Match Me If You Can

by Michele Gorman

  Forgive him?! She could hardly believe him. Screwy as his plan was, it had worked. She wouldn’t have looked at him more closely if not for Sarah.

  ‘Do you promise never to lie to me again?’ She held up her hand when he started to object. ‘To never lie to me again by commission or omission?’

  He smiled. ‘I do.’

  ‘All right then, let’s see about that. Whose drawings do you think were better?’

  He opened his mouth but snapped it shut again. ‘Mine. Yours are a close second, but I think mine are better.’

  Ouch, but at least she knew he was telling the truth. As far as she knew he’d never lied to her. He’d been a constant and supportive friend, even when it meant him losing out. And she was as nuts about him now as she was when they first got together.

  ‘I forgive you.’

  ‘Come here.’

  Gently he pulled her face to his, and when their lips met she knew she was finally where she belonged.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Sarah

  Sarah was happy for Rachel and James but she couldn’t help being a little disappointed that she wasn’t getting her own happy ending. Not that she had any interest in James. He was great for Rachel, of course, but way too awake after nine p.m. for her.

  Unfortunately, so was Jeremy.

  So she pulled on jeans and a button-down shirt, tied her hair up, slipped on her purple trainers and went to meet him. It was only fair at this point, she figured, to show him who she really was.

  His brow furrowed when he saw her. ‘Did you come straight from Cambridge?’ he asked.

  Or from cleaning your house? his expression added.

  ‘Nope. I was home working today.’

  ‘Oh …’ He found his smile again. ‘Well, hi!’ He kissed her.

  She’d miss those lips a bit.

  The waitress in Ronnie Scott’s showed them to their table for the late show. It was everything she imagined a jazz club would be – red walls covered with musicians’ photos, a low ceiling that gave it an intimate feel and loads of tables lit with tiny lamps. ‘This is nice,’ she said.

  As far as last dates went she couldn’t ask for more, really.

  ‘Have you never been before?’

  She shook her head. Jazz people were nocturnal.

  It was after midnight when the trio finished on stage and she’d been swallowing her yawns since the opening song. She’d liked the music, yawns aside, and the live gig hadn’t given them much chance to chat except at the intervals, which was good.

  But now, with the band packing up, she had to talk to Jeremy.

  When the waitress came to settle up, Sarah made a grab for the bill. ‘Please let me pay for tonight,’ she said. ‘You never let me do it and I’m putting my foot down.’

  She couldn’t add insult to injury by making him pay to be broken up with.

  Her courage wobbled though when she glanced at him. He seemed to glow with the stage lights catching his blond hair. His pale freckled face was growing on her and she didn’t even mind his height any more. They did have a nice time when they went out. There were more lulls in their conversations now that they’d been through most of the usual background questions, but there would probably be times when she’d prefer his company to 8 Out Of 10 Cats reruns. Maybe that was enough reason to go on seeing him for a while longer.

  But what was the point of that when she knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere? He was okay, but she’d probably never like him any more than she did now.

  Plus, she really wanted to start getting to sleep before midnight again.

  ‘Jeremy—’

  ‘J, you mean?’ He smiled.

  ‘Yes, J. I wanted to talk to you about something.’

  ‘That sounds serious.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s about us. Oh, that sounds melodramatic, doesn’t it? I just wanted to say that we’ve been seeing each other for a bit now and … I wondered if you’re seeing anyone else?’ The question just popped into her head. ‘I mean, we’re both still on RecycLove, so I just wondered.’

  He squirmed in his velvet seat. ‘Nothing serious, just a few dates here and there. Why?’

  ‘Then we’re not too serious. Are we?’

  Jeremy looked like a fox who’s just heard the hounds behind him. ‘Listen, Sarah, you’re a great girl but I’m not really looking for anything serious at this point.’

  ‘Neither am I!’ Though her protest did sound hollow now that he’d just said the same thing. ‘In fact, I’ve got to be honest. I’ve had fun with you but these late nights are killing me. And I think I’ve now got bunions.’

  ‘You’re blaming me for bunions?’ There was the hint of a smile.

