With one last glance in the mirror, I straighten my back and stand a little taller, welding a smile to my face. I’ve alreadymade Dolly laugh; I can befriend the other eight women out there. Bridget seems friendly. Maybe we’ll all fall in love with the men of our dreams (individually, with no competition), and there’ll be no fights and it’ll all be chill and nice and edited into a nice show… Right?
I fling open the door with too much gusto and it clatters hard against the wall, making me flinch. The sound echoes through the warehouse like a struck drum.
There’s no time to be nervous or scared of myself; I need to bury all that. It’s time to be friendly, approachable, supportive Carys. A girl’s girl.
When we stride into the living room, all the other women are curled up on the couches and stare right at me. It’s unnerving but probably because I just slammed a door loudly. I can do this.
With all the false courage I can muster, I loudly announce, ‘Let’s get ready to find our men, girlies!’
To my relief, they all whoop and cheer.
Bridget jumps up, dislodging soft furnishings and almost several drinks. ‘Yes, babe! Let’s get this party started!’
I follow Bridget to the bar where she empties the end of the Prosecco into the last bronze cup for me. ‘There’s tiddly in there, babe, sorry.’
‘For the best,’ I say as I take it from her. ‘Drinks-Carys can come out to play another night.’
Bridget laughs throatily. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her.’
I’m so glad there’s someone else Welsh here – we’ve got something to bond over.
With a hand on the small of my back, she leads me to the couches. I notice Dolly has perched herself on an arm next to the incredibly beautiful girl with the braids, and they’re already chatting away. There’s no space for me to sit there, so I squeeze in next to Bridget and an Irish girl who immediatelyintroduces herself as Niamh. She tells us that Lina, the girl with long black hair, is Scottish, so we can all bond over how strange English people are. I smile and laugh, though obviously, I don’t want to be bitchy because I am a girl’s girl to all now.
I try to keep up with all the names as conversations slip and slide over each other around me.
Three near-identical tanned girls with long blonde hair sit together, and I glean they are somehow all called Hannah. There’s a Hannah C., a Hannah P. and a Hannah S., though I’m not yet sure who is who. With Bridget, they look like a matching set.
‘Sooooo,’ says Niamh loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. ‘What are we looking for in a man?’
‘A man with nice teeth,’ says one of the Hannahs with a clipped Southern accent, which causes a few people to burst into laughter. ‘Look, I can handle anything but bad teeth!’
Whit leans forward to look right at her. ‘Hang on, I thought the whole point is that we can’t see what they look like?’
‘Only for the first two dates, and then we get the face reveal.’ Bridget gestures violently with her now emptied cup. ‘Hannah C. is right – looks matter. We’re just giving them a chance to flash their personality first. This isn’tLove Is Blind, babes.’
‘More like Love is Blurry,’ says Dolly, and this time I manage a much more controlled, pretty and crucially snort-less laugh. An on-camera laugh. A wifely laugh.
‘Teeth matter!’ insists Hannah C. ‘They’re like the windows to the soul.’
‘More like to your mouth,’ Whit counters.
‘Isn’t that the eyes?’ Niamh asks.
Hannah C. gasps. ‘Why would you put someone’s eyes in your mouth?’
‘Come on, you’ve got to be attracted to your partner,’ insists Priya, a woman who radiates Grown-Up Adult vibes.
‘We all want a wee ride to come home to,’ agrees Niamh.
Whit nods. ‘Yeah, I’m not getting engaged to someone I don’t want toengagewith, but I don’t have any preconceptions about his looks.’
‘So, whatareyou looking for?’ Dolly asks.
Whit laughs awkwardly. ‘I have no expectations of finding someone who wants to dateme. Even if they like me, surgeons basically live at the hospital. Our hours can be nuts. It’s why hospital staff date each other, but I don’t want to shit where I eat.’
Dolly barks with laughter, as Priya coughs awkwardly.
‘It would be cool to meet someone who likes me and isn’t bothered by that being a big part of my life. I guess I’m onWedded Blissfor a good time, if not a long time,’ explains Whit, and my God, I wish I could be that relaxed about anything. Maybe when you’re used to slicing people open, a reality television dating show feels like small fry.
