Love Offline

by Olivia Spring

  In fact, just to prove that I was not judgemental like Rory, I was going to stay. I wasn’t going home. I was going to sit and chat with this guy and keep an open mind.

  ‘Yes! Fancy meeting you here…Henry,’ I laughed as I leant in to read his badge, then sat down.

  ‘I tell you what, Emily, my mate has a lot to answer for setting me up on this thing. I’ve never even been to a Leon before. He’s the one who’s into all that healthy food. I’m more of a bacon butty or pub grub kind of guy. And as for this speed dating malarkey, I didn’t even know people still did this stuff.’

  ‘Exactly!’ I said. ‘My friend set me up on this too.’

  ‘Let me guess: she told you to get off the apps and find yourself a bloke before you died alone?’ he quipped.

  ‘Well, not quite that dramatic,’ I said, ‘but yes, something along those lines.’

  ‘Well-meaning mates, eh!’ he raised his eyebrows. ‘So,’ he said, smiling warmly, ‘how’s it going tonight? Any of these blokes tickled your fancy? Apart from meeting me and of course realising that I’m your soulmate, you having any joy?’ he chuckled.

  ‘Hmmm,’ I huffed. ‘Let’s just say I’ve met some interesting characters.’

  ‘Okay…’ he said, understanding my meaning of interesting. ‘Enough said.’

  ‘So,’ I said, tilting my head to attempt to flirt a little, ‘reckon you’re my soulmate, then, do you, Henry?’

  ‘I’d like to hope so, but I won’t get too big for my boots. I’ll let you be the judge of that.’ He winked. ‘Tell you what, though, that’d definitely make both our matchmaking mates happy, wouldn’t it? And just imagine, when people asked how we met, saying it was in a restaurant would sound much better than saying we liked each other’s Snapchat-filtered photos on Tinder and decided to swipe right!’ He let out a wicked laugh.

  ‘I like your thinking!’ I said.

  ‘Glad to hear it. See!’ Henry teased. ‘I knew we were soulmates!’

  The four minutes flew by. We didn’t even get round to asking all the stock what do you do for work/where do you live/how long have you been single? questions. We were too busy giggling about the awkwardness of dating. I liked him. I found him attractive, he was funny and down-to-earth, and it felt like we had a connection. I thought so anyway.

  I supposed Chloe was right. If I’d been using a dating app, I might have ruled someone like Henry out just because I’d looked at a few photos and automatically assumed he wasn’t my type. Like she’d said, at least with speed dating, I only had to invest a few minutes of my time with each guy rather than spending hours texting, arranging to meet up for a drink, then finding out we didn’t click.

  The rest of the evening whizzed past. I think I ‘dated’ about eighteen guys in the end. I didn’t feel the same connection as I did with Henry, though. He was definitely going on my shortlist.

  At the end of the event I gave Kelly my list of favourites (just Henry, who had left straight away as he had an early start, and another guy called Paul, who to be honest I wasn’t sure about but thought I’d hedge my bets). I considered staying but thought I’d better quit whilst I was ahead and make my way home.

  I patted myself on the back. I’d survived another solo activity. Yeah, I’d come across a few dodgy guys and had some pretty awkward moments with several others, but Henry had given me a glimmer of hope.

  Two and a half weeks in and I’d met a guy that I fancied. Was the feeling mutual, though?

  The organisers said they’d email details of matches by noon tomorrow, which meant in approximately fourteen hours, I would find out…

  Chapter Ten

  ‘So this is different. Enjoying breakfast in a coffee shop on a Saturday morning with my bestie. Reminds me of my carefree pre-kids days, which feels like about a century ago,’ said Chloe.

  ‘It’s different for me too. Not the kids bit, obviously. More the fact that I’d normally be chilling in bed, scrolling through Instagram looking at pictures of what other people were having for breakfast and debating whether or not to get up before or after midday.’

