‘What a coincidence, so was I. So tell me a little about my wife-to-be, as I only know the basics. It’d be nice to find some common ground before I book the register office.’
‘No church then?’
‘No, satanists like me aren’t welcome there.’
‘Something we have in common,’ she replied and included a smiling devil icon?
‘What do you do for a living?’
‘Steal their souls.’
‘No, I said what do you do FOR a living, not WITH the living.’
‘Sorry. Aside from worshipping Lucifer, I work in a boring office job. You?’
‘Computer nerd.’
Over the next thirty minutes, Ellie failed to notice the queue of traffic that was keeping her car stationary or the pouring rain that lashed against the window. When Andrei finally pulled up outside her house, she was glued to her phone like a schoolgirl as she and Tim continued messaging back and forth. Andrei opened the car door and then opened an umbrella.
‘Can I take my wife-to-be for a drink some time?’ Tim texted.
‘I’m not sure …’ she replied.
‘I won’t bite, honest. Sometimes we all need to take a punt.’
Ellie bit her bottom lip and slipped the phone into her handbag, as Andrei escorted her into the house. She paused for a few minutes, weighing up the pros and cons of allowing a stranger into her life before making her decision. The very reason she took the Match Your DNA test had now formed into a living, breathing person. He had a name and a face and he was waiting to learn if she wanted to meet him. But she was scared. She removed the phone from her bag, then read and re-read his text again before replying.
‘OK, I’d like that,’ she typed apprehensively.
‘Are you free on Friday night?’
Chapter 16
MANDY
Mandy learned much more about her DNA Match from his remembrance service than from her online research.
She felt like an impostor, sitting alone at the back of St Peter and All Saints Church, listening to Richard’s friends regale the congregation with anecdotes about his life, what inspired him and how he acted as their confidant. She discovered he was a team player both in and out of the sporting arena, a loyal pal and a shoulder to cry on. She learned that he’d played hockey and badminton for the county; he’d become a vegetarian at the age of twelve; and he’d overcome cancer when he was seventeen, his positive attitude getting him through chemotherapy. Mandy thought back to the photos of his global travels on his Facebook and wondered if it’d been his experience with the disease that had inspired him to see the world.
Richard had also run two marathons to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Support and had organised for local people with learning difficulties to take part in assault courses and exercise programmes. In comparison, Mandy felt like the laziest and most selfish person, and she knew that, when her time came, she wouldn’tbe remembered in the same way as Richard for his philanthropy.
It had been a little over a fortnight since Mandy had learned the devastating news of her Match’s death.
She’d become frustrated at still not having heard from him, so she decided to make the first move. She was careful not to mention in her introductory email that she had looked him up on social media or that she kept a folder on her computer with photographs she’d saved. But she included a picture of herself, a flattering one taken three years earlier when she was lighter, and before the frown lines from her divorce appeared, as well as her email address and mobile phone number.
Much to her disappointment, she heard nothing in return. Her first thought had been that Richard hadn’t found her attractive, but then she reminded herself that if you’ve been Matched looks were unimportant – supposedly. Had he been bitten by the wanderlust bug again and had gone travelling? There was no evidence of that online … Maybe he was in prison, cripplingly shy, dyslexic or had broken both his hands so he couldn’t type … Mandy was clutching at straws.
It was only by chance when she clicked on his Facebook page – one of the many times that day – that she saw a message left by his sister, informing Richard’s friends of the date and address of his remembrance service.
Mandy had glared at the screen, and re-read the message. Remembrance? What the hell? It didn’t make sense. Richard couldn’t be dead. They’d only just found each other – how on earth could the one person in the world who was supposed to have been made for her no longer be living? And how had she not read about it sooner?
On further examination, Mandy discovered that while Richard’s profile pictures were public, not all his posts were. She requested to be friends with him, in the hopethat his sister approved it so she could learn more. And after a tense couple of days, the friend request had been approved. There, she found thread after thread of tribute messages from Richard’s friends across the world, each paying their respects to a man who’d touched them all emotionally.
Grief threatened to tear her apart and she did her best to fight it. She poured herself a glass of Prosecco and carefully scanned local newspapers online, piecing together information about his accident. While he was out celebrating a victory with a group of hockey teammates late one evening, he had become separated from them, stumbled into a road and was struck by a hit-and-run driver. He’d been found a few hours later on a roadside verge with serious head injuries.
Mandy succumbed to her emotions and began to cry and for the rest of the night – and into the early hours of the morning. She pored over photographs of Richard, aching for all he was no longer able to bring to her life.
They would never meet for that all important first date, never would they make love for the first time. She would never hear him tell her that he loved her, build a life together or start a family. She would never know how it felt to be the single most important thing in somebody life. Mandy’s greatest fear was being realised – that she would remain where she had been since her divorce: alone, stagnating and washed up at thirty-seven.
