I stood up and put my phone in my bag, after giving it a final scan for messages but drawing a blank. With an attempt at nonchalance, I strolled towards the door. I had an hour to kill between a work meeting and cocktails with some of my glamorous, fascinating friends, I told myself. I enjoy a glass of wine alone in bars all the time. It doesn’t faze me in the slightest. I’m independent Aquarius, among the crowd but not of it.
If I’d had a bit longer to work on my technique, I might just have convinced myself that all that was true. But I didn’t – and I’d failed to convince someone else.
‘Excuse me,’ a voice said, just before I reached the door.
‘What?’ I snapped, as unlike a nonchalant, independent haver of fascinating friends as it was possible to get.
Spinning around so fast I practically put my back out, I found myself face to face with a man who definitely wasn’t Dominic. He was tall and lanky; my should-have-been-date had been sturdy and shortish. He was fair; Dominic’s photos had shown a man so dark-haired and olive-skinned he looked almost Mediterranean.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just, I was meant to be meeting a Tinder date here, and she hasn’t shown up. I may have this totally wrong, but I was watching you and I kind of wondered if that was what was going on with you too.’
For a second, I thought about drawing myself up to my full height, giving him a haughty stare and telling him not to be absurd, who would have the gall to stand me up? But five foot three isn’t much full height to speak of, and my dignity was so tattered by that point that I simply didn’t have enough of it to cloak myself in.
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘it is. You’ve got me bang to rights.’
He smiled ruefully. ‘I’m sorry. It sucks, right? However many times it happens. But – and I know this is kind of left field – maybe we could have a drink together? A kind of un-date?’
I looked at him. His eyes behind his thick glasses looked kind. He was smiling in a cautious, self-effacing sort of way, and the smile showed clean, even teeth. His denim shirt looked freshly ironed, and he smelled of some kind of mildly floral, slightly earthy cologne.
I’d have scored him a high seven and a half, maybe even eight if I was feeling generous. But I had different standards to uphold.
‘Just one thing,’ I said. ‘Do you mind me asking what your star sign is?’
‘My what? I’m sorry, I don’t really follow all of that.’
‘That doesn’t matter. Just tell me when your birthday is.’
‘Ninth of September – 1992, if that matters. And my name’s Justin.’
‘Zoë,’ I replied, frantically trying to remember whether that date fell within the sign of Virgo, and realising that it did. ‘And you’re on. What can I get you?’
Six
Following your dreams doesn’t always mean getting what you desire. But you’re not going to give up that easily – are you?
‘Oh my God!’ Dani lowered her barbell, its ends loaded with metal plates, back onto the squat rack. ‘Fuck me, that hurt. But that’s so romantic! I can’t believe it! That’s a meet-cute straight out of a movie. It’s almost as good as if he’d rescued your cat from a tree or you’d met each other’s eyes in a Tube station going in different directions and he’d run down the up escalator to find you and get your number. You’ll be able to tell your grandchildren! I’ll use it in my speech at your wedding!’
‘Steady on! It was only the one date.’
‘So what happened next?’
I moved some of her weights off the bar and positioned myself underneath it. I hadn’t needed her to tell me – this was going to hurt. But it would be worth it; already, I could feel my hangover receding a bit, and I was pretty sure I was sweating pure sauvignon blanc. After this, I promised myself, I’d head for the local café that did vegan breakfasts and have a massive stack of pancakes with blueberries and coconut yoghurt, and then I’d feel as good as new.
I hoped so, anyway, because after that I needed to go to work, and there was no prospect of the long nap I so badly needed.
‘So, after that,’ I stepped carefully back from the rack, the weight on my shoulders, lowered myself into a squat, then straightened up again, my thighs already burning, ‘I bought us a drink – white wine for me, red for him – and he managed to find us a table, which was pretty impressive because the place was totally rammed by then and the one I’d been sitting at got nabbed as soon as I stood up.’
I did a couple more squats, by the end of which I was too out of breath to talk.
‘Go on, you’ve got this,’ Dani said. ‘Two more, then you can carry on with the story, right?’
‘Right.’ I finished my set, replaced the weight and stood there for a moment, breathing hard, my eyes stinging with perspiration.
‘So you bought a drink and you sat down,’ Dani prompted, wide-eyed. ‘And then?’
‘Then we chatted a bit, like you do. It was weird because I kept wanting to ask him all the questions I’d planned to ask Dominic.’
‘What happened to him, anyway? Did he get in touch with a grovelling apology?’
‘Nope. Nothing. And he’s blocked me. I’ve got absolutely no idea what that was all about.’
‘Bastard,’ she said. ‘He probably got a booty call – some girl he’s shagged before and knew was a certainty – and he couldn’t be bothered to think of an excuse. He should be ashamed of himself.’
‘Maybe, but I bet he isn’t. Anyway, so I had to keep reminding myself not to say something like, “How is a luffing crane different from a normal crane anyway?” to Justin, like I’d been planning to say to Dominic. So I asked him what he did for work and he told me he was an accountant, so of course I couldn’t think of anything even slightly interesting to ask him about that.’
‘“What is double entry anyway, I’ve always wondered?”’ Dani suggested, and we both giggled childishly.
‘“Do you have an asset or a liability?”’ I suggested.
‘“Are you single and ready to commingle?”’
I stepped under the bar and did another set of squats, racking my brain and then racking the weight.
‘Sorry,’ I said, when I’d finished. ‘That’s it. No more accountancy puns. I’ve got nothing else.’
‘Just as well,’ she admitted. ‘I’m all out too. It’s not exactly a field that has many opportunities for lolz, is it?’
I shook my head.
‘Anyway, never mind about that,’ she went on. ‘Back to Justin. So you had your drink and you talked about what he gets up to between the spreadsheets.’
I groaned. ‘Badoom-tish.’
‘Thank you, I’m here all week.’
‘Anyway, yeah, so he actually did talk about being an accountant. Like, a lot. He talked about how it requires integrity, precision, attention to detail and stuff like that. And he talked about how it’s given him this great grounding in managing his own personal finances, and how he was able to put down a deposit on his first flat when he was twenty-three, because he’d always saved between ten and fifteen per cent of his income – net, not gross, whatever that means – since he got his first summer job when he was sixteen, and invested it across a spread of short- and long-term instruments, carefully selected to manage risk and maximise growth whilst offering a steady rate of return.’