Chapter 9
EMMA
‘Come on, just press it,’ Rachel said.
I took a deep breath, clicked ‘send’, then buried my face in my hands. ‘Oh God, I already think this is a mistake,’ I groaned.
‘It’s not a mistake, I promise,’ Rachel said. ‘It’s totally the right thing to do.’
I peeled my eyes open and peered at the screen where my profile picture smiled back at me like a girl who didn’t have a care in the world. This was definitely a mistake.
It was a couple of days since I’d last seen Nick and we’d talked about dating other people. Today, Rachel had just helped me set up my profile on Tinder.
‘Men love a widow,’ she said, when I questioned whether I should mention it.
‘I don’t want someone with a weird dead husband fetish,’ I said.
She’d put her hand on my arm and given me a stern look. ‘Emma Vickers, stop being so negative about this,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to find your next husband. You just need to have a bit of fun and stop thinking about a man you can’t have.’
That was easier said than done. Even thinking about Tinder made me think about Nick, and his confusion when I’d mentioned it all those weeks ago. At the time I’d thought he was just cute and old-fashioned. I could never have guessed the truth.
‘Fine, fine,’ I said, clicking my phone off.
‘What are you doing? You might be getting some matches as we speak,’ she said.
‘I’m not sitting here waiting to see if people like me,’ I said. ‘I’ll check it later.’ I frowned at her. ‘Anyway, how come you’re the dating app expert all of a sudden?’
She shrugged. ‘A few people at work use them and talk about them all the time. Apparently when you first sign up you get shown lots of hot men because they want you to keep paying for it.’
‘And after that?’
She looked sheepish. ‘Well, Suzanne said she now only gets men coming up on her app who look like thumbs.’
‘Oh great.’
‘But that doesn’t mean it will happen to you. Perhaps the algorithm just thinks she likes thumb-like men.’
I tucked my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and stood.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I need to get off,’ I said.
‘But I thought we were going for a couple of drinks? Iain’s all ready to look after the horrors.’
‘Sorry, Rach, I’ve got a splitting headache, I really just need to go home and go to bed.’
‘Have I pissed you off, making you sign up to this? Because you don’t have to do it. You can just delete it.’
I shook my head. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. I really am just tired. Drinks another day?’
She stuck out her bottom lip. ‘Sure. But make sure you check the app every now and then and don’t just ignore it, okay?’
‘Okay.’ I turned to leave.
‘Oh, and Em?’
‘Yes?’
‘Be nice to them, yeah?’
‘I’ll be charm personified,’ I said. I blew her a kiss and left. It wasn’t until I’d closed the front door behind me and started walking down the street towards home that I let myself think about the reality of dating other men.
When Nick had suggested it, I’d been sure I would never do it. I hadn’t been looking for anyone when we’d met and nothing had changed.
But the more I’d thought about it afterwards, the more I wondered whether Nick was right. Whether dating other people was the only way I was going to be able to move on – from him, and from Greg.
Rachel had jumped on the idea of course.
‘Does this mean you’re not going to see Nick ever again?’ she’d asked.
‘Not exactly. We’ve arranged to meet next Wednesday at the usual time.’
‘What for?’
I’d given her a look I’d hoped was disapproving. ‘Because we don’t want to completely cut off all contact. At least, not until we’re forced to.’
‘So is he planning to see someone else too?’
I shrugged. ‘I think so.’
The truth was I hadn’t wanted to ask him directly, or think about it since. Even though it was definitely the best thing for both of us, the thought of him with another woman made me feel empty inside.
‘Well at least you can compare notes,’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ I agreed.
Rachel had encouraged me to set up a profile on Tinder. ‘It’s impossible to find a man out there these days if you don’t use the apps,’ she’d said.
I’d reluctantly agreed. But I was already unsure.
I waited until I got home before I pulled out my phone to see if anyone had checked me out.
To my amazement there were already several messages.
Before I read them, I made myself a cup of coffee, then went through to the living room and sat down.
I stared at my phone, unsure whether to even open the messages. I mean, was this what I really wanted?
A shiver ran through me and I looked up.
I had a sudden overwhelming feeling that there was someone in the room with me.
My heart thumped and I stood slowly, and spun round.
I glanced out of the living room door and down the hallway towards the kitchen.
I checked under the stairs and behind the curtain. There was no one there.
But the sense that I wasn’t alone was still with me. And, I realised, it wasn’t a frightening feeling. More a comforting one.
Could it be…? No, don’t be daft.
But what if it was?
What if it was Nick? Or at least the spirit or the soul of him, in this house where he’d lived and loved.
A few weeks ago I would have laughed at myself for even thinking like this.
But now? Well, the truth was I had no idea what was and wasn’t possible.
We’d tried to force it and it hadn’t worked – but what if it could still happen from time to time, the same way the bandstand portal seemed to exist?
What if Nick was trying to tell me to get on with it?
But then again, what if he was trying to tell me he’d changed his mind?
I sat back down on the sofa and took a sip of coffee, staring at the messages from men who had seen my photo, letting them blur in front of my eyes. Could I do this?
Nick and I couldn’t have a future. I had to stop thinking about him.
I needed to choose someone for a date, so I might as well get on with it.
I clicked on the first message.
It was hard to believe the state of dating these days.
As I’d scrolled through some of the messages I’d received, I’d begun to wonder whether there were any normal single men left.
Men who didn’t offer to send dick pics, or talk about the weights they could lift, or tell me how much money they earned, or list all the dirty, seedy things they wanted to do to me.
I’d been about to give up when I’d read Aaron’s message.
He’d seemed nice. Better than nice. He looked handsome in his profile picture, a carefully chosen photo of him on a beach somewhere in shorts and T-shirt.
Not too showy, but nice enough. He claimed to like surfing, cycling and Italian cinema, and he seemed the most normal of all the men I’d matched with.
Best of all, he only lived a few miles away.
And now here I was, about to go into the restaurant he’d suggested and meet him.
I felt a bit sick.
My phone buzzed.
Rachel
Relax and be yourself and you’ll nail it! R x
I smiled at Rachel’s message, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
It was quiet in here and I spotted Aaron straight away. He stood as I walked towards the table, then held his hand out to shake mine when I got there. So far so good – no awkward fumbling cheek kisses. Plus, he looked pretty similar to his photo, rather than twenty years older and balding.
‘Lovely to meet you,’ he said, as we sat down.
‘You too.’
I noticed a bottle of sparkling water on the table, but nothing else.
‘I didn’t want to guess what you were drinking,’ he said, handing me the drinks menu. ‘Do you want to choose something?’
‘Thank you,’ I said, grateful for something to do so I didn’t have to think about what to say.
That had been something I’d worried about on the way here – what if we didn’t have anything in common, or there were long, awkward silences