‘That I wasn’t an animal lover because I eat them,’ I mutter defiantly like a toddler.
She snorts loudly into the phone. ‘OK, fine, I get why Jasper was a no, but besides the orthodontist, wasn’t thereanyoneyou wanted to see again?’
‘Hmm, maybe that woman in the red dress. She had shiny hair and elegant earrings.’
She sighs. ‘Sophie, if you liked women, you’d have been happily married by now.’
‘True.’
She laughs. ‘You don’t want to date a teeth guy anyway. He’d monitor your floss usage and talk to you while your mouth’s full.’
Now I’m the one snorting.
‘So,’ she continues, ‘speed dating and dating apps are out. What’s next?’
‘Thinking outside the box,’ I inform her. ‘Like singles’ skydiving or something equally ridiculous and life threatening.’
‘Well, there’s a woman in my art class who met her husband while she was running.’
‘Why was she running? Was she being chased?’
‘You do know that people exercise, Sophie? It’s, like, a thing.’
‘Hey, I exercise! I joined the gym two years ago.’
‘And how many times have you been? Twice?’
‘Three times actually,’ I inform her, failing to mention that the third time was to pick up the earbuds I’d left there on my second visit. I also sold my trainers on Vinted and bought a lampshade. ‘But my treadmill game was weak.’
‘Look, even if you can’t run, there will probably be power walkers. Just feign some medical condition and stroll.’
‘Medical condition? Like lupus?’
‘No, Doctor House, not like lupus. Maybe a pinched nerve? Swollen ankle? Inflated arse? I don’t know.’
I start googling singles’ activities and I’m surprised by just how many there are: fit singles, cigar tasting, Christian/Jewish/Pagan singles’ events and even a games night where you can Twister and Scrabble yourself from an ‘I’ to a ‘we’ with a funny story to tell your grandkids. Some of the events are booked up, particularly the cigar tasting. I’m baffled. Wine tasting I understand, but sniffing and tonguing a cigar, especially to a non-smoker, sounds repulsive. The religious nights are also vetoed. If your date bursts into flames at church, she’s probably not a keeper. That leaves me with Fit Singles and Games Night.
Chapter 8
‘Sophie! Get up to anything nice this weekend?’
I’ve just arrived in the office, orange juice in hand, wishing I’d also picked up a bacon roll from Greggs.
As I walk over to reception, I see Eesha grinning. From her eager face I can tell that she’s not particularly interested in my weekend, she just wants to tell me about her own.
‘I just had a quiet one,’ I reply, which is true if I don’t count Friday’s speed dating farce. My Saturday and Sunday were spent lazing around, only punctuated by a quick jaunt around the Marks and Spencer’s food court. Naomi knows about the German pub but I’m not willing to share with anyone else. Not yet.
‘What about you?’ I ask. ‘Anything—’
Before I can finish my request for information, she holds out her left hand and squeals.
‘Congratulations!’ I say, peering down. I’m no expert on engagement rings but I know that it’s beautiful. A big round diamond on a gold band which really dazzles against her olive skin.
‘He took me to the River Café. I had the risotto. Antonio was going to order the pigeon, but I told him I’d have to sit with my back to him because no one has any business eating a pigeon.’
I find it hard to disagree.
‘Anyway, he proposed over the panna cotta. Complete surprise. I nearly spilled my champagne.’
