‘I’m going to get us some more wine and let the kids know I’m home,’ I say.
‘Sure.’
They are both in their rooms. Mia is talking to someone on her phone. She glares at me when I walk in.
‘Did you knock?’ she hisses, throwing a contemptuous snarl. My girl is hurting, so I let it go.
‘I’ll be downstairs with Cassie.’
‘Whatever,’ she says, turning her back to me.
Oliver is playing on his laptop. Some computer game that I don’t understand.
‘I’ll come and switch your light off at 10 p.m.’ I get no response.
Back downstairs, Cassie sits with her bare feet curled under her on my cream designer sofa. She’s wearing cropped leggings and a bright blue oversized shirt, which matches the colour of her eyes. Her short spikey hair is currently dyed the hue of redcurrants. It’s not my favourite of hair colours. I preferred the silvery white she sported last month. I top up her wine glass and pour myself a large one. I sit on the armchair opposite her.
‘Perhaps I just need to be by myself for a couple of years,’ I muse.
‘Bollocks to that!’
10
The problem with internet dating is it becomes a bit addictive, that draw to find the perfect one. I may have told Cassie that I’m not interested in having a new relationship, but it’s hard to ignore the likes that pop up on my phone with great regularity. So here I am, at my desk, idly browsing through 4everlove.com when I should be checking through our PR agency’s monthly report. A notification pings through and I pause to study his profile. He has messy dark brown hair, blue eyes and a rakish grin. But best of all, we are a 100% match.
I read his profile. He’s a management consultant, lives in Sussex but travels a lot. He’s been single for four years, looking to commit, and loves travelling. I can’t believe he hasn’t already been swept up.
I click the like button, and a few moments later, he messages me. My heart is thumping. Is this guy for real?
How could I not say hello when we’ve got a 100% match! I’m Patrick, on the train to Manchester for a boring business trip. If you could choose to be stuck on the train with some famous people, who would you choose?
Hi Patrick. I’m Lydia.
He messages again before I can reply.
PS - I’d choose Oprah, Michelle Obama, the Dalai Lama (clichéd but I do want to meet him), James Redfield and Scarlett Johansson! You look like her :)
My stomach does a little leap. I am sure that none of the men I know would have even heard of James Redfield. His book, The Celestine Prophecy, was a game changer for me. Obviously, I wouldn’t choose Scarlett Johansson, but I’d probably choose the others.
Great choices but sadly I don’t look like Johansson! I’d choose Martha Stewart (I’m into crafting!) Michelle Obama, the Dalai Lama and James Redfield too. And Pierce Brosnan for some eye candy!
Damn, can’t compete with Brosnan.
What do you do?
I’m a management consultant – systems etc. Not glamorous, and frustratingly requires a fair bit of UK travel. And you?
I run a crafting business.
That’s interesting. Both my parents had their own businesses. I’m fine going in and telling companies what to do but would make a lousy employee!
Me too! Unemployable…
What do you do when you’re not running your craft emporium?
Two kids keep me busy, but otherwise I like long country walks, good food, knitting complex jumpers. What about you?
Sadly no kids, but I also like long country walks. Have you been up to Chanctonbury Ring recently?
No. Where do you live?
Between Horsham and Crawley. And you?
Horsham!
I’d love to meet you, Lydia. Perhaps you can teach me how to knit!
I’m a lousy teacher but would happily go for a walk.
My finger hovers. I shouldn’t have pressed return. That’s much too forward! Going for a walk… I don’t know anything about this guy, and what if he attacks me on a secluded footpath up on the South Downs? My phone pings again.
If the weather is nice, are you free to go for a walk at the weekend? I’m doing nothing on both days. We could have lunch at the Three Cygnets.
I hesitate. I’d like to do that, but is it safe? Surely it’ll be fine if I leave Find Friends on my phone so that Cassie can track me.
Just need to see if I can get a friend to keep an eye on the kids, but if so, yes, that would be great!
I’ve got to go now, Lydia. Nearly at Piccadilly Station. Let me know about the w/e. Can’t wait to meet you!
Oh my goodness! He didn’t use any juvenile text speak. He didn’t suggest a fancy dinner. He must be into spirituality in some form, if he wants to meet the Dalai Lama and James Redfield. And we’re a one hundred percent match. I jump up from my office chair and do a little jig of joy. Fortunately, no one is passing by my office. For the first time in months, even years, I feel a knot of happy excitement in my sternum.
Both kids have after-school activities this afternoon, so I have plenty of time before I need to collect them from school. Enough time to go to the gym and perhaps meet up with the girls. I send Cassie a message, collect my bag and stride out of my office. I put my head around the corner of the open-plan office.
Nicky looks up and smiles. Five years ago, at our office party, she got hopelessly drunk. Wearing a ridiculously tight black bandage dress, she weaved across the room towards me and flung her arms around me. ‘I love you, Lydia,’ she gabbled. ‘This woman here!’ she shouted at the top of her voice, pointing both her index fingers at me. ‘Believed in me. She’s the only person who ever trusted me. I love you, Lydia!’ She placed a big red lipstick kiss on my cheek. Her colleagues clapped and cheered. Ajay stood up, put his arm around her and gently led her back to her table. Adam was furious.
Needless to say, Nicky was mortified the next day. She sent me an email apologising for her behaviour and offered to resign. I refused her offer, but nevertheless, it took her a good two weeks to be able to look me in the eye again. Whether I have been the only person who trusted her is debatable, but I was certainly one of the first. When I told Adam I was offering her the job, he was livid.
‘She’s been in prison! She’s got a record, and what skills has she got? You’re out of your mind, Lydia. You’ll regret this!’
But I didn’t. Aged seventeen, Nicky served her time for pushing drugs. She’s been clean ever since, and her work ethic is ridiculous. She went to night school to pass her GCSEs, then studied for two A Levels and finally got a BTEC in business. Even now, I have to force her to take her holidays and remind her it’s not necessary for her to be the last person to leave the office. She has a live-in boyfriend these days, so her life is more balanced. I no longer feel a sense of responsibility for her. As for me, I simply couldn’t do without her.
‘I’m leaving now, Nicky. Call me if anything urgent crops up.’
‘Will do, Lydia. Have a good evening.’
‘Lydia, over here!’ Cassie is waving at me from the far side of the coffee shop. I’ve just done a yoga class and am feeling totally chilled and zen. It’s one of the rare occasions I can empty my mind of worries about home and work. If I could, I’d take a yoga class every day of the week. Cassie uses the gym. She’s much more self-disciplined than me, and she enjoys all of those classes, particularly spinning. I think she’s crazy.