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‘… maybe we should skip over the details of what’s next, Nan!’
‘Oh, don’t be so silly: it wasn’t like that. Well maybe it was a bit, but not for us, I always thought I’d see him again and so had no reason to rush. Of course, looking back, I was a bit of a die-hard romantic about it all, not unlike you my girl …’ Nanny G prodded her spoon towards Helen.
‘Anyway, we agreed to meet later that night in Kynance Cove, you know the one you can walk to over the headland. There was nothing there back in my day, but we had the most beautiful stroll across the beach in the moonlight. It didn’t even rain! Which was just as well as I wasn’t wearing any nylons. Couldn’t get a hold of any, so I’d drawn the line of my stockings onto the back of my legs with a bit of eyeliner; it would have washed right off in bad weather and caused a terrible mess.
‘His name was Vernon and he’d bought me two Victoria plums in his pocket; which was quite the thing to get a hold of back then. We sat on the shingle of the beach, and talked until the early hours of the morning. I got quite told off when I finally made it home!’
‘What happened, did you ever see him again?’
‘Never. He used to write to me once a week from London. I heard from him with the Friday post every week for five months and then – nothing. Of course, I was beside myself at the time, and vowed that as soon as this war business was over that I’d go to London to find him. But then, I met your grandfather, and there was some pressure for me to marry. My mother was worried the men would get called back up, and the thing was, if I was married to a man, I would get a military pension and be quite safe. If he died that is.
‘That was all my mother wanted for me: to be safe. Exactly the same as what your mother wants for you, though I know sometimes she can put her foot in her mouth expressing it. So, I married your Grandpa M, and that was that. I don’t know what happened to Vernon: maybe he had another woman up there, maybe he was called-up, I really don’t know. But I do think of him often: that’s the thing at my age; I only have my memories, which is why atyourage my dear, it is worth making some good ones.’ Nanny G gave Helen a little prod in the ribs with one bony finger.
Helen slumped further into the beanbag feeling a little guilty. She was the epitome of nothing to complain about. Her ex had got engaged and put up a stupid post on Instagram: so what? It wasn’t exactly comparable to what her nan had been through. It wasn’t Britain in the Blitz, and getting to meet the love of your life for only twenty-four hours. Nanny G didn’t need to tell her as much, but she got the distinct feeling she needed to buck up her ideas.
‘You’re right: I’m going to make an online dating profile and go and make some new memories,’ she said pulling out her phone.
‘Good – just make sure I can have a look at what pictures you’re using. None of this down and out look you are sporting right now: choose photos where you’re wearing your hair down, and maybe that nice one of you in the yellow dress.’
‘Thanks, Nan,’ Helen smiled and chose the yellow dress picture for her lead photo. Photos generally made her feel awkward, but luckily her career as a baking blogger meant that if there was one thing she could do well, it was to write.
Helen, 31
Cornish lass, based in London.
Makes excellent banana bread.
Looking for an old-fashioned romance – or at least a good opening line.
Sat on her single bed, Helen opened the app and started swiping.
If anything, at least this was entertaining: bad checked shirt (next!), odd angle of photo with cows in the background (next!), proudly clutching two pints at once (double next!).
Then she saw his profile:
Brody, 37
Entrepreneur, surfer, and committed Dachshund fan.
Taller than you in your tallest heels.
Looking to go on my last first date ;-)
Brody had sandy blonde hair that framed a strong jawline, and eyes that seemed to look back at her through his profile pic. He had a little dog under one arm, a green smoothie in the other, and was standing against some kind of golden trellised background. The dog had unusual blue eyes and a shaggy grey coat that matched Brody’s slim fitting T-shirt. Helen was not the biggest fan of dogs, especially the small yappy kind, but felt confident she could make an exception in this case. She swiped right.
You’ve connexed!the app proudly announced.
Too good to be true Helen thought. Then a message popped up:
Banana bread? Any chance you bring a slice to your first dates? B x
A shiver ran down Helen’s spine: like a door had swung open that she was destined to walk through.
Chapter 3
Helen paused and looked at her phone; she tried to ignore it but a gentle, fizzing excitement was edging out the emptiness she’d felt just hours ago. Now that Jonathan was definitely out of the picture, had that acted like some abrakadabra in the universe summoning up a new romance? A new boyfriend?! She shook her head and focused on writing a witty response:
Helen:Only for very special people! Do you live in Cornwall?
