‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘I mean you’ve pretty much slept with every over-entitled blonde under fifty in London, right?’
‘How dare you!’ he replies, pouting slightly. ‘But yeah, that’s fair.’
‘So how about going on a date with someone with a bit of substance? A real woman. Someone who doesn’t draw on her eyebrows and—’
‘Nick, what the hell are you talking about?’
I excitedly move round on the couch to face him. ‘I met this woman yesterday. Total ten. And she’s nice. Like super nice. Caring and funny. . . makes Avengers jokes.’
Maybe I’m overselling Alfie’s mum here, given that our interaction yesterday was only a few seconds long, but her son is adorable so she’s very unlikely to be Aileen Wuornos.
Matt thinks for a moment then narrows his eyes.
‘If she’s so great, why don’t you ask her out? You’re single now, apparently.’
I shake my head. ‘Ange said she wanted some space; it’ll blow over. Besides, look at me. This woman deserves someone who isn’t a complete frickin’ disaster.’
‘I dunno, mate. . . maybe. What’s her name?’
‘No idea.’
‘How can you not know her—’
‘Listen, I can’t explain but I have a very good feeling about this. Just say yes and I’ll do the rest. I’ll get you a name and a number and everything. Please. Look at me. I need this.’
Matt laughs and puts down his mug.
‘OK, fine. I don’t think Leanne will be back anyway, after seeing the state of you last night. It didn’t seem to go down well when I handed her the bra off the floor either, given that she was already wearing hers.’
‘So, you’ll do it?’
‘Yes, but I’m doing this for you, you weird, weird man.’
‘Yaass!’ I exclaim, punching the air. ‘You won’t regret it. . . one thing, though. Don’t be your usual shagger self. . . you know what I mean. Respect her.’
‘Yeah, alright, Oprah.’
‘Amazing! Right, I have to head into work. This is going to be so good.’
‘You might want to shower and Febreze the shit out of that Santa costume, mate. No offence, but you smell rank.’
He’s right, of course, I stink, but I’m not offended. What I am is a genius. An honest-to-God, Christmas-miracle-performing genius.
I arrive into work half an hour early, cleaned up and carrying my Santa suit which now smells ‘April Meadows Fresh’. I’m hoping Alfie’s mum is working today and if not, I’ll at least get her name from one of the other staff. I’ll grab another coffee too. Matt can’t make a decent coffee for shit.
I walk into Belle Blend and head to the counter, trying to be as casual as possible.
‘Americano with cold milk, please,’ I request, scanning the room.
‘Sit in or takeaway?’
‘Takeaway, thanks.’
I spot her. Third table near the back. She’s wearing her hair back today, but it’s definitely her. I shift from foot to foot, willing the barista to hurry up, but it looks like there’re a couple of orders before mine.
Act natural, Nick. You might be about to change this woman’s life, but don’t be creepy about it. You were cool once. Channel your twenties.
