.
‘At what?’
‘It’s really nice in here.’
‘And that surprises you because…?’
‘I don’t know. I think I expected somewhere a bit rough. Northern seaside resort and all that.’
‘How rude! We’re not all completely unsophisticated up north, you know. We do have a few nice bars and even one or two posh restaurants. We also got electricity recently. And indoor toilets are starting to become popular. It’s all very exciting.’
‘All right, you’ve made your point, so you have.’ Clare took a sip from her wine. ‘So, will you be sharing your game plan?’
‘My game plan?’
‘Your plan to snare your man Steven.’
‘I thought you didn’t believe in all that.’
‘I don’t but it’s pretty obvious that you do, so let’s say, just for a moment, that your clairvoyant woman isn’t a raving eejit and is actually right. You’re about to finally fulfil your childhood fantasy of meeting this perfect being, getting married, having one point seven children and living happily ever after. We now believe he answers to the name of Steven. How are you going to make sure you meet him?’
‘I don’t know. I figured it would just happen naturally. If it’s meant to be, it will happen.’
‘“Naturally”?’ Clare raised an eyebrow. ‘“If it’s meant to be, it will happen”? Don’t give me that bollocks.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This is you we’re talking about. The girl with the Life Plan. The girl who uses Post-it notes to make the key decisions in her life. The girl who was practically peeing her pants at that clairvoyant reading. Waiting for something to happen naturally is not part of that girl’s DNA.’
I took a sip of my wine and frowned. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan. I’d assumed he’d just appear and, after my window cleaning and plastering episodes, I figured the less interference from me, the better. ‘Maybe he’ll be a customer?’ I offered half-heartedly.
‘Yeah, sure he will. He’ll sweep you off your feet while he’s buying a bouquet for his wife to celebrate their wedding anniversary or the birth of their first gremlin.’
‘Baby.’ Clare and babies don’t mix. I’ve always wanted children although I admit I’m not one of those women who goes gooey around them like Elise. I do, however, think Clare’s view of them is a little extreme.
‘Gremlin,’ she growled. ‘Okay, let’s not worry too much about where you’ll meet him. Let’s imagine it’s happened. What are you going to say to him?’
‘Say?’
‘Will you be blurting out that he’s your destiny and proposing on the spot or will you be playing it cool and risking him walking out of your life?’
‘I… I dunno. I hadn’t really thought about it.’
‘You haven’t thought about much, have you?’
I felt a jolt of panic. Clare was absolutely right; I needed a game plan for this or I could blow it big time. How crazy would I look if I mentioned the reading to any Stevens I happened to meet? They’d run a mile.
‘I need to listen to the CD again at some point.’
‘Really? You promise you won’t get mad.’
‘I promise.’ Clare nodded with vigour but her mischievous smile contradicted her.
‘What are you scheming?’
‘Nothing. I swear to you. I’ve decided I’m going to humour you this weekend and go along with this whole meeting Steven thing because I know it’s important to you. But I want it to be noted that I still think it’s a big steaming bag of shite.’
‘Point noted and well made, thank you.’
‘Good. Will we get started then? Do you think any of that lot are Stevens?’ Clare nodded towards the bar.
I shuffled round in my chair. A group of three fairly attractive men stood by the bar, laughing as they waited for their drinks.
I turned back to Clare. ‘I’d like to think the dark-haired one might be.’
She frowned. ‘They’ve all got dark hair.’
‘Exactly.’
Clare giggled. ‘That was quite funny. For you. No time like the present.’ She swigged back the rest of her drink then stood up.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To introduce us to the nice young men at the bar.’
‘You want me to come with you?’
‘Of course. Or did you think I was going to drag them over one by one so you could do a name-check?’
‘No. But—’
But Clare wasn’t listening. She’d already picked up her bag and coat. I reluctantly reached for my coat. Then I heard one word that froze me to the spot.
‘Steve!’ The tallest of the trio waved in the direction of the door.
I slowly turned towards the door, stomach lurching.
Clare grabbed my arm. ‘I guess that answers our question,’ she whispered.
It must have started raining as ‘Steve’ held a dripping coat over his head. Could he be the Steven? I swear the whole bar must have been able to hear the thumping of my heart.
‘Move your coat,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t see your face.’
‘Steve! Over here.’
I held my breath as he finally removed the coat then shook out his blond hair.
Clare squeezed my arm. ‘Not bad,’ she whispered. ‘I know you prefer dark hair but he’s pretty cute.’
‘Not bad,’ I whispered back. ‘Not bad at all.’
Steve headed towards the group.
‘I can’t believe you’re late for your own bloody stag do,’ shouted one of the men. ‘You’d better not be late next Saturday, Steve, or my sister will lynch you.’
Bollocks.
