‘What have you done?’
Guilt oozes from her every pore. ‘Did you hear of that new dating site, Finding Forever?’
I nearly choke on my tea as it splutters through my nose and drips unceremoniously down my chin. ‘The one that’s like a thousand euro for a month’s membership?’
‘That’s the one. Although apparently most people only need a week’s membership, they’re supposed to be that good at matchmaking.’ She shrugs. ‘Alex did some IT work for them. He basically debugged the new website, so they gave him a month’s free membership as a thank you, along with a pretty generous fee. I almost clocked him with a nappy when he came in the door with the paperwork for it. Then I realised it was a gift that he might not be able to avail of, but you, my dear friend, certainly can.’
‘Please!’ My temperature raises ten degrees even thinking about it. ‘Dating sites were fine in London, in fact, they were practically essential. Here in Dublin? No way.’ I don’t add that there’s no point, because the only man who fills my every thought at the minute is Ollie Quinn.
‘Think about it. This is the most expensive, exclusive matchmaking service there is. Any man that pays that kind of money for membership is serious. They’re looking for wife material. Trust me, if you want number six to mean something, you won’t find a better place than here.’
I throw a tea towel at her head and she smirks. That’s the problem with having such a good friend. She knows me and my little quirks far too well.
‘It’s probably full of old men, sugar daddies looking for candy. You know money doesn’t impress me. I need integrity, intelligence, a whole heap of sexy, with a side helping of stability if they’re going to pass the Harrington test. You know my family are convinced I need to marry a surgeon or something, preferably one that’s a Catholic virgin.’
‘Yes, because I’m sure a Catholic virgin is exactly the man to help your inability to cross the finish line in the boudoir.’ She wiggles her eyebrows at me and sniggers hard enough to make me wish I’d never confided in her about that.
‘Do you think there’s something wrong with me?’ I concentrate on blowing on my tea so I don’t have to look her in the eye. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing something wrong. Any time I’ve been intimate with a guy the predominant emotion I feel is boredom, followed closely by disappointment. Maybe it’s the fear of letting go? Or getting hurt? I don’t know.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You just haven’t met your match yet.’ She gives my arm a supportive squeeze.
‘I don’t think I’m likely to meet my match on some stupid website either.’ The huff that slips out is worse than something one of the twins might spout.
‘Pah, what have you got to lose? You’re twenty-four, not ninety-four. Live a little.’ Her hand swats the air in front of her face.
‘Some days I feel fifty-four.’
‘That’s because you’re always running, or cycling, or swimming. There is such a thing as putting your body under too much pressure.’
Geri is dangerously close to stumbling across my secret hobby, my triathlons. I haven’t even told her about them, not wanting to be pitied for privately want to prove myself good at something.
‘Whatever, I’m not using that website. Tell Alex to give it to someone else.’
‘It’s too late for that. I already signed you up.’
‘You are fucking joking me?’ I rarely ever drop the F-bomb, so when I do, Geri knows I mean business.
‘If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times… it’s better to beg forgiveness than—’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ I exhale the breath that’s suddenly caught in my chest. She might have registered me for this site, but I have no intention of using it. I’m not swiping through hundreds of photos to see who I recognise from school, or any other place in this too-small city. Everyone knows everyone in Dublin. It wouldn’t take a detective to work out who I am.
‘It’ll be fun.’ Geri squeezes my arm again.
‘Funny, that’s exactly what you said when you persuaded me to go skinny-dipping last year and those boy scouts stole our clothes from the beach. I will never be able to look your husband in the eye again after he had to rescue us stark bollock naked with the kids laughing out the window of the car.’
‘You want excitement, stick with me, kid. I’ve got you covered.’ She winks at me, before taking a sip from her own mug, which says: If you like the shoe, buy it in every colour.
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘You don’t have to give anyone your last name. Hell, you don’t even have to use your proper first name. Introduce yourself as whatever you like. All your information is completely confidential unless you want to share it.’ I’ve heard that tone a hundred times, it’s the same one she uses when coaxing her children to eat broccoli.
‘I told you, I’ll think about it.’ Perhaps it might take my mind off the one man I can’t have. Only someone very special would possess that ability. I’m not sure he even exists.
‘Well don’t take too long because you have a date next Saturday night, seven o’clock sharp at that fancy Indian restaurant on the southside.’
‘What? You have got to be kidding me?’ I jump to my feet and leap towards Geri’s freezer in search of my favourite go-to – ice cream. I don’t care if it’s barely lunch time, this is an emergency.
‘Second drawer down at the back.’ Even as I’m grateful, I hate that she knows what I’m looking for, the same way she knows Indian cuisine is my absolute favourite. At least the food should be good.
