‘Oi. Are you even listening to me?’ Sal snapped. ‘You look like you’re off on another planet!’
‘Sorry,’ Eleanor apologized. ‘What did you say?’
‘Isaid,’ Sal huffed, opening the door of the pub and reeling from the swell of noise and smell of beer that hit them, ‘will you go on a date with my friend?’
‘Oh. Absolutely not.’
‘But it’s been nearly three months!’ Sal cried incredulously, as they forced their way through the heaving mass of bodies.
‘And?’ Eleanor shouted over her shoulder. The little pub across the road from their office was always packed after work; if you managed to get a space at the bar you were lucky, let alone a seat at a table. Thankfully Sal knew the manager, and without fail there would always be a corner seat reserved for her and Eleanor whenever they needed it.
‘And?’ Sal shot the group of rowdy men next to her a deadly glare as one very nearly spilt his entire pint on to her shoulder. ‘I think you should at least give it a go. Look how far you’ve come. You went to a bloody wedding by yourself and it won’t be long until you’re back to your carbohydrate inhaling, sleeping eight hours a night self! Next step is surely a date?’
Eleanor laughed as she eventually reached the little reserved booth nestled in the back of the bar. ‘There’s not some sort of heartbreak recovery checklist, you know? Just because I’m not crying every five minutes and consuming 90 per cent liquid, doesn’t mean I’m ready to date.’
Sal frowned, sliding into the seat opposite her. Eleanor knew that eventually she would have to succumb – there were only so many times her friend could take no for an answer – but right now she was willing to try and keep her at bay for just a little longer.
‘You deserve some happiness, that’s all.’ Sal grabbed the bottle of wine and poured them both a large glass. ‘Oh shit, I forgot to get one for Freya.’
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed instantly. ‘Can you two stop being friends behind my back, please. It’s weird.’ She grabbed her glass and angrily sipped her wine.
‘You’ve only got yourself to blame. If you hadn’t disappeared off the face of the earth when Oliver left then I wouldn’t have had to contact your sister to check if you were alive,’ Sal shot back. Eleanor felt her face redden with a potent mix of embarrassment and frustration. ‘We only talk because we care aboutyou.’ Her friend reached across and clinked her glass against Eleanor’s.
‘Fine.’ She felt her body soften slightly. ‘Anyway, why is everyone so obsessed with me meeting someone?’ she whined, clumsily changing the subject. Eleanor had always counted herself lucky. She had never technically had to date anyone before. High school boyfriends were acquired in the very emotionally mature way of passing notes or slow dancing at the annual disco. Then came university, and it just so happened that on the first night of Freshers’ Week she met Oliver Fitzpatrick, and after ten Jägerbombs and some neon paint, the pair had become inseparable. Now she cursed her lack of experience. How could she be on the cusp of turning thirty-five, having never had a proper first date? She thought it only fair to discount the one where Curtis had legged it halfway through.
‘Because the longer you leave it, the harder it will be. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of dates and it can be unbelievably depressing at times.’
‘Remind me again how you’re VP of Sales and Marketing with this kind of pitch?’ Eleanor cut in.
‘But.’ Sal grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘You deserve to find someone. And trust me, you’re not going to find themholed up in that flat of yours or having Sunday lunch with your mum. We have to get you out of your comfort zone!’
The words triggered something in her brain. Eleanor’s mind flashed back to the New Year’s resolutions she’d written.
Number 4: Do things that scare you.
Eleanor exhaled deeply and remembered the tiny note she’d added to the bottom of the page.
Find love?
‘Fine. If I agree to go ononemore date’ – she pointed her finger sternly at Sal, whose face had already lit up – ‘will you promise to get off my back about the whole thing?’
‘One million per cent.’
‘And if he runs away from me, I swear I will kill you.’ She took another large mouthful of wine. ‘Do you have a picture of him?’
Sal’s eyes glittered mischievously. ‘Of course.’ She scrolled through her phone and then slid it across the table triumphantly. Eleanor had barely had time to focus on the screen when her sister’s voice rang out.
‘Sorry I’m late, this place is anightmare. It took me about twenty minutes to fight my way across the room!’ Freya planted herself down and looked at the two glasses of wine on the table. ‘You’re kidding me? I have to battle my way through that all over again.’ She groaned.
Eleanor handed over her glass. ‘Just share mine for now.’ She tried to sneakily glance down at the face of the man staring up at her from Sal’s phone.
‘So, what do you think?’ Sal purred.
‘About what?’ Freya quipped. ‘What are we looking at?’ She craned her neck over the screen.
‘Nothing,’ Eleanor replied, a little too defensively. Freya’s face crumpled into a scowl.
‘Come on, you can’t invite me for drinks then exclude me from the conversation. Didn’t Mum teach you any manners?’
