‘Toss a coin?’ I suggest. Usually, I’d be polite and ask if she’d like to go first, but politeness has no place in a serious contest.
Freya nods and I pull my wallet out.
‘Got no coins,’ I say, a moment later.
‘Me neither.’
I ask the bartender if he has one.
‘Only if you buy something else,’ he tells me. ‘Can’t open the till otherwise.’
‘Honestly,’ says Freya. ‘Everything about this situation is ridiculous, including the fact that apparently it’s really hard for two adults to find a coin.’
‘What about using a nut instead of a coin?’ The bartender picks one up from a little bowl on the bar and puts his hands behind his back. ‘Which hand?’ he asks Freya.
‘Right.’
‘Left. Sorry.’ He puts the nut back in the bowl and licks his hand. I glance at Freya to see how she’s reacted to the lack of hygiene and see that she’s just staring at him.
I snigger a little internally and then say, ‘Well, thank you. I guess I won, then.’
Freya drags her gaze from the nut bowl and says, ‘Enjoy this tiny victory while it lasts.’ Then she smiles. I don’t like that smile. It’s too confident. I don’t want Freya to be confident about this. Although… with confidence does often come failure, so… yeah, maybe this is good.
I return her smile, and then realise that I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to get Freya to fall in love with someone. I need time to prepare.
‘As the winner of the nut-hand choosing—’ I do a confident smile of my own ‘—I’ll allow you to go first.’
‘You’llallowme?’
‘Yep.’
‘Howextremelykind of you.’ Freya stretches a hand out in the direction of the nut bowl before obviously recalling what the waiter did and withdrawing her hand. She smiles at me. I’d have to describe it as a complacent smile. ‘You havenoidea what to do next, have you?’ She’s obviously right, which annoys me.
I do my best scornful laugh. ‘I haveeveryidea of what to do next. I just want to see whatyou’regoing to do.’
Freya looks right into my eyes for a moment, and then smiles.
‘I’m going to win,’ she says. ‘And on a more granular level, I’m going to organise an evening out for you next week. Are we thinking the same evening every week, or more random ones?’
‘Tuesday every week?’ I don’t want to give up a Friday or Saturday to this ridiculous challenge. Plus it’ll be easier to arrange dates on evenings on which people aren’t usually busy. Although. What if one of us finds something like speed-dating to help things along the way? That might be a weekend thing. ‘As a general rule. But I’d suggest that we ought to agree that we can change the evening by mutual consent. And that we both – obviously – have to be reasonable. If the other has a very good reason and gives sufficient notice and we’re free.’
‘Of course.’ Freya’s laughing, and – irritatingly – I think she’s genuinely amused. She has this dimple that appears when she laughs, which makes me think of my friend Dan, a self-confessed sucker for a cheek dimple. Objectively, it’s what a lot of people would call very cute. Subjectively, she’sfartoo confident about this challenge and it’s incredibly annoying.
I decide that I would like to go home. ‘Next Tuesday, then? And you’ll let me know what time and where?’
‘Yep.’ She picks up her bag and slides off her bar stool. The way she does it irritates me. It’s too obviously graceful, almost like a choreographed slide would be.
‘Will you be okay getting home by yourself?’ I feel I should ask, even though I really don’t want to.
‘That’s a very kind thought. Thank you.’ She’s sounding sarcastic again. ‘Yes, I will. I’m going to get a cab to Waterloo and then a train. Quicker than a cab all the way, however much I’d like to spendWake Up Britain’s money.’
‘Great. I’ll wait to hear from you then.’ I’m not going tochooseto spend any more time with her than I have to. ‘I’m just going to finish my drink.’ I am not. It’s far too sweet. I’m going to give her a few minutes and then go home, do another hour’s work and then go to bed.
‘Okay. Night.’ And there’s that dimple again. Frankly, I feel she must do it on purpose, to disarm people.
Well, I will not be disarmed.
I watch her walk gracefully across the room and out of the door. Objectively, she looks very attractive in her wide greenish trousers and cream silky shirt. Well, sheisvery (physically) attractive, which is a good thing for my mission. I just need to find someone who only cares about looks and doesn’t mind about howincrediblyannoying she is.