  ‘Lucky cow!’ said Chloe. ‘Even at six years old, Violet still insists on waking me up at the crack of dawn, including on weekends. I’d kill to have a lie-in until noon. If I could, I certainly wouldn’t be scrolling through social sodding media, that’s for sure. What a waste of valuable life. Speaking of which, how is your digital detox coming along?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, taking a bite from my blueberry muffin. ‘I’m not going to lie. I’m still using social media—’

  ‘Oh, Emily!’ tutted Chloe like a disapproving mother.

  ‘It’s only been three weeks.’ Even though I knew this Saturday technically marked the start of week four, it still hadn’t been that long. I didn’t know why she was so surprised.

  ‘I reckon you’ve got that Social Media Anxiety Disorder thing I was reading about. You’re one of those people who can’t go more than a couple of hours without checking their phones and who lie about how much time they spend online. You’re a classic case. If you’re spending seven hours a day scrolling, messaging and posting, then you’re not going to have enough time to do things in real life.’

  ‘I’m not that bad!’ I said. It was true. I didn’t spend seven hours a day online. According to Screen Time on my iPhone, when I’d checked last week, it was more like six. I’d made progress, though. Before, it wasn’t unusual for me to check every hour. But now it was around four or five times a day. Okay. Maybe more on the evenings that I was at home and perhaps a bit less when I had somewhere to go. I don’t remember checking it at all that night I went speed dating.

  ‘Not to mention the damage you’re doing to your mental health,’ Chloe sighed. ‘Feeling depressed because you’re comparing yourself to everyone else who has the perfect body, job, husband, home, and children and goes to every fancy place known to man. Oh and then there’s the eye strain, neck pains, back problems and putting on weight from just sitting around staring down at your phone all day. Seriously, Em, I don’t know why you do it to yourself.’

  Talk about Mrs Doom and Gloom. I knew she had a point, though. After posting that photo of me dressed up for the singles’ party, I was so anxious. I kept refreshing my feed every thirty seconds, worrying what other people would think. Terrified that I’d either be ignored or criticised. I kept scrutinising how I looked and was so close to deleting the image altogether. And then, when the likes started coming in, I got a rush of excitement. I thought: Someone likes my photo!

  I was on a high. For a little while anyway. I’d hoped I would have got a few more comments. Maybe I didn’t look good that night after all.

  Posting photos always felt a bit like weighing myself. If I was happy with the number on the scales, or in this case, the number of likes, my mood went up. But if I wasn’t, I felt down. I’d constantly compare the likes I’d received for a new photo to previous posts and check what other people had got for theirs.

  Pretty sad really. But even though I knew it was toxic, somehow it was addictive. After using social media for years, it was going to be hard to break the habit, so I’d probably continue to go through the same stressful cycle every time I posted something.

  ‘I hear you, and I’m getting better. Whilst I’m still using social media, I’m not on it as much. Although, does WhatsApp count?’

  ‘Not that I’m an expert of course, but I suppose not, as technically you’re having meaningful conversations with people you’ve actually met in real life.’

  ‘Good, as I’ve been using that more to keep in touch with Kat and Rob from the singles’ party. Rob set up a group chat he’s called “The Diamonds,” because he said we’re two of the loveliest ladies he’s met.’

  ‘Ah, sweet!’

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ I said. ‘He sends us jokes and funny videos to brighten up our day. He also admitted he’s using us to help him figure out how women work. Truth is, I’m hoping Rob can give me a better understanding of how the male brai
n works too.’

  ‘Good luck with that! Seriously, though, it’s great to hear you’ve found two new friends. They sound lovely. Okay, so that’s social media. What about the dating apps? Have you managed to stay off those?’

  ‘Hmm, if I’m completely honest, I have been surfing occasionally. But again, not as much. You can’t expect me to stop immediately, Chloe—it’s a process. I need to wean myself off them slowly.’

  On the days that I had activities, I hardly used the apps, but on my days off from Chloe’s challenge, I was still at home on my own with nothing to do, and my hands were so used to holding my phone that it was so easy to just log on to see if I’d had any messages—and to, you know, window shop. I hadn’t actually messaged anyone new since Kane, though, so again, I was making some progress.

