Page 67 of It Was Always You

Adam chuckled at her reply and the sly dig it contained. So, she thought it was a good idea, eh?

Right. That’s settled then. I’ll be a big boy and will venture out alone tomorrow to see if the future love of my life is waiting for me at the Stewart Hotel. Hmm. We’ll see, I guess.

With his resolve set he grabbed his jacket, deciding to call to the local shop and buy beer and chocolate to give him a boost. He would have a Monty Python marathon… again.

Yay… I do know how to live.

He sighed as he walked back with his little stripy carrier bag. It was a fairly warm September Friday evening, and the smell of barbecue was in the air. He and Eve used to have some great barbecues. Inhaling deeply, he smiled as the smell brought memories flooding back, making tears sting the backs of his eyes.

God, I miss you, Evie.

Saturday evening came around at lightning speed and before he knew it Adam was showering and shaving, ready for his date with destiny. Well, ready for his night out at the Stewart Hotel anyway. He buttoned up his favourite pale green shirt and pulled on his favourite dark blue jeans. His palms were sweaty and he was thankful his jeans were dark enough to hide the moisture he wiped down his legs. The pub was only a short drive away, and he decided to go sans jacket, thinking the cool evening air would help his profuse nervous perspiring.

On arrival he was both shocked and pleased at the number of singles in attendance. Although a second glance informed him that the men outweighed the women at about a ratio of four to one. Great. He went to the bar and ordered a lime and soda, wishing he hadn’t chosen to drive as an infusion of alcohol into his bloodstream might’ve relaxed him a little. The sound of someone clearing their throat into a microphone stopped the hum of conversation and everyone turned around towards the source of the noise.

‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Monica and I’d like to welcome you to Two’s Company Singles’ Night here at the Stewart Hotel.’ She had a whiny, nasal voice that he guessed could be very irritating if listened to for any length of time. ‘Now these days many people are favouring the dating apps, but I say what better way is there to meet Mr or Miss Right than face to face in a public place? Okay… so… you were all handed a little sticker on the way in, and you should’ve all written your names on them by now, so we’ll be ready to go shortly.’ Adam had been tempted to write ‘Dolf’ or ‘Arnie’ on his sticker in case he met lots of weirdos. But in the end, he had caved and written his real name.

‘Now, there are a few ground rules. Well, I say ground rules, I suppose they’re more like ground suggestions.’ Yeah, ’cause that’s a thing, Adam snorted derisively to himself. ‘We prefer that if you connect with someone of interest you swap email addresses or mobile numbers. We do not condone anyone pairing off and leaving together on the first meeting. Obviously, if you choose to do so Two’s Company will accept no responsibility for any incident that occurs outside the premises.’ Yeah, like if the person you cop off with turns out to be an axe-wielding maniac. Why am I even here? ‘So, mingle, chat, and see where the night takes you. Enjoy and remember two really is company.’ As opposed to a threesome, eh?

Adam’s negative subconscious was clearly in full flight tonight. It didn’t bode well. Monica handed the microphone back to the bartender and began to walk around with a clipboard.

Adam stood there awkwardly, contemplating ripping off his name badge and running for the Cheviot hills, but that would mean the waste of a perfectly good lime and soda. He leaned against the post in the middle of the room and watched as everyone else seemed to make a beeline for someone. He cringed at how many medallions and hairy chests were on show and thought that perhaps a well-known manufacturer of hair product had gone into meltdown on account of having no stock left.

Another scan of the room and his eyes fell on a pretty woman who seemed to be feeling as out of place as Adam. She stood there in the corner, chewing her lip and fiddling with the strap on her bag. She looked up and made eye contact, and her cheeks blushed crimson as a slow smile spread across her face. Taking a deep breath, he made his way over to talk to her.

He arrived home around an hour after chatting with Jessica. He decided that he felt too uncomfortable to be there and made excuses to leave but not before getting her contact details. Once he arrived home, he messaged Lily on WhatsApp.

Hi, Lil. Well, I went to the singles’ night thing. Only stayed an hour though as I couldn’t hack it. It was a bit like a meat market. I did meet someone though! She’s called Jessica and she’s a nursery nurse. She has long, wavy auburn hair and green eyes. Quite pretty really. She likes boy bands, but I can let that go. She has a cat but only one! She’s around five feet one and quite petite. I have her number. What do you think? Should I give it a shot? Write me back soon so I know what to do, eh?

Adders x

Around an hour later, after finishing off the huge bar of chocolate he’d bought the night before, he got a reply.

Hi, Pee Pants! You did well to say you didn’t stay long! She sounds normal. Not sure that makes her your type but hey, what do I know? Drop Polly Pocket a message and see where it goes from there.

Lily x

He wasn’t sure what to make of Lily’s reply but decided he would message Jessica anyway. What could it hurt? He clicked on her details on WhatsApp and paused. He briefly considered doing a quick copy and paste of the message he had sent to Arabella but felt that Arabella was too nice to do that to. His message to her would remain unique. So he opened a new message.

Hi, Jessica. This is Adam, the teacher you met at the singles’ event. It was very nice to meet you. I’m so sorry for dashing off like that. I can only hope that you weren’t swept off your feet by some other dashing hunk after I’d gone. That’s not to say that I think I’m a dashing hunk. Nor do I intend to sound mean in hoping you didn’t meet anyone else. Anyway, I digress. You said that you’re based on the outskirts of Edinburgh. That’s quite handy as I’m near Jedburgh. Perhaps we could meet in Edinburgh for drinks or a meal?

Anyway, a little about myself, seeing as we didn’t get much chance to chat. I’m almost thirty-one and as I said, I teach English in high school. I love my job and the kids are great. You obviously like kids too as you work in a nursery. I’ll bet that can be exhausting but rewarding all at the same time.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Do message back if you’d like to meet up.

Cheers,

Adam

He clicked send and then opened the message up to reread it. God, I sound dull as ditch water. Wouldn’t blame her if she falls asleep before she gets through the first paragraph. Oh, well. As Lil said, nothing ventured… blah, blah, blah.

He watched TV for a while and had a bottle of beer. He bounced his knee up and down and kept glancing at his phone as if Jessica would jump right out of it. After about forty minutes, impatience got the better of him, and he opened his WhatsApp, just in case he had missed a message. There was a reply! It turned out his phone was on silent, so he hadn’t heard the usual ping. Before he plucked up the courage to open it, he went to the kitchen and put a frozen pizza in the oven. Then, deciding he could put it off no longer, he opened up the message.

Hi, Adam. Thank you for your message. It was a pleasant surprise to receive it, and it was nice to meet you too. I am on the outskirts of Edinburgh, so perhaps we could meet at a restaurant at Straiton? It would be nice to meet you properly. I left not long after you did, as I felt very much like a fish out of water, if the truth be told. Are you free tomorrow evening? I know it’s short notice, but I’m due to go on a girls’ holiday next weekend and will be spending next week after work preparing, getting a spray tan, packing, etc. Couldn’t afford to go during the summer holidays so have special permission as it’s my friend’s hen do.

Shall we say half seven outside Benito’s? It shouldn’t be too busy on a Sunday evening. Hopefully I’ll recognise you from our brief meeting. Unless I was tipsier than I realised and you really are in actual fact a fat, balding sixty-year-old! Gosh, I hope I remembered you correctly!

Anyway, I’ll await your next message and I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow.