‘Go on,’ Dylan said comfortingly.
I took a deep breath. ‘Let’s just say,’ I said, ‘that I turned out to be one of those houses that gets abandoned because the renovation is too hard.’
Dylan eyed me shrewdly. ‘Have you considered that maybe your ex absolutely fucking sucked?’
I made a strangled half-laugh.
She squeezed my hand. ‘I know I’ve only known you for, like, six hours,’ she said, her eyes warm as they looked into mine, ‘but I can tell you this with absolute certainty: you deserve someone who actually likes you.’
Now my laugh was a little more full, a little less strangled. ‘Maybe I’ll find them onMarry Me, Juliet.’
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘You and Mr Cardboard Cut-out Handsome Man could be the next Basil and Megan.’
‘Luna and Roger is probably more my speed.’
Dylan took another sip of champagne. ‘I’m interested. Explain.’
‘Basil and Megan are great together, but I always found him a bit intimidating,’ I said. ‘Roger’s so gentle. He has kind eyes. I like that in a man.’
We chatted for another half an hour or so before Dylan got a text from someone. ‘Shit, I have to go, sorry about this, Amanda,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s okay,’ I said. ‘I have to go and meet my friend anyway.’
Dylan and I hugged and exchanged numbers, but as I walked – slightly unsteadily, after two glasses of champagne, but on more solid ground than I had been for a long time – towards the bus stop, I wondered if I would ever see her again. They auditioned thousands of people around the country forMarry Me, Juliet. The chances of one of us getting on the show were slim, let alone both of us.
Maybe, I thought, sitting on the bus to Bec’s, it was like the one-night stand version of a friendship. I’d never had an actual one-night stand (I was very much a serial monogamist), so perhaps this was the closest I would ever come: one very nice, very pleasurable afternoon with a cool woman who could put into words some of the things I’d been struggling to express.
At 11.30 that night, though, my phone buzzed. I was three-quarters of the way asleep on Bec’s couch, and I rubbed my eyes sleepily as I looked at it.
Hey!Dylan had written.I had such a good time with you today & I want you to know I meant what I said – you deserve someone who actually likes you.
The three dots were blinking underneath. She was writing another message.
I remembered what you said about the worst features list on the application. Idea: go back and look at your best features list! You deserve someone who will see those things in you.
I sat up on the couch and shoved my hair out of my face.
Do it now,she wrote.I can see you saw this message. Don’t leave me on read.
OK, OK,I sent back.I’m doing it now.
I found my application receipt buried deep in my email. UnderWhat are your five best features?I’d written:
1) I’m not afraid of hard work.
2) I’m organised and methodical.
3) I’m not insecure about my looks.
4) I’m good at my job.
5) I have nice handwriting.
Oh no,I sent to Dylan.
????she sent back.
One of my things was ‘I have nice handwriting’.
