Swipe Right

by Stephie Chapman

  I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. Dumbo’s mum! Sinjin looks indignant.

  ‘Narla! Bet it was Narla.’

  ‘Sinjin, you don’t have to tell us,’ I say, giving him an out in case he feels put upon.

  ‘It was Maid Marian. Okay?’ he gasps. ‘The fox. You happy now?’

  ‘Hey, man, no judgement,’ Carlina says, holding up her hands. ‘Like Mickey said, totally normal.’

  ‘Okay, great,’ he mumbles, and I feel for him; between Carlina’s huge and all-encompassing personality, and impressionable Mickey, he doesn’t stand a chance.

  Sinjin puts his headphones on and twists himself away from us, and he doesn’t say anything to any of us until lunchtime.

  ‘Go easy on Sinjin, yeah?’ I say, whilst Carlina and I are picking out sandwiches in Pret. She whips around and stares at me.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘I mean… Dumbo’s mum? Bit much, perhaps. Can we remember to be kind.’

  ‘He started it,’ she pouts. ‘It was only a joke, anyway.’

  ‘Right, and I do appreciate things are sometimes not as… harmonious… as they could be. But if you could just not wind him up, I’d appreciate it.’

  ‘Are you going to tell him this, as well?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You know what would be good right now?’ she says, changing the subject. She does this to signal that a conversation is very much finished. Even a conversation with her line manager about kindness towards other team members. I’m never entirely sure that I’ve got through to her. She’s not always the easiest to manage.

  ‘A nice cold pint in the sun?’

  ‘Ooh yes, and a fag. But that aside.’

  I know what she’s going to say.

  ‘You tell me, Carlina. What would be good right now?’

  ‘A little swipe.’

  ‘Nope. That’s done.’

  ‘Just a teeny one.’ She holds her thumb and forefinger up to measure how tiny a swipe we could have.

  ‘Still no. I’m not doing that anymore, remember?’

  And I’m not. I’ve felt freer even just this morning than I have in ages. I’ve not kept checking my phone for messages. I’ve not looked for matches. I’ve not had to sift through photos of guys holding giant fish, or on top of mountains next to trigpoints, or gym mirror selfies, neck muscles flexed, tiny little calves peeking out where they have repeatedly neglected leg day.

  ‘What shall we do instead?’ she asks.

  ‘Eat lunch and go back to work,’ I say. We wander into the park and sit on a bench. Carlina rolls a cigarette and lights it. She tilts her head backwards, taking in long drags and breathing out smoke rings. And whilst she does this, I take out my phone and text Ollie, putting my phone on silent so that Carlina doesn’t ask who I’m speaking to.

  * * *

  Fran

  How’s things today?

  Ollie

  I haven’t got up yet.

  Fran

  It’s almost 2! Lazy arse!

  Ollie

  Yeah… let’s pretend it’s jetlag.

  Fran

  No but really, how are things?

  Ollie

  Bit shit. Think I lost my RHCP t-shirt out there. Pretty certain I left it in Lou’s bag. Think I can ask for it back?

  Fran

  No. That’s gone. I’m sorry. You loved that t-shirt.

  Ollie

  Fuck’s sake. Why did she do it?

  Because she’s the meanest girl in the world, I type, and then swiftly delete it. He’d be gutted if I sent that. I never let on that I didn’t like her.

  Fran

  I don’t know. Travelling can really bring out some strange behaviour in people.

  * * *

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Carlina asks. She’s closed her eyes now, shielding them from the low autumn sun with her arms crossed over her face.

  ‘Just Instagram,’ I say. ‘Nothing important.’

  * * *

  Suze is pottering when I get home. She throws some pasta in a pan whilst I sit on the counter and tell her about my day, and about how early it started.

  ‘Ollie’s back,’ I say. I kept his secret at work but he’s never met Suze so I don’t feel bad for sharing the news with her.

  ‘Already? How long were they gone for?’

  ‘Just a couple of months in the end.’

  Suze scrunches up her face. ‘They managed to see the whole world in a couple of months?’