  ‘Fair enough. Hopefully in the next week or two you’ll be so busy with dates that you won’t even have time to think about apps.’

  ‘Well. On the subject of dates, looks like I have one tonight—’ I said, trying to act coy but doing a happy dance in my head.

  ‘Tonight? What? You kept that one quiet! Who with? Where did you meet him? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Chloe looked so excited that she could literally burst out of her skin at any second.

  ‘We matched at speed dating on Tuesday, and I didn’t mention it because you said we’d catch up on everything today. And secondly, I wanted to wait to see if he’d cancel. We’re supposed to be meeting at seven p.m., so there’s still approximately eight hours for him to do that, of course,’ I said, still embarrassed about bailing on Kane.

  ‘Crumbs! This is exciting, Em! Why did you start off telling me about the walking trip when you had real news to share? You’ve got a date, who you didn’t meet online. Yes!’

  ‘One latte and a tea?’ said the waiter as he put our mugs down on the table.

  ‘Ooh, hello! Yes, that’s us. Thank you, handsome.’ Chloe winked. He blushed and headed back behind the counter.

  ‘You little flirt!’ I said. She was right, though. He was cute.

  ‘He’s a dish!’ said Chloe. ‘Is he new? Don’t remember seeing him before.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him before either, so he must be.’

  ‘You should definitely get his number.’

  ‘Chloe! I am not asking a waiter at my local coffee shop for his number.’

  ‘Why not? Like I said, he’s a real hunk!’

  Hunk? Haven’t heard that word in donkey’s years. Classic Chloe.

  ‘I agree, but anyway—how did we even get on to this when I was telling you all about my date?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Sorry! Who is this mystery man? What’s his name? Where are you going? And never mind him changing his mind. The million-dollar question is are you sure you are actually going to turn up for this date?’

  ‘Ha ha, very funny,’ I scoffed. ‘At the moment, I have every intention of going. I like him.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that. Start from the beginning, then, Em. I need to know everything!’

  I filled her in on speed dating, including my run-in with Rude Rory, how quickly Henry and I had clicked, the excitement I’d felt when I’d received the email from the organisers the following day to say we’d matched. I didn’t match with the other guy, but no big loss.

  ‘So how long was it before he messaged you? Or did you suddenly have a moment of bravery and pluck up the courage to get in touch with him first?’

  ‘If only! Come on. This is me we’re talking about. No. I waited, and thankfully he WhatsApped me that evening to say how glad he was that we’d matched. I thought about waiting until the following morning to reply, but I’ve never been good at that playing it cool stuff, so I messaged back more or less straight away.’

  ‘Oh! Fast work, Robinson. Yeah, it’s a tricky one. Game-playing can get messy. So what happened next?’

  ‘He messaged back on Thursday evening asking if I wanted to meet for a drink on Saturday night, and if so, when and where was good for me. I said yes and suggested London Bridge, and yesterday lunchtime he confirmed seven p.m. inside the tube station.’

  ‘Excellent! So why are you worried about him cancelling? He sounds keen. He messaged you first and suggested meeting for a drink quite quickly without sending you a billion messages first. What’s the problem?’

  ‘That’s kind of the thing. He doesn’t message that much. With all the other guys I’ve spoken to, there’s more chatting, you know? More contact. Regular back-and-forth. More build-up.’

  ‘Well, I think when it comes to all this messaging stuff, in some ways, less is more. After all, you’re not looking for a pen pal. I think it’s good that he’s not constantly messaging. He’s clearly not obsessed with being on his phone 24/7 like you are. He just gets straight to the point. The objective is to meet, so once that’s set, what else is there to talk about?’

  She had a point.

  ‘Arranging to meet quickly rather than messaging hundreds of times a day for ages is definitely preferable,’ Chloe added. ‘And think about it—you haven’t exactly had a good track record with those text spammers, have you?’ She rolled her eyes.

  ‘True. I guess I’m also nervous because I tried looking him up online but couldn’t find him on Facebook or Instagram, which is really strange.’ Apart from Chloe, I didn’t know anyone who wasn’t on at least one social platform.