  ‘Not you directly. But the shoes I’ve been wearing to get into the clubs to go dancing. I’m not really used to them. I’m not used to any of this. I have to drink a lot of coffee to stay awake after ten.’

  He checked his phone. ‘It’s nearly one now.’

  ‘I had a double espresso at Bar Italia on the way here. My point is that I don’t think our lifestyles are very compatible. I like staying in and watching telly or just being with my friends. I’m really a very boring person at heart.’

  ‘That’s not true, Sarah,’ he said. ‘Maybe you’re not a party girl but you’re not boring either. I understand what you’re saying though.’ He seemed to think for a moment. ‘Will you stay on the website?’

  She nodded. ‘Definitely. I do want to meet someone. He just has to be more my speed. Like, maybe, second gear.’

  ‘Then here’s to finding second gear,’ Jeremy said, lifting his nearly empty glass. ‘I’m going to stay in overdrive for a while.’

  It was after eleven the next morning by the time Sarah made her way down to the kitchen. It was quiet, blissfully quiet. After monthly promises to finish, Nate had finally kept his word. Yesterday they’d packed up their tools and even given the floors a cursory sweep. Finishing as they’d started, they’d scraped their tool bags along the wall in the corridor, waved a cheery goodbye and gone to wreak havoc on the next unsuspecting client.

  The silence did feel weird to her ears. Would she miss them? She thought about the daily disinfecting and constant coffee duty, the wrongly torn down walls, the broken bathtub and missing banister, the neighbours’ fire and electrical blackouts. There’d be no more poo bombs in their loo or anyone to stub out fags in their garden pots. She didn’t have to be dressed before eight a.m. or take phone calls outside because of the noise. After a dozen or so cleanings the house would no longer look like Pompeii after the eruption.

  But they’d survived. They’d lived with builders for over four months and had the grey hair and wrinkles to show for it. But they also had a beautiful house. The top two floors were transformed, ready to convert when the time came. She definitely wouldn’t miss Nate and his team.

  She did miss the hum of activity though, so, padding over to the ancient radio, she tuned in Radio Four and let the presenter’s deep, calm voice wash over her. Then she got to work. Gathering the eggs, butter and carrots into her arms, she dumped them on the table. She got out the flour, sugar and spices and took down her mum’s mixing bowl and sifter. As she worked through the morning muffin recipe, she thought about her mum and what she’d have said about the Bake Off audition. In the quiet of the kitchen, she could hear her. ‘Dozy mare!’ she’d say, going in for a hug. ‘Better pull your socks up, girl, and next time do better.’

  That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Mum.

  As the first batch baked she pulled her pencils and pad from her bag and started sketching. When she was finished she taped the page to the fridge. Next year she had a date with Paul Hollywood.

  The second batch was just starting to smell delicious when Rachel shuffled downstairs in her dressing gown and slippers. ‘Morning. Is it morning?’

  ‘Coffee’s in the thingy,’ Sarah said, looking up from the table where she’d started typing on her laptop.

  ‘What are you do
ing?’

  ‘Baking muffins and looking at my new profile.’

  ‘Ooh, let me see!’

  As Rachel looked over her updated RecycLove page, Sarah braced herself to defend it. It was no longer slick or polished, but it was who she really was. So she liked Grand Designs more than grand restaurants and would rather be parallel on the sofa than paralytic in a club. If that wasn’t good enough for a guy then he wouldn’t be good enough for her.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Rachel finally said, sipping her coffee. ‘It’s perfectly you.’

  Sarah relaxed. ‘Thank you. I’ve got a couple of messages already that look interesting. I’ll answer them later. I think my photo isn’t bad either.’

  It was one that Robin had taken the day they’d all gone to Brighton. Sarah’s hair floated around her face where it had escaped from its elastic band in the wind on the pier. She wore her favourite stripy blue jumper and her usual goofy smile.

  ‘What are we looking at?’ Catherine asked as she came in, already washed and dressed.

  ‘My new profile,’ said Sarah. ‘I figured I should update it to be more me, since I stopped seeing Jeremy last night.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ both women asked her.

