I laughed with him a little. ‘No, no, sorry, I couldn’t resist. But I do believe pigeons are government drones and Finland doesn’t exist, just so you know.’
‘I mean, of course, right?’ Nico playfully affirmed. I could feel Chlo’s eyes briefly glance in our direction and begin to soften, slightly satisfied that the courting situation had been somewhat recovered for the time being.
‘So, what do you do, Nico?’ I hated small talk but Chlo insisted it was vitally important for first dates, so I had googled some questions beforehand and wrote them as notes on my phone.
‘I work for Transport For London.’
‘What part?’
‘Security and Operations. I basically look at a lot of CCTV footage.’
‘Oh, I was hoping you would be able to make the Northern Line less noisy.’
‘No such luck, I’m afraid,’ he teasingly remarked. I felt like I was doing well, Londoners love a few jokey jabs at the different Tube lines: how gross and old the Bakerloo was, how busy the Central was, it always worked a treat as an icebreaker. ‘And what do you do?’ he asked, quickly, barely missing a beat.
‘You’re not going to like this one bit.’
‘No? Try me,’ Nico goaded, looking far more interested.
‘I work at a funeral directors.’
‘Oh wow. That’s… interesting.’
There it was again. But maybe it was a little more authentic this time. It looked a little genuine, not loaded with an intense glare, a pregnant pause and vigorous nodding, like you’re trying to sound interested in your company’s new expenses policy. Maybe he was actually curious to know more about my job. I suppose itwasquite unusual, and surely it was better than saying I was the regional paperclip auditor assistant for Slough or something.
‘Isn’t it?’ I said, finally starting to feel that while Nico was maybe not second-husband material, perhaps he would at the very least make for some interesting conversation tonight. This felt like the social equivalent of eating my vegetables, I wasn’t exactly loving it, but it was satisfying to know it was probably good for me. Plus, it gave me a bit of mental distance from obsessing over whether the recorder had been delivered and picked apart by the police already. It was still hogging most of my brain’s RAM, but at least there was something else running in the foreground now.
‘And tell me, do you have any hobbies or interests, Ruth?’ he asked with a soft smile. Funny, had he also read Buzzfeed’s ‘50 first date questions that guarantee a second’?
‘Well, if I had to be honest, I guess my main one would probably be serial killers.’
Chlo’s eyes snapped back to me,What in the Lord’s name areyou doing?I could hear her telepathically shout into my mind.Abort, Abort.
‘Right?’ Nico said, really extending the vowel as he spoke. ‘Like, what are we talking about here? A fan of serial killers and their work, or…?’
‘Oh no, no,’ I quickly interjected. ‘I’m not a serial killer, or even really afanof serial killers. It’s just that after my… well,our–’ I corrected myself for Chlo’s inclusion, even though she joined Greta and my friendship group a bit late. ‘… close friend, Greta…’
I paused, debating whether to mention the fact that she was murdered, until I realised it was actually relevant.
‘… was killed by the TellTale Killer, I realised that society has this strange fascination with serial killers, you know?’ I said, stumbling over my words as Nico’s face grew slightly aghast. ‘I mean, don’t you think they’re interesting? I guess it’s the horror of it? How could anyone ever do what they do? How could anyone be that depraved? There’s something interesting to dissect there, right?’
Yet again, not the best choice of words, I know.
I could tell I was losing Nico, at least I think I was; I had to reel him back in – not for my sake, of course, but for Chlo’s. There’s nothing like a double date mood killer than one party looking like they’re absolutely repulsed by the other.
‘Like, get this, there’s a myth that most serial killers have above-average IQs? Ted Bundy had 136, Edmund Kemper had 145, and Jeffrey Dahmer too, but those are just the highly publicised cases, most serial killers actually have below-average intelligence, if you can believe it.’
That was a really interesting fact, I was sure it would win him over.
‘How doyoueven know about this?’ Nico asked. There was a look on his face I couldn’t quite decipher. I was 61% sure it was disgust.
‘Ruthie, come on, that’s enough now,’ Chlo pleaded, but Iwasn’t done. Nico had put the silver dime in the jukebox; he had to let me play. I had to prove to him I wasn’tthatcrazy.
Nico’s eyes were almost squinting, his rather marvellous nose crumpled up and his upper lip had curved up to reveal one of his ever-so-slightly crooked front teeth. He was actually a very pretty man, I realised.
‘It also takes on average about seven years to catch a serial killer, don’t you think that’s quite interesting too?’ I asked, hoping that the more facts I threw at him, the more I could win him back.
‘Actually, I think it’s a bit sick,’ Nico responded, yanking up his coat and turning towards the door of the restaurant. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Sorry. Early start. I’ll see you tomorrow, Oscar,’ he said as he practically sprinted out of the door to escape me.
