4
‘ W hat’s his name , then?’ Jenna asked, her eyes all-agog with vicarious excitement as she leaned over in the manicurist’s chair and nudged Chloe.
‘Carl. Or rather TheBigCarlhuna , according to his profile.’ Chloe tried to hide her mortification from her sister and the two nail artistes giving them the pedi part of the mani-pedi. But she could tell, just by the way the young girls at their feet glanced at each other with unconcealed mirth in their eyes, that she was going to be the topic of conversation later. She’d only brought Jenna here to use up the voucher she’d been gifted at her hen party… maybe she should have just let it expire along with her love life. ‘Believe me, he is the best of a bad bunch of today’s Special Love Matches. And I’m staying well away from StiffRoger, who seems to pop up way too often. All puns intended.’
Buoyed by potential ex-shaming and the need to prove herself to smug Vaughn, she’d plucked up the courage, reactivated her matchyou.co.uk membership and perused the sappy love heart surrounding her profile with renewed interest. She’d picked a couple of guys who looked interesting and arranged a meeting with the only one who answered her coy message of, ‘ hi ’. It was hardly the most profound thing she’d ever written, but TheBigCarlhuna had answered with a smiley face, and thus, it had begun.
‘And how do you feel about this… date?’
‘It’s just a coffee, seriously. How bad can it be?’ About as bad as any very bad thing ever. But she’d arranged it now, and it was the only way she was going to get a plus-one for the wedding, unless she took up her mum’s suggestion of the dandruff-ridden funeral director. No, thank you. Chloe looked down at her toes. ‘So, what’s the score with this nail varnish malarkey? Age old dilemma: do you have the same colour on your fingers as your toes?’
‘You can have a different colour on each damned digit if you like.’ Jenna handed her the plastic colour sample swatches with so many colours Chloe didn’t know where to start. It was aeons since her last first date, and once she’d got engaged and fallen into a settled routine, her interest in such things as painting nails had been overtaken by house buying and mortgages and wedding planning. ‘What do you know about this Carl guy? How do you know he’s not an axe murderer? What does he look like? For that matter, what do axe murderers look like? When you see their profiles on TV, you always think he looks like an axe murderer, how did nobody know ? But probably, being their neighbour or something, you wouldn’t guess they had it in them. Such a lovely man, used to feed my cat… Bit of a loner …’
‘Oh, now’s really not the time to throw that at me, Jenna. I’m only at this point because of you, but I don’t think matchyou.co.uk allows axe murderers to sign up. I’m sure it’s part of their terms and conditions. I’ll check his pockets for axes, shall I?’
‘Don’t go anywhere near his pockets on a first date.’ Jenna laughed, then wriggled as her pedicure reached the tickle foot massage part. But, suddenly, she was dead serious. ‘Just be careful, okay?’
‘Of course.’
‘No dark alleys or wide-open spaces where he could bury a body. Don’t go anywhere with him alone.’
‘Well, wow, you’re quite the merchant of doom.’ But Chloe’s courage took a little nosedive. Maybe dating was a bad idea after all. No—she wasn’t dating; she was interviewing for a plus-one role. Although, in Jenna’s eyes, if Chloe wasn’t just about to be done away with, she was going to find fun and fall in love with love again… Or something. It was all in the framing. ‘Oh, God, I don’t know what the rules are these days. The last time I went on a first date was nearly ten years ago. I’m well out of practice. And anyway, I thought with all these dating apps, people went straight to sex and cut out the middle bit?’
Jenna sighed.
‘ W hat’s his name , then?’ Jenna asked, her eyes all-agog with vicarious excitement as she leaned over in the manicurist’s chair and nudged Chloe.
‘Carl. Or rather TheBigCarlhuna , according to his profile.’ Chloe tried to hide her mortification from her sister and the two nail artistes giving them the pedi part of the mani-pedi. But she could tell, just by the way the young girls at their feet glanced at each other with unconcealed mirth in their eyes, that she was going to be the topic of conversation later. She’d only brought Jenna here to use up the voucher she’d been gifted at her hen party… maybe she should have just let it expire along with her love life. ‘Believe me, he is the best of a bad bunch of today’s Special Love Matches. And I’m staying well away from StiffRoger, who seems to pop up way too often. All puns intended.’
Buoyed by potential ex-shaming and the need to prove herself to smug Vaughn, she’d plucked up the courage, reactivated her matchyou.co.uk membership and perused the sappy love heart surrounding her profile with renewed interest. She’d picked a couple of guys who looked interesting and arranged a meeting with the only one who answered her coy message of, ‘ hi ’. It was hardly the most profound thing she’d ever written, but TheBigCarlhuna had answered with a smiley face, and thus, it had begun.
‘And how do you feel about this… date?’
‘It’s just a coffee, seriously. How bad can it be?’ About as bad as any very bad thing ever. But she’d arranged it now, and it was the only way she was going to get a plus-one for the wedding, unless she took up her mum’s suggestion of the dandruff-ridden funeral director. No, thank you. Chloe looked down at her toes. ‘So, what’s the score with this nail varnish malarkey? Age old dilemma: do you have the same colour on your fingers as your toes?’
‘You can have a different colour on each damned digit if you like.’ Jenna handed her the plastic colour sample swatches with so many colours Chloe didn’t know where to start. It was aeons since her last first date, and once she’d got engaged and fallen into a settled routine, her interest in such things as painting nails had been overtaken by house buying and mortgages and wedding planning. ‘What do you know about this Carl guy? How do you know he’s not an axe murderer? What does he look like? For that matter, what do axe murderers look like? When you see their profiles on TV, you always think he looks like an axe murderer, how did nobody know ? But probably, being their neighbour or something, you wouldn’t guess they had it in them. Such a lovely man, used to feed my cat… Bit of a loner …’
‘Oh, now’s really not the time to throw that at me, Jenna. I’m only at this point because of you, but I don’t think matchyou.co.uk allows axe murderers to sign up. I’m sure it’s part of their terms and conditions. I’ll check his pockets for axes, shall I?’
‘Don’t go anywhere near his pockets on a first date.’ Jenna laughed, then wriggled as her pedicure reached the tickle foot massage part. But, suddenly, she was dead serious. ‘Just be careful, okay?’
‘Of course.’
‘No dark alleys or wide-open spaces where he could bury a body. Don’t go anywhere with him alone.’
‘Well, wow, you’re quite the merchant of doom.’ But Chloe’s courage took a little nosedive. Maybe dating was a bad idea after all. No—she wasn’t dating; she was interviewing for a plus-one role. Although, in Jenna’s eyes, if Chloe wasn’t just about to be done away with, she was going to find fun and fall in love with love again… Or something. It was all in the framing. ‘Oh, God, I don’t know what the rules are these days. The last time I went on a first date was nearly ten years ago. I’m well out of practice. And anyway, I thought with all these dating apps, people went straight to sex and cut out the middle bit?’
Jenna sighed.
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