Roger begins to speak and Carole says, ‘No. Enough.’
‘Could I make a suggestion?’ Bea asks. ‘Perhaps, while all the train delays die down, the five of us could go somewhere together? Continue talking, Carole? About whatever you like. You might perhaps even like to stay with one of us tonight? We could go somewhere local, Tom, in case you make contact with Lola.’
‘I’d like that,’ Carole says decisively.
‘I would too.’ I mean it. I instinctively really like this little group of people and somehow it feels as though we’ve formed a bond. I’d love to talk more to them. Plus, I am of course all dressed up and I’d rather not have nowhere to go.
‘That would be great, actually.’ Tom shoves his phone back in his pocket, clearly still not having received any kind of response from Lola. Presumably he’s very worried and would like to continue to be distracted.
‘There’s an excellent tapas place a few minutes away. We could go there?’ Ruth suggests. ‘Our treat if anyone’s hungry; we’d love to have dinner with you.’
‘We would. And Ilovethe sound of “our” and “we”,’ says Bea.
‘Me too.’ Ruth smiles at her and, honestly, it’s gorgeous.
I glance at Tom and see that he can’t help smiling at the sight of them, just like I can’t. I really hope he getshishappy ending this evening.
‘That sounds perfect, thank you,’ Carole says.
Roger’s eyes swivel between the five of us a few times, and then he just turns round and shuffles away.
The rest of us (after realising that, amidst all the drama, none of us had reassured loved ones who might have heard that there was an issue at Waterloo, and shooting off a few messages to say that we’re okay) join the large crowd of people heading out of the station.
There’s already this sense between us – well, I feel it, and Ithinkthe others do too – that we’ve become a little group. It feels similar to that thing you see on a reality show where there’s an initial group that arrive and bond really fast and then if anyone else gets introduced to the group, even only a few hours later, it’s like they’re interlopers. I think we’ve bonded very quickly, just like that.
We’re jostled a lot and make sure we stay together; we match our pace to Ruth’s (she’s apparently had a knee operation fairly recently and isn’t back to her top walking speed yet); we laugh together about a couple of small incidents on the way out; and, honestly, it doesn’t feel a stretch to say that I’ve made four unlikely new friends under the clock this evening.
About fifteen minutes later, we’re seated at a table towards the back of the tapas place. There’s a man on a little platform halfway up the back wall playing a guitar, the air’s buzzing with chat, tantalising smells are wafting their way over to us from neighbouring tables, Tom’s phone has reception so he doesn’t have to worry that he’ll miss a call from Lola, and even Carole’s smile looks less forced now.
Basically, it’s looking like awaybetter evening for me than a blind date would have been.
‘Do you all drink?’ asks Bea. ‘I’d love to order a bottle of champagne to celebrate our news. If that’s alright, Carole. I don’t want to be insensitive.’
‘Okay, let’s get this out immediately,’ says Carole. ‘You’re lovely people. I’m very lucky to have met you this evening, because Ineeded– need – some loveliness around me right now. I’m happy for you. I want to be distracted. Please don’t feel that you’re being insensitive towards me. You aren’t. I’d love to help you celebrate. In fact, if I may, I’ll celebrate on my own behalf too. It’s the start of a new life for me, one that I hadn’t expected, but if I’m honest, there are downsides to living with Roger.’
We all nod, because, well, yes. Roger and downsides. Not difficult to imagine.
And then Ruth orders the champagne and some tap water, and we all start looking at the menu.
Tom glances at his phone – there’s been no reply to the message he sent to Lola telling her in great detail where we are – and I quickly check mine too.
Obviously, there’s no word from Dougie.
‘Are you worried too?’ Ruth asks me.
‘No.’ I take a lovely big, long sip of the champagne the waiter’s just poured for us and as it goes down feel myself warm inside. And then (itcannotbe because of just one sip of champagne; it must be the strange bonding thing we’ve had going on), I find myself doing what the others have all done, and splurging my thoughts.
‘Basically, this evening I was supposed to be meeting a blind date, as I mentioned. I have a terrible record with blind dates and meeting people from apps.Terrible. They always go very badly. So I had actually decided to stop doing them, and wait for love if and when it hits. Except it never does, and Iwouldlike to meet someone. So when a colleague said that his flatmate would be perfect for me, and I’d be perfect forhim, I was too easily persuaded into agreeing to meet this evening. And the flatmate clearly either didn’t turn up at all, or he did and saw me and scarpered.’
‘Logically—’ Tom takes a piece of bread ‘—he did not turn up, see you and leave, because he couldn’t have seen you before you saw him. So he obviously just decided not to turn up and didn’t let you know. So he’s obviously a rude arse and you’ve had a lucky escape and it’s no reflection whatsoever on you.’
‘Hmm.’ I consider this for a moment. ‘But itfeelslike a reflection. Maybe the way my colleague described me put him off.’
‘I mean.’ Tom’s phone pings and his eyes slide to it and then back to me. Clearly not Lola. ‘No. That just isn’t likely. The most likely thing is that he got blind-date cold feet, as in he didn’t want to go on a blind date at all. A lot of people don’t. I’ve never been on one.’
‘Really?’ I amsoenvious. I wouldlovenever to have been on one. And never to go on one again. (I need to develop better willpower.) ‘But how do you meet people? Do dating apps work for you?’
‘No, I’ve always just kind of met people in real life. Uni. Work. Barbecues. The usual. Apart from the odd weird one.’