‘I’m guessing he’ll not be your man Steven then?’
‘No. I’m guessing not.’
‘Good. Because I have an absolute gem of an idea for how to meet him quickly.’
‘Sounds intriguing.’
She took a deep, dramatic intake of breath before announcing enthusiastically, ‘A dating app.’
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard her sound so excited about something. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt such a huge anti-climax. ‘Tinder? Seriously?’
She shook her head. ‘Not necessarily Tinder. There are plenty of others. And I haven’t finished. That’s not the grand idea.’
Thank goodness for that. ‘So what is?’
/> ‘I believe you make your own decisions and control your own destiny. Clairvoyance would imply it’s mapped out for us already which means we’re not in control. If you believe the CD, you just have to wait for Steven to appear. How about trying my way and making him appear?’
‘How?’
‘By targeting Stevens on the app. It’s a fairly common name so it’s possible you could fall for a Steven if you date enough of them. You therefore fulfil the crazy prophecy except you’re in control. You’ve made it happen. Now, tell me, is that a grand idea or is that a grand idea?’
‘A dating app?’
‘Weren’t you listening to me? I’m talking about targeted app dating. I’m talking about seeking out profiles that only belong to Stevens. Don’t you think that’s genius?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘You’re not sure?’ The high pitch made me flinch and quickly look around the bar to make sure nobody else was looking.
‘Maybe I’m just tired,’ I suggested. ‘It’s not a bad idea. I just didn’t imagine that’s how I’d meet him.’
‘Well I think it’s a brilliant idea. It surely can’t hurt to try.’
‘Do you really think it’ll work?’
‘Christ, how would I know? I don’t do long-term relationships so I’m probably the worst person in the world to be giving you advice. But, as we’ve just discussed, you’re probably not going to meet Steven at work and the first one we encounter on a night out is on his stag do. Do you have any better ideas? Apparently one in four relationships start online.’
‘One in four?’
‘I knew you’d like that stat.’ Clare grinned. ‘So why not try this? For whatever stupid and misguided reason, I think you’re convinced that woman is right and Steven’s your destiny. I know you and I know you’ll get yourself into a right state constantly wondering when you’re going to meet him. I say don’t wait. Get out there, control your own destiny, and search for Steven yourself. There must be loads from North Yorkshire registered on dating apps and, if none of them are right, then I think you should admit defeat and accept your clairvoyant was wrong. Could you do that?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Sarah! Where’s your sense of adventure?’
‘Can I promise to think about it?’
Clare stared at me for a while. ‘You have until tomorrow morning,’ she said at last. ‘Because tomorrow we register you. I’m going to the bar. You can start thinking about it while I’m gone.’
I watched her head to the now-packed bar, men gazing adoringly at her as she passed and women narrowing their eyes with instant dislike. It happened everywhere she went. I leaned back in my seat. Online dating, but only targeting Stevens? Interesting idea. Maybe I hadn’t given her enough credit for it. Logic would say that the more Stevens I met, the more likely I was to find the Steven. Going through the Yellow Pages definitely wasn’t the way forward, especially when my copy was eight years out-of-date. Maybe online dating was the way to go. I took another sip of my wine. One in four? Yes, I definitely liked that statistic. Couldn’t do any harm looking.
‘Decision made?’ Clare asked, reappearing with our drinks a few minutes later.
‘Go on, then. I’ll give it a try, but it’s going to have to be online rather than an app.’
‘Why?’
I reached into my bag and cringed as I held up the phone that Auntie Kay had ‘kindly’ gifted me.
Clare recoiled in disgust. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘My new mobile.’
‘New? Jesus! Didn’t those things go out with the ark?’
‘New to me, then. I told Auntie Kay that I couldn’t justify splashing out on a smartphone and she said I could have her old one. I hadn’t appreciated it would be quite so old although I should have guessed with her being such a technophobe.’
Clare took the battered Nokia from me and winced at the weight. ‘This is bad.’
‘But it will have to do. For now, anyway. There’s broadband at home and I’ve got my laptop so I’ll give your online dating suggestion a go. I think.’
11
✉︎ From Clare
Still can’t believe you bottled it on Sunday. This is your daily nag. GET REGISTERED ONLINE! NOW!!!!!
I smiled at Clare’s text and put my phone back in my pocket. Daily nag? More like five times daily!
It was the Wednesday after Clare’s visit. I’d had the shop plastered on Thursday and Friday last week then spent the last couple of days painting ready for the floor to be fitted. Mum had helped me paint and it had been lovely to spend two solid days with her. I was really close to my parents but hadn’t realised how much I’d missed casually chatting to Mum about nothing in particular. It felt so good to be back in Whitsborough Bay and surrounded by my family again.
Auntie Kay arrived at Seaside Blooms, as planned. She’d been so busy getting organised for her travels that I hadn’t seen her since the beginning of last week.
‘Wow! It looks fantastic in here now that you’ve painted.’ She turned in a small circle on the paint-spattered lino. ‘I can’t believe how big it looks. I should have done this years ago.’
‘It looked great when you had it. All I’ve done is freshen it up a bit.’
‘Thanks, sweetie. That’s very kind of you, but we both know it was looking a bit shabby.’ She moved to one of the walls and ran her hand down the smooth plaster. ‘Nice job. Who did you get to do it?’
My cheeks flushed and I quickly turned away and put my bag down on the pasting table. ‘Some bloke I found in the Yellow Pages.’ After my disgraceful attempt at flirting with Stephen Lewis, I phoned round another eight plasterers (avoiding Stevens) the next morning and discovered none of them were available for several weeks. I then had a major attack of the guilts. Stephen had seemed like a lovely guy and he clearly needed the work. It was hardly his fault he was so damn gorgeous that I couldn’t put lustful thoughts out of my mind. I bottled any verbal contact, texting him to say he had the job and he should pick up and drop off the keys with Tara at The Chocolate Pot.
‘He’s done a great job,’ Auntie Kay said. ‘And I’m loving these cream walls. So much warmer than the white.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Clare’s coming up again the weekend after next to draw some abstract flowers on the walls. She’s good at stuff like that.’
‘Sounds lovely. Is she okay with your move home now?’
‘I don’t think she’ll ever love the idea but I think she accepts it. Cup of tea?’
‘I thought you’d never ask.’
‘I’ve got a question to ask you while the kettle’s boiling.’
Auntie Kay followed me into The Outback. I filled the kettle in the small kitchen area and switched it on. ‘What do you think about online dating?’
She stiffened. ‘I’ve told you before. I don’t want to meet anyone so don’t start that again.’
Crumbs! Hit a raw nerve there. ‘Not for you, silly. I mean for me.’
‘Oh. Why didn’t you say so?’ Her voice had softened, but the fiddling with Grandma’s ring told me she was on edge. I’ve always thought it was a shame that Auntie Kay was single. Before leaving home for university, I set her up with the divorced dad of a school friend. She spotted the set-up and traced it back to me. It’s the one and only time she’s ever shouted at me and boy did she shout. I asked Mum why she got so mad but she told me it was Auntie Kay’s business and she’d tell me if she wanted to. It became a taboo subject after that.
‘I thought it was obvious I meant for me.’ I threw teabags into the mugs. ‘Why would I suggest you start online dating when you’re about to leave the country?’
‘Good point. Sorry for snapping. I thought you said you weren’t ready to start dating again so soon after Jason.’
‘I don’t know if I am. It’s a scary thought after we’d been together so long, but I want to meet someone sooner or later and I don’t think it’ll happen through work. Clare came up with the online dating id
ea. Do you think I should give it a try?’
Drinks made, I ushered Auntie Kay to the desk chair then perched on the desk.
‘I don’t know anything about online dating,’ she said, leaning back, ‘but if you want to start dating, I know the perfect man for you.’
‘Really. Who?’ Please say he’s called Steven.
‘It’s someone you’ve already met.’
I shrugged. ‘Who?’
‘Nick Derbyshire.’
The name sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite place it.
‘You must remember him,’ she said. ‘Alma Sutton’s grandson. He came in for the flowers for his sister’s wedding.’
Oh yes! The man with the eyes like the ocean. I definitely remembered him. My pulse quickened as I pictured him in his morning suit, looking at me intently.
‘You said he was handsome,’ she said.
‘I didn’t.’
‘You did.’
‘Only because you made me.’
‘But you do think he’s handsome, don’t you?’
‘I can’t say I was paying that much attention,’ I lied. ‘If you recall, I’d just jumped on a train after dumping Jason. Checking out other men wasn’t high on my list of priorities that day.’
‘Well, he is handsome.’ She looked so proud you’d have thought she was his mum. ‘And he’s single. And he’s lovely. And he has his own business which is doing pretty well.’
‘If he’s that handsome and lovely and successful, why’s he single?’
‘Sarah! That’s a bit harsh.’ She playfully slapped at my leg. ‘Perhaps he’s like you – hasn’t found the right person yet.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘So it’s agreed?’
‘What is?’
‘I’ll set you up on a date with Nick.’
I put my tea down with such vigour, it slopped everywhere. ‘You’ll do no such thing.’
‘But you just said—’
‘I said the word “perhaps” in agreement that Nick may, like me, not have met The One yet. How you interpret that as “please set me up on a date with him” is beyond me.’ I took a tissue out of my pocket and dabbed at the spilt liquid.
New Beginnings at Seaside Blooms Page 8