‘No, they’re lovely,’ Ellie replied, glancing at the poor selection of wilting white carnations and red roses, their stalks wrapped in brown paper. She appreciated the gesture though.
Tim raised his eyebrows like he didn’t believe her.
‘Well, they’re a tiny bit pathetic, but it was a very sweet thought.’ She smiled.
‘I’ve been carrying them around all day which is why they’re battered. I bought them this morning in case I couldn’t find another florist.’
Ellie was touched by his naivety in thinking there might only be one flower seller in London.
He’d already been waiting at the restaurant when Ellie arrived several minutes late. She’d gone against her security chief Andrei’s wishes and had set off alone by taxi, despite his protestations that now, with a serial killer loose in the city, the need for him to escort her was more important than ever. The venue of their second date, this time in a quiet street near London’s Notting Hill, had been chosen by Tim: a family-run French brasserie whose decor hadn’t seen a lick of paint since the Thatcher government.
He sat on a bar stool, peeling the label from his bottle of imported beer, waiting for her to arrive. From the pavement outside, she spotted the dark suit he was wearing. His hair was slicked down into a side parting and he was nibbling at his fingernails. He appeared to have made more of an effort this time and looked much more nervous.
His apparent anxiety made Ellie’s body tense. She wondered if Tim had discovered who she was and, as a result, felt under pressure to make a better impression. It wasn’t what she wanted from him at all – time and time again she’d witnessed first-hand the lengths some men went in their quest to compete with her, or others who had assumed that by showering her with expensive gifts they would win her heart. As much as she admired a strong female role model like Madonna, Ellie was no material girl.
‘Can I get a Hendrick’s gin and tonic please?’ Tim asked the barman as Ellie took a seat by his side. She liked that he’d remembered her favourite brand. ‘You look really nice,’ he said, taking in her black top, knee-length skirt and black, leather boots.
‘So do you,’ she replied. ‘Is that a new suit?’
‘Yes, how did you know?’
‘You left this on the pocket.’ She grinned and tore off a price tag. However, as she pulled, she ripped away part of the pocket from the seam too. ‘Oh no, I’m so sorry!’ She covered her mouth with her hand, panicking.
‘That’s all right,’ he said, and tried to pat the pocket back into place.
‘I feel awful – you’ve gone to all this effort—’
‘Oh really, I haven’t.’
‘Flowers, a new suit, aftershave … but you don’t look as relaxed as when we met last time at the pub. Is everything all right?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Tim sighed. ‘But I have a confession to make.’
Damn it, Ellie thought, and felt her stomach sink. This was it. He’s done his research and now he thinks I’m out of his league.
‘I told my mate Michael about our first date and he had a right pop at me,’ Tim continued.
‘I’m not sure I understand?’
‘He said that even though we’d been Matched, I should have brought you flowers and taken you somewhere nice, not to my local pub. And that I should’ve dressed up a bit, hence the new clobber. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, Ellie. The last few were off Tinder and Plenty of Fish and I was the only one who seemed to bother making an effort. So I went the other way with you. Then you came in looking fucking amazing and I realised I’d got it wrong. With the others, on the rare occasion I did meet someone I was really attracted to, it was never mutual and I always ended up being friend-zoned pretty much straight away. But when we met, I definitely felt something more than just a bloke fancying a bird on a date – and something told me you and I weren’t going to end up just as mates. And now I’m a bit nervous about that because I don’t know what’s supposed to happen next. I don’t want to scare you off, I don’t even know if it’s possible to scare your Match off … By the way, feel free to interrupt me at any point before I sound like a total bell end.’
‘Honestly, Tim, I liked that you were yourself,’ said Ellie, unsure of when she had last met someone who wore his heart on his sleeve quite so openly.
‘But when you get all those London City types in their Hugo Boss suits and Rolex watches trying it on with you, then you find you’re Matched with some provincial pleb—’
‘Believe me,’ Ellie interrupted, ‘I had a far better time with you in your local than I would’ve with one of those types in The Ivy.’
A look of relief passed across Tim’s face. ‘Can we start tonight again?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m secretly enjoying the awkwardness of it.’
‘Then let’s go and see if our table’s ready. That way I can drip some soup down my shirt or spill wine over my lap and we can really make a night of it.’
‘Well at least you’re not having another one of your “love at first fart” moments.’
‘You don’t want to know what happens on my “love at second fart” moment.’
Ellie laughed. There were many things about Tim that Ellie found endearing: like the way his lips curled up at the sides a second before he’d break into laughter, the small grey flecks of hair peeking out from his beard, how his left ear stuck out a little further than the right, the way his entire face turned a deep shade of crimson when he became embarrassed.
While it was neither love at first nor second sight for her, she was sure of one thing. There was something about him she was falling for.
Chapter 31
MANDY
Mandy listened intently as Richard’s mother, Pat, recalled anecdote after anecdote about her son, filling in the many gaps in Mandy’s limited understanding of her Match and his life.
It was the second time they’d met in a week, this time in a garden centre coffee shop in a village halfway between their respective towns.
‘The women he trained at the gym loved him,’ chuckled Pat. ‘He was a handsome lad but there was something about his personality that they adored too. I think it’s because he gave them attention and listened to them. They might not have got that from their husbands. And, of course, some of them took this to mean he was more interested than he actually was.’
Mandy understood what it was about Richard these women were drawn to; the more she heard about him from those who knew him best, the deeper she was falling for him, against her better judgment.
She clung on to Pat’s every word as she described his childhood days in the cubs, how he’d inherited his sense of adventure from his father and how, no matter where in the world he’d been, Richard had always stayed in regular touch with his family by email or by phone. She spoke of how, when Richard was just nine years old, he had lost his dad to a sudden heart attack and had immediately stepped up as the new man of the house.
‘I think Chloe told you about his cancer, didn’t she? The one that inspired him to go travelling?’
‘She mentioned it, yes.’
‘Well, he was seventeen when he found a lump in his testicle and at first he didn’t say anything … the last thing a teenage boy wants is his mum to know he has anything wrong down there. But when he finally did admit it, I dragged him to the doctors and within a couple of days he was in hospital having the lump removed. It was malignant, and he had to have a few sessions of chemotherapy, but within six months he was as right as rain.’