  ‘No, not even close. She dumped him. He’s back. She’s still out there.’

  Suze raises her eyebrows.

  ‘I did wonder how well they’d cope with being in each other’s pockets twenty-four seven,’ she nods, sagely. ‘Especially when you said they weren’t living together. It might seem like a really fun adventure, but travelling can be stressful when you’re shifting from one place to another, and you have to be on top of visas and you’re staying in places that maybe aren’t all that nice—’

  ‘Oh, no,’ I interrupt. ‘No. There’s no way they were staying anywhere less than four stars. Lou would have been expecting villas and huts on stilts in the sea, with butlers.’

  I bet that fruit-picking they did was the hardest she’d ever worked in her life.

  ‘Bet that’s partly what did it then. A difference in expectations. Bet he was more willing to have the backpacker experience and work his way around the world and she just wanted everything brought to her on a gilded plate.’

  ‘Probably. Anyway, we’re going for a drink on Friday.’

  ‘Sounds like he could do with a friend,’ she says, stirring through some pesto and dishing up.

  ‘Yep,’ I say, and look forlornly out of the window. The couple in the flat directly across from us are doing yoga in front of their TV. They lift themselves up off the floor, in perfect sync, to downward dog position and hold it. Then they both arc their legs up at exactly the same time almost as if choreographed.

  ‘Try not to shag him though.’ She winks at me and hands me a plate.

  ‘Eh? Where did that come from?’

  ‘Experience. He’ll be all sad and vulnerable. He might want a shoulder to cry on. Nothing good ever comes from being the shoulder-to-cry-on rebound shag.’

  ‘Well, aren’t you full of advice and opinions tonight?’ I say.

  Suze shrugs. ‘Been there, done that. Had the awkward brew in the morning.’

  ‘Who was it?’

  ‘No one I’m still friends with, things were too weird afterwards. I saw on Facebook that he got married last year. It just fucked everything up. I told myself for ages after that it was because I was flying so often and that was what got in the way of our friendship, but actually the fact we couldn’t look each other in the eye the next morning probably had more to do with it.’

  ‘Something similar happened to Carlina,’ I say. ‘Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’ll just be a quick catch-up and he’ll be back on the tube by nine.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to let me know how it goes, I’m off early on Friday morning.’

  Now yoga couple are doing shoulder stands. They cross their legs and curl them right over towards their chins, still entirely in sync and completely controlled. If I tried that, I’d probably queef.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Ollie’s already waiting for me outside Stratford station on Friday when I return from work and I know it’s him before he even turns around. Adidas trainers, skinny jeans, a slightly out of shape t-shirt, his retro Puma bag. What was I expecting? Harem pants, and unkempt facial hair? A quilted, grubby patchwork jacket and sandals? A necklace made of shells or animal teeth? It’s as if he never went away. I manage to walk right over to him and tap him on the back before he turns around.

  ‘Ello, stranger,’ I say.

  ‘Frances Tatlin!’ he beams, and he pulls me in close for a hug, and I’m so happy to see him that I don’t let go for ages.

  ‘Alright, steady on,’ he
laughs, pulling away.

  ‘Sorry. That’s a nice suntan you have going on there,’ I say, still holding him at arm’s length and taking him in. Despite everything, he looks well.

  ‘Well, a few weeks away will do that,’ he shrugs, and I feel a bit sad about the fact that he’s whittled his huge, exciting, life-changing trip down to just a few weeks away. He nods towards the station entrance. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, taking his arm. ‘I thought we’d head to Westfield, and just find somewhere that takes our fancy.’

  We end up at a pub on the basis of a table becoming free just as we walk in and Ollie goes straight to the bar, returning with our drinks.

  ‘The stars aligned for us,’ he grins, ‘there was barely even a queue.’

  ‘To you being back, then,’ I say. ‘And to the alignment of burning balls of gas up in the sky.’ We chink glasses.

  ‘How’s life at the Hive?’ he asks.

  ‘Much the same,’ I say, purposely not telling him about the boob pic drama from the previous week. ‘Except Carlina and Sinjin had beef.’