  ‘Oh yes, fine, really. He was nice but exhausting! I can’t go to any more clubs. He wasn’t upset when I told him.’

  ‘As long as you’re okay,’ Catherine said. ‘You’re really sure?’

  ‘Positive.’ And she was.

  ‘You will find someone who’s perfect for you, you know,’ Rachel said.

  ‘I know I will. Look at you. It might take me four years and I might have to be tricked into it because I’m too thick to see what’s been right in front of me all the time, but—’

  ‘All right,’ Rachel said. ‘So don’t be thick like me, then. Keep your eyes open and you’ll find someone who’s just as weird and lovely as you are.’

  Her housemates drifted off to other parts of the house, leaving Sarah in the quiet kitchen to wait for her muffins. She’d called Sissy last night before she went out but she wanted to talk to her again.

  ‘Sissy, it’s me. What are you doing?’

  ‘Drawing. What are you doing?’

  ‘Making Mum’s muffins. I’ll bring some with me tomorrow. How is everything? You’ve had breakfast already?’

  ‘It’s almost lunchtime,’ Sissy reminded her sister.

  ‘Right. Will you have lunch with Ben? What’s on the menu?’

  ‘Turkey chilli. I broke up with Ben.’

  ‘You did? Are you okay?’ It was times like this that she wanted to be an easy journey away.

  ‘I’m okay. Someone else will come along.’

  Sarah smiled into the phone at her sister’s pragmatism. She was definitely their mum’s daughter. ‘I have an idea,’ Sarah said. ‘Let’s go away in a few weeks, just you and me. How ’bout that? A girls’ holiday. We’ll find somewhere with a beach and sun.’

  There was silence on the line. ‘Sissy?’

  ‘You won’t eat raw fish this time?’

  ‘No, I promise.’

  ‘Okay, then. I’ve gotta go, the bingo’s going to start.’

  ‘I love you, Sissy.’

  ‘Love you too.’

  The muffins were cool by the time Rachel came back into the kitchen. ‘Those smell amazing!’ Her hair was wet from the shower and she had on footless leggings and a pretty violet smock dress.

  ‘Help yourself, I made a double batch. I’ll take the rest to Sissy tomorrow.’

  Rachel cut one in half, slathered it with butter and took a big bite. ‘She’s still settling in well?’ she said with her mouth full. ‘Sorry, gross.’

  ‘She loves it.’

  ‘Who loves what?’ said Catherine, striding into the kitchen clutching her phone. When she went to the fridge for milk, she saw the Bake Off sketch. ‘Good for you, Sarah Lee.’

  As Sarah looked between her housemates, her two very best friends in the world, and thought about Sissy, and the Bake Off auditions next year, she realised she already had her happy ending. A like-minded boyfriend would just be the icing on the show-stopper cake. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Can I have a muffin?’ Catherine asked with her hand already hovering.

  ‘Of course. We’re talking about Sissy. She loves the new facility. Luckily. I was starting to think we’d have to get Nate to build a room for her.’ Sarah laughed like she was joking, but the relief she felt was incredible. And not only because she’d nearly had an aneurism when they’d lost her in Brighton. Kelly was right. Sissy was sixteen and needed other teenagers around her, not just her twenty-nine-year-old sister and thirty-something housemates. Sissy was starting to feel her independence and one day she might want her own flat. So they could look into a supported living arrangement and get her close by in London when the time came. Till then she was happy and safe with Kelly and her friends at the home.

  Catherine’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and ended the call.

  Rachel and Sarah caught each other’s eye. ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Nobody. Alis,’ she said.

  ‘Nobody Alis as in your client?’ Sarah asked.

  Catherine nodded. Then she told them about their night together. ‘Obviously I can’t see him,’ she said when she’d finished.

  ‘What’s so obvious about that?’ Rachel wanted to know.

  ‘Well, duh,’ Sarah said. ‘Weren’t you listening? He’s her client.’

  Rachel and Catherine both smirked. ‘Yeah, I got that, Sarah, thanks,’ Rachel said. ‘I just think it’s stupid to dismiss him out of hand if you really like him. You do really like him, don’t you?’

