‘Yeah. I know.’
‘I haven’t been on a date for over fifteen years,’ I confess, already feeling my heart hammering in my chest. ‘I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but at the same time the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to be, right?’ I don’t feel confident. The only thing I’m sure about is that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I touch my hair, glance at my unmanicured fingernails. ‘I should get my nails done at least.’
‘Well, stop chewing them,’ he says, taking my hand away from my mouth, before releasing it quickly. ‘You don’t need to get your nails done, Holly. Remember he’s there to impress you just as much as the other way round. Try not to be nervous, I know easier said than done but remember, if you can work in Scottie’s kitchen, you can have a few cocktails with a handsome stranger.’
I nod.
‘If I can put up with you, I can go on a date,’ I suggest. I wait for him to say something punchy back, but he’s still looking at me, unnervingly.
Laurie bounds into the room with Ian. ‘This is where I do the menus,’ she tells him, before Angus and I move apart abruptly. ‘Scottie needs you, Holly. What are you two doing in here?’
‘Talking,’ Angus says.
‘The menus,’ I say at the same time.
‘Holly’s going on a date,’ Angus tells her, running a hand through his hair.
‘Yeah, Angus was saying I didn’t need to get my nails done.’ I show Laurie and Ian my hands.
‘Nah, don’t bother,’ Laurie agrees. ‘You don’t care what my nails are like, do you Ian?’ She doesn’t wait for him to answer. ‘Ian loves me just the way I am,’ she states, confiding they’re an item now. ‘We were in the supermarket, down the cheese aisle, and I said “Ian, you and I have been friends for a while now, how about it?” And he said, “Why not?”’
‘That’s great,’ Angus and I say together, congratulating both Ian and Laurie.
‘Right, enough chat you two, Scottie is getting stressed,’ Laurie tells us. We head downstairs together, the dining room beginning to fill up.
Before I go into the kitchen, Angus grabs my arm. ‘Don’t bother with your nails, or your hair, be yourself. He’s a lucky man, OK?’
I’m almost moved until he adds, ‘But wear your hair down and wear a low-cut top.’
23
‘Hi, I’m Holly, what do you get up to in your free time?’ I say in my bedroom, after my shower, my hair washed and drying in a turban. I fling open the doors to my wardrobe. ‘Any siblings?’ I continue with my best date voice, before practising a pout. I look like an idiot! Deranged. Don’t pout. I apply some lipstick, rub my lips together. Practise a sexy smouldering look. Stop it, Holly! I wipe the lipstick off. Jamie and I never went on a date. It was so easy, no contrived ‘what do you do?’ conversation. Earlier this evening I Googled successful strategies for a first date, but I’ve got to say asking my date if he has any pets doesn’t sound like the most exciting opening question, though I guess I’ve got to start somewhere. One tip was to prepare some topics so I scanned my untouched copy ofThe Weekmagazine to get up-to-date with what was going on in the world. Another site had a whole list of questions designed to make sure the conversation flows. ‘What’s your biggest passion?’ I practise. ‘Your dream job? Your biggest fear? What would you do if you won the lottery?’ Another tip was not to be too serious, keep the conversation light. ‘Don’t talk about me,’ I can imagine Jamie advising. My mobile pings. It’s a text message from Milla, wishing me luck. Call if you need rescuing but hopefully you won’t?It pings again, and this time it’s from Angus. I know you’ll be Googling questions to ask on a first date, Holly, so here’s one from me. If he found a fifty quid note on the pavement, would he keep it? If he says no, he’s a liar and run for your life.
Laurie sends me a message, saying have a nice time. My mobile then rings, my mother calling me to wish me luck. My phone has never been such a hot line. My date has turned into the most epic event of the year. It’ll be broadcast on the ten o’clock news tonight. Turned into a movie. Hopefully Kate Winslet playing me.
‘Darling! I hope you have a lovely time! Where’s he taking you?’
‘We’re meeting in Covent Garden.’ Mum still has the idea that men ‘take’ you out, that they open car doors and pay the bills.
‘You’re not wearing jeans, are you?’
Even if I was, I wouldn’t tell her. ‘No.’
‘I hope you’re wearing a dress. You look so pretty in red. Don’t wear black.’
‘Mum! You’re making me even more nervous.’
‘No need to be nervous, darling! All good things start with a date. Your father and I got on like a house on fire and we were engaged within three months. Now you go out and enjoy yourself, darling. You’ve got a whole new life ahead of you,’ she says, before hanging up.
I stare at the clothes in my wardrobe, dresses I haven’t worn in a long time. With renewed determination I take Mum’s advice and pick out my red dress, before I spend the next half-hour applying makeup and drying my hair, resolute to do myself, and Jamie, plus all my friends, even my mother, proud tonight. I am going to have the best evening ever, I tell myself, beginning to feel excited as I slip on some heels. ‘You look a million dollars,’ I hear Jamie saying as I check myself out in the mirror, before my mobile pings again. It’s another message from Angus. If he doesn’t realise how special you are, he’s not worth knowing.
As I lock up, I can’t stop smiling.
As I sit in the Tube, I reread his message, realising I’m thinking far more about Angus’s last text than meeting my date.
Giles and I arranged to meet outside Covent Garden Tube. I feel petrified now, my stomach churning with nerves. Come on Holly, you can do this. I’ve got to put myself out there again, take some chances, a few risks. I could turn round and go home? No one needs to know. I can tell everyone it went well. But then they’ll be asking me when we’re going on date number two. I could say that sadly he’d had to leave the country on business and follow it up with disappointment that he never called me again? He’d ghosted me.
‘Any spare change?’ says a scruffy-looking man slumped on the ground, his back against the wall, holding up a large piece of cardboard that claims it’s his birthday. As I’m wondering whether to give him something or not, ‘Hello!’ greets a tall, suited man. ‘You must be Holly, sorry I’m late. Thank God you look normal,’ he adds as he kisses me on both cheeks, and up close I can smell his expensive aftershave. ‘I’ve metsomany women recently and they arenothinglike their profile picture. Time hasn’t been kind to them if you know what I mean.’ He stands back, gives me an all over body scan. ‘You’re gorgeous. How come you’re still single?’
