‘So when do you go on this date then?’ Karen asked without looking up at me.
‘Friday night.’
‘Nice,’ said Mini.
‘Do you think it’s too soon?’ I said, suddenly worried I had made the wrong decision to meet him so soon. Perhaps I should have continued to chat to him for a few days, as Mini had suggested.
‘No, no, it’s fine, you obviously think it’s okay. I mean, I personally would be all flirty-flirty for a few days, but that’s mainly for entertainment purposes.’ Mini wrinkled her nose.
‘Okay, well, I’m going to meet him and simply hope he’s not an axe-murderer. I’m sure he will be fine.’
‘Why do people always use that reference? Axe-murderer? It’s so retro,’ Karen said.
I smiled. ‘I suppose it is. In my day, there were a lot of films with women running away from men with big weapons.’
Mini raised her eyebrows and sniggered.
‘Now it’s all cyborgs and dystopian mania,’ I said.
‘Well, I’m sure you oldies will have a lovely time remembering your favourite slasher movies,’ Karen said, shovelling a mouthful of All-Bran into her mouth.
‘Ahh. It’s going to be great, isn’t it, Karen?’ Mini shoved Karen slightly harder than she had meant to and Karen sloped to one side, shot Mini a look and then rested her gaze on me.
The date was just two days away and I contemplated cancelling about a hundred times, opening the app, setting out a message to him before deleting it again. I kept reminding myself that I had to do this for my sanity. I needed to just get out there, have a few dates, and behave like everyone else. Not someone who checks the locks on windows six times and crawls on their hands and knees into their neighbour’s garden. This was not me; I was better than this.
Eventually, Friday arrived. We had arranged to meet at a pub in Waterloo at 7 p.m. I arrived outside the pub five minutes before our scheduled date. I stalled for a few seconds and was just contemplating heading back home again when I heard, ‘Regi?’ I spun around and saw a real-life version of the man from the photo on my dating app. It was surreal, to say the least. His features were more prominent than his photo showed. His hair was now a lot longer, set high on his head and swept stylishly to one side. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and a light-green jacket was slung over his arm.
‘How are you?’ he asked, a slightly posh cut to his voice. ‘Good journey, I hope?’
‘Yes, it was great,’ I replied on autopilot, realising afterwards I was talking like a robot. It hadn’t been great; I had been anxious and scared the entire way and, anyway, who ever has a ‘great’ journey into central London?
‘Good, good.’ He nodded and I stood very still, suddenly unable to speak or move.
He blew out a loud breath. ‘So shall we…?’ He gestured to the door to the pub.
‘Yes, oh, yes, let’s,’ I said as he held it open for me.
The atmosphere hit me like a wall as I entered the pub. I began my breathing techniques immediately, hoping that it didn’t look too obvious. It was hot, busy and unfamiliar. I hadn’t frequented anywhere like this for such a long time.
‘What do you say we find a quiet corner?’ Calvin’s voice was suddenly loud and in my ear, and I jumped at the closeness of him.
I followed Calvin as he navigated us through the crowds and to a corner at the back of the pub that was quieter and calmer. I immediately looked for the sign for the toilets and also a fire exit. Both of which were within visible distance.
‘I’m just going to…’ I said as he went to sit, then he righted himself and nodded.
‘Oh, yes, sure, absolutely. Hopefully you’re not doing a runner through the toilet window,’ he said deadpan, and then his face broke into a smile.
I looked confused, then I managed a smile. ‘God, no. Of course not.’ I scooted off towards the toilet.
Inside the cubicle, I unlocked and locked the door six times. At the sink, I lathered my hands for thirty-four seconds, counting in my head as I did. I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering who the stranger was staring back at me. Eventually I mouthed, ‘You can do this.’
I found my way back to Calvin, who was perusing the drinks menu and not on his phone, which I found refreshing. I had already checked my phone on the way here on the train to see what Mrs Clean had been posting. In fact, I had been checking several times a day, always on the lookout for the newest post and always checking in with lucybest65, the troll, to see what she had been posting.
And lucybest65 just wouldn’t let up. She was there commenting on every post, making her opinion known and not very kindly as per usual. I thought how strange it was that the best part of my day was when I could look in on the cyber lives of two women I had never even met. But here I was, and I needed to live in the moment, this crazy moment of… what was I doing? I supposed it was a blind date of sorts, even though I had seen his face in a photo. And there he was in the flesh, looking at me with a small smile, maybe as nervous as I was about the date.
‘You came back then,’ he said as I slid into a seat at a right angle to him.
‘I did. I contemplated slipping out the window, but these pins aren’t as nimble as they once were.’ I looked around as I spoke and rubbed my hands on my knees. They felt sweaty. My mouth felt dry. I wondered who