  ‘Yeah? Let me guess, Carlina said something snippy and he took umbrage.’

  ‘Yes, but she was only finishing what he started. We were perving over Disney characters… as you do, and Sinjin implied that cartoon crushes are stupid, and Carlina took it way too far. Said she bet he had a crush on Dumbo’s mum. And you could see he was uncomfortable.’

  Ollie raises his eyebrows and smirks.

  ‘Was it Dumbo’s mum, though?’

  ‘Close but no cigar. Maid Marian.’

  ‘Obvious choice.’

  ‘Same for you then?’

  ‘Nah,’ he says, without missing a beat. ‘Duchess from The Aristocats.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I can see that.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Robin Hood for all of us.’

  ‘That’s why you work so well as a team. Oh my god, Fran, that’s it! Those animated foxes are the link. Otherwise you’re a random bunch of misfits.’

  ‘Jesus, I think you might actually be right. Okay, well that’s a new interview question for the future, then. “Who is hotter? Tramp or Pongo? Lumière or The Beast?”’

  ‘It’s definitely a winner,’ Ollie laughs. ‘What did you say to Sinjin?’

  ‘Told him to stop being judgemental, basically.’

  ‘And to Carlina?’

  ‘Ah, that Sinjin is a sensitive soul and to not wind him up. Dunno if she was listening though. We were out for lunch and she just wanted me to swipe through Tinder with her.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Ollie looks thoughtful and sips his beer.

  ‘You should try and come back. You’re very missed.’

  ‘Ah, Fran. I dunno. Being away gave me a really good chance to take stock. Maybe it was the right time to move on anyway.’

  And right there, sitting with him in a pub in Stratford City, a little piece of my heart breaks. I had held on to the notion, definitely fuelled by his plan to work at the Sydney office, that when they returned he might come back and things would be normal again. That one day he’d just rock up and sit down at his desk and start producing videos like he’d never been away. That he’d interrupt my team meetings with a coffee, and take me out for lunch. That I’d get my best friend back. But now, sitting here, hearing him say this, has really hammered home that things aren’t the same, and they’re not going to be.

  ‘Oh. Okay,’ I say. ‘Well, they gave Ben your job anyway. And I’m losing Sinjin to your old team.’ I study his face as he nods, and I know he’s weighing up how that dynamic will work. ‘Do you have other plans?’ I say, tentatively.

  ‘Don’t worry, Fran.’ He nudges my arm. ‘I’m staying in London.’

  ‘Good,’ I say, and nod to our now empty glasses. ‘Want another?’

  I’m three rosés deep before I bite the bullet and ask a bit more about what happened with Lou, and Ollie looks mournful and stares at his hands for a bit before telling me.

  ‘It was just shit, Fran,’ he says. ‘I thought we were having a nice time, actually a great time. And then we get to Thailand and she’s just distant with me. Hardly spoke to me at all and just stayed on her phone the entire time and got really shirty when I suggested switching it off for a bit.’

  ‘Hmmm. Bit shady,’ I say.

  ‘Exactly. And we’d met other backpackers out there and she’d started spending time with this one guy, and I checked her phone location but she wasn’t where she’d said she was going to be, which obviously got me worried, because really, we didn’t know these people well. So I went to where her phone was, and…’ he trails off. I can’t ask him any more.

  ‘I just can’t believe it,’ I say. ‘It’s all so unbelievably callous.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he sighs. ‘But that long flight gave me a lot of time to think.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Getting back out there, you know? Enjoying the single life for a while. My cousin rang yesterday, and he was brutal, but in a good way. In the best way. He actually said Lou was holding me back a bit. What do you think?’

  ‘I… er…’

  I need to tread carefully here, but I don’t want to lie. ‘I found her a bit difficult,’ I admit. ‘Hard to read. We didn’t really vibe.’

  ‘She didn’t like you very much. It got to be a bit of a sore point.’

  ‘Oh really?’ I ask, as if I didn’t already know exactly how she felt about me. ‘Well, fuck her then. Silly cow.’

  ‘Good god, Fran, don’t hold back.’

  ‘Well, what did I ever do to her?’

  ‘I don’t know. Nothing,’ he muses. ‘That she knows of, anyway.’

  ‘Quite,’ I say, knocking back a bit more of my drink and knowing exactly what he’s referring to. ‘Well, maybe your cousin is on to something. Get back in the saddle. Plenty more fish in the sea, et cetera, et cetera.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ he says, and there’s a gleam in his eyes now. ‘And I was also hoping you’d help me.’

  ‘I’m not setting you up with Suze,’ I say. ‘No way. Don’t even ask!’

  ‘That’s totally not where I was going with that. I was hoping you’d help me write my Tinder bio. I mean, you’re pretty au fait with all these apps, right? You know what you’re looking for. What makes you swipe right?’

  ‘Um… a nice picture. A profile that shows a bit of personality. Positives rather than negatives. No politics. Although, saying that, maybe if Louis had indicated he was basically a member of UKIP I’d have saved myself a lot of grief.’

  ‘Ah but you’d have missed out on a very entertaining story.’

  ‘If you say so,’ I say, grimly. I still can’t bring myself to mention what Lydia told me. So far nothing’s been sent in. Or if it has, Sarah from IT has handled it.

  ‘So will you help me?’

  ‘Er, sure. When?’

  ‘Now?’ he asks. ‘No time like the present.’ He unlocks his phone and opens up the app. So far, so blank. A grey default image. No information and no personality.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to wait a bit? You know, let the dust settle. Lick your wounds and all that?’

  ‘Uh, definitely not,’ he says.

  ‘But, you’ve been with Lou for ages…’

  ‘I know,’ he says, quietly. His eyes dart around and he won’t look at me. I touch his hand and he looks down at it.

  ‘Are you sure there’s no way back?’

  ‘Pretty sure,’ he says, quickly, wrinkling up his nose. ‘She made herself very clear.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m really a great judge of character, to be honest… It’s not like I’ve had any sort of luck with this. I’ve had the worst luck with this.’

  ‘Fran, please? I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t trust you.’

  He looks so earnest and his eyes are sad. I can’t refuse him. I just want him to feel better, and if that means writing an online dating bio for him, well then that’s what I need to do. I take the phone an
d make a start. Swipe through the photos and pick out a few that are appealing. Happy, smiling Ollie, looking calm and chilled in one. Holding a pint in another. Sitting on Primrose Hill, looking back at the camera in another, and finally one that’d put me off if he came up on my feed because there’s a female in it, but it’s one that I haven’t seen before and it catches my eye because the female is me. We’re standing in the Viral Hive test kitchen at opposite sides of the island, deep in conversation, grinning at each other, a plate of food between us, leaning in and shutting everyone else out like the world is entirely ours. And this photo shows a projection of us that I hadn’t seen before. Or perhaps just refused to acknowledge. If this is what Carlina sees when she looks at us it’s no wonder she doesn’t believe me when I insist we’re not into each other. Because in this photo it’s so glaringly obvious that we are. This photo of us makes my palms sweaty. It speeds up my heartbeat. It makes me want a calming hit of nicotine. It makes me want to relive our kiss. It makes me want to do it again.

  ‘Who took this?’ I ask. There’s a noticeable croak in my voice. Suddenly I’m hyper aware that our arms are touching.

  ‘Carlina,’ he shrugs.

  ‘It was the day Yummo made those buffalo cauliflower things,’ I say. ‘She’s never shown me this. I didn’t even know it existed.’

  I’m amazed I haven’t seen this. But why haven’t I? Why does Ollie get a copy and I don’t? Why aren’t I at least tagged?

  ‘Oh, well I’ll send it to you. Airdrop?’

  ‘Yeah… thanks,’ I say. ‘Anyway, it’s a nice picture. You look… great, actually. Use that one.’

  ‘So what happens now? You list all my best qualities?’

  ‘Sure,’ I say, quickly, still looking at the photo. ‘If you like. Let me think.’

  ‘Not that hard is it?’ he laughs, when I’m still staring at the photo a good while later. ‘You alright, Fran? You look a bit spooked.’