  The shutters rolled down over Catherine’s face. ‘It doesn’t matter. I have enough other things to worry about. I’ve got to figure out how to get the money to buy out Richard.’

  ‘Don’t change the subject, and you’re making excuses,’ Rachel said. ‘The valuers come this week, right? With the new layout you know it’s worth a lot more than we paid. So back to Alis. Wait, where are you going?’

  ‘Too much coffee,’ Catherine said, standing up. ‘I’ll be right back.’ She hurried upstairs before they could say anything else.

  ‘She left her phone,’ said Rachel, picking it up.

  ‘She won’t need it in the loo.’

  Rachel began scrolling through the missed calls. Then she hit the text button and started typing.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sarah said, eyes darting to the stairs.

  ‘I’m helping.’

  No one said anything about Alis when Catherine came back. Sarah knew it was pointless to try to get her to talk if she didn’t want to. So they settled into their weekend routine, with the newspapers spread all over the kitchen table. They were halfway through the crossword when the doorbell rang.

  Rachel glanced up. ‘I don’t have my shoes on. Will someone else get it?’

  ‘I’m not dressed,’ Sarah said. ‘Catherine, please?’

  As Catherine went to answer the door, Sarah said, ‘Do you think she’ll be mad?’

  Rachel shrugged. ‘She owns a matchmaking business. She can’t be surprised when she gets a dose of her own medicine. Next clue. Sixteen down. Eight letters, starts with S, ends with E: something unexpected.’

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Catherine

  Catherine did a double take when she opened the door. This was not what she was expecting to interrupt her calm Sunday.

  ‘Alis, what are you doing here? And how are you here?’

  She didn’t need to point out that a client turning up on her doorstep wasn’t the usual run of things.

  He adjusted the bulging courier bag on his shoulder. ‘Don’t be angry. Your friend … Rachel? She texted me with your address.’

  ‘How did she know your phone number?’

  ‘She didn’t. She texted from your phone.’

  ‘My phone?’ That sneaky cow.

  ‘You haven’t been taking my calls. Or texts, or emails,’ h
e pointed out, like that was a perfectly reasonable explanation for stalking. ‘Don’t be angry with her.’

  ‘I’m angry with you. You shouldn’t be here.’ But her tummy was betraying her words, the little traitor.

  ‘Well that’s where you’re wrong, Catherine. That might not be something you hear very often, but it’s true. You are wrong. I should be here because we’ve got unfinished business. I need to ask you a question and I’d like a simple yes or no answer, please.’

  She crossed her arms.

  ‘Would you like to go out with me?’

  She sighed. ‘It’s not that simple, Alis.’

  ‘I can’t hear you. Was that a yes or a no?’

  ‘I said it’s not that simple.’

  ‘Because I’m a client?’

  She nodded.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ He grasped her hands. ‘Catherine, you should know that I have the utmost respect for you as a businesswoman and your company is top-notch, but it’ll come as no surprise to you that, between being stood up and set up with women who don’t really want to go out with me, it’s just not working. Plus, actually, I don’t think I need the service any more. I’ve found an incredible woman on my own. So with all due respect, Catherine, you’re fired. Now, let’s go on a date. A real date.’

  ‘You’ve got some nerve, asking me out when you’ve just fired me!’ But she was smiling. ‘You want to go now?’

  ‘No time like the present.’

  ‘Is your Mercury all right?’

  ‘As it happens, it is, thanks. Come on, I have a plan.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘None of your business. Wait and see.’

  She didn’t notice Rachel and Sarah peeking down through the front room window. And she definitely didn’t see them cheering when Alis slipped his hand into hers and led her away.

  They hadn’t gone far before he stopped at a row of city rental bikes. ‘Just a sec.’ Feeding his debit card into the machine, two little slips of paper were spat out that he used to unlock the bikes.

  ‘You want to cycle on London streets?’

  ‘Not on the streets. We’re going along the canal, so you don’t have to worry about cars, and we can walk them on the pavement to the towpath.’ He opened his bag. ‘Here.’ He handed her a round green helmet that was going to make her look like Cartman from South Park. ‘I know you like to play things safe.’