  ‘For Pete’s sake! I thought you said you were weaning yourself off that nonsense. Not everyone wants to have an online presence, you know. And anyway, not finding him on there is a good thing. Studies show that stalking social networking accounts can lead to increased anxiety when meeting in person. Don’t bother trying to find out about him online. I know you only met once for a few minutes, but just let discovering more about him happen naturally. In real life.’

  Chloe and her studies. I didn’t know how she got the time to read them all in between work and having a husband and kids, plus all the baking she did.

  ‘Well, as he’s not online. Looks like I don’t have a choice, do I?’

  ‘No, you don’t. So come on, then!’ Chloe clapped her hands together like an excited seal. ‘What are you wearing?’

  ‘Well, I wore a dress last time, and seeing as we’ve already met and it’s just a drink, I thought I’d keep it casual, so maybe some jeans and a top.’

  ‘Oh, Em!’ she said loudly. ‘It’s never just a drink. Save the comfy clothing for when you’ve moved in together or got married.’

  I suppose I couldn’t expect Chloe to say anything else. She never slummed it. Take today. She was wearing a red-patterned full skirt and a pristine white top with red lipstick and flats. This was her idea of casual dressing. In all the time I’d known her, I had never once seen her in a tracksuit or jeans like most people wore at weekends.

  “If you always try to look your best, it makes you feel good. Stand straighter. Walk taller,” Chloe would say. Fair enough, but seriously. Who could be bothered to iron big skirts and put on proper make-up every morning? Especially on a Saturday? Not me. Converse, jumper and leggings were definitely more my weekend style.

  ‘For a first date, Em, you have to up the outfit ante. You want to get a shag, don’t you?’

  ‘Chloe!’

  ‘I’m right, though, aren’t I? Unless you’ve been having some secret liaisons you’ve haven’t told me about, it must be almost eight months since you last had some fun between the sheets.’

  ‘Yes, but—I don’t think I can.’ I winced. ‘It’s still so raw.’

  ‘Oh, love,’ said Chloe, touching my shoulder. ‘What’s up? I didn’t know you were having trouble down there. What is it? Cystitis? Thrush?’

  ‘No! I don’t mean downstairs is raw. I mean I’m raw: emotionally. Every time I think about sex, I get those awful flashbacks of walking in on Eric screwing Nicole. I see the look on his face. He was so turned on. He was really into it, you know? Having the time of his life. Telling her she felt so good. He never said that to me. H
e never had that look with me, so clearly I’m rubbish in bed. That’s why he cheated.’

  God, I hated dredging up those memories. Even now, it still hurt. Would I ever be able to get over him?

  ‘Eric was a slimeball. He was probably just trotting out some lines from a porno he watched. He always thought he was a stud. Tallywag. You know I never liked him. I tolerated him for you.’

  ‘I know you did. But you can understand why I’m not in a big rush to jump into bed with another man. I can’t bear the thought of being cheated on again.’ I felt my stomach knotting up. I’d rather have every hair on my body plucked individually with burning hot tweezers than go through that torture again.

  ‘Hold your horses, Em. One step at a time. I know the Eric breakup was really painful—I watched you go through it. But you can’t let one todger’s behaviour turn you into a nun or stop you from living your life. Not all men are cheats, and a good bedroom workout would do you the world of good. Trust me.’

  ‘If you say so. It would be just my luck to pick another toe-rag, though. And maybe I do need a workout, but not on the first date. To be honest, like I said, I’ve been trying not to think about sex and I’ve kind of got so used to not having it. No, I think I need to take things slowly. Ease my way back into this dating thing. I admit. I really enjoyed my conversation with Henry, so I’m willing to at least give this date a go tonight.’

  ‘That’s the spirit, Em,’ said Chloe. ‘Tonight, put on some lacy undies, spritz on your favourite perfume, slip into one of your new dresses and some heels, then go and have some fun!’

  Chapter Eleven

  I’d arrived ten minutes early at London Bridge tube station for my date with Henry, and my heart was racing.