‘Like, what if they shaved off the bottom of all the stools and table legs so everything wobbles a bit, just to upset us?’
‘Unsteadiness in the mindandin the physical environment,’ she nods admiringly, as though I haven’t just uttered total horror. ‘Carys, you might be an evil mastermind. You could have had an incredible career in reality television in the 2000s.’
‘I’m not sure that should be a compliment,’ I laugh awkwardly, but I still take it as one.
Now I’m not spiralling, I notice her outfit: a two-piece Bardot top and ankle-length skirt in black and white, creating a kind of curved yin yang shape that mirrors the curves of her hips. It looks incredible and somehow effortless on her. I hope I’m not staring. ‘Are you feeling ready?’ I ask instead.
‘I think so?’ She leans in a bit closer like we’re sharing a secret. Her perfume is all spices and a hint of something light, maybe citrus, but underneath it is a deep heavy oud. The men won’t get to enjoy it so I guess this is just for her. The last embers of panic-fire snuff out as I breathe her in. ‘Actually, no. Not at all,’ she admits.
‘Me neither.’ I push a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Even if she is nervous, you wouldn’t know from looking. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel grown up, like one day it’ll click into place. To me, Dolly is an end-point, a goal of who I’d like to be. I want to drink her in, learn everything about her. Perhaps that’s a bit intense, but that’s how it feels. I want to bridge that gap between us somehow.
‘Ooh, here we go,’ mumbles Dolly as a member of production walks in. ‘That’s Louise, my handler.’
‘Morning, everyone,’ calls Louise, raising her reusablecoffee cup in the air in a kind of cheers gesture. ‘How are we today? Good? Nervous? Excited? Bit of both? Great!’ She doesn’t leave time for us to answer. ‘I’m here to give you a rundown of how today will go.’
I take my notebook and try to make notes as she speaks, but it all rushes past me in a blur. Is she being serious? Five individual hour-long dates with a new man each time, and the same tomorrow? Five inoneday? Ten men in two days? Apparently this is only news to me, because Dolly nods along like she’s heard all this before.
Maybe this is why my sisters were worried. The social load is higher than I thought it would be. I’m already shaking like a shitting dog, and nothing has even happened yet!
I think about what they’d say.Calm, Carys.
There’s no eye contact, no body language masking. It’s just you in an empty room, and your voice. And the cameras, but you’ve spent your whole life finding ways to stim that are deemed ‘more normal’.
I’m here now. Walking in ignorant was my choice. I have to live with it.
And hope that someone likes me.
Though, will they want me overstimulated? My snappiest, most frazzled, the part of me that feels animal-raw?
I try never to let anyone I’m casually dating see that version of me. I know that when I’m engaged or living with someone, they’ll seethatme. Eventually. What if they see me, and change their mind?
Louise’s five-minute warning startles me out of my anxiety, and I watch as she disappears out the door we’ll be walking through to start this whole process.
‘Five is so many.’ My words come out in a flat murmur.
‘Somany,’ sighs Dolly. ‘When’s a girl gonna have time to eat? I noticed there was no mention of a lunch break.’
‘Exactly, the priorities are all wrong. There’d better be good snacks.’
‘Reallygood snacks.’ Dolly stands up straight. ‘I think this will be the most men I’ve spoken to in one day since I had to take my car to the garage. And I didn’t want to talk to most ofthem.’
‘Hopefully you’ll be a bit more thrilled about today’s men.’
‘At least they’re behind a wall, so if they utterly annoy me, I can roll my eyes as much as I like.’
‘I imagine that did not go down well at the garage.’
‘Oh no, I’m positive they charged me more, but fair enough. The dickhead tax got me.’
‘The dickhead tax?’ She has such funny sayings that I want to write them down.
‘Yeah, you know, when someone ups the prices to factor in dealing with someone you’d rather push off a cliff. Or like if you’re freelancing and you don’t actually want to do whatever it is, so you charge three times as much to make up for not wanting to do it.’ She glances at me sideways, then looks at the wall. ‘Not that I’veeverdone that to any of my clients,’ she adds in a theatrically honest voice.
I burst into giggles.
‘Hey, come on,’ she whispers with a smile. ‘I’m trying to keep my clientele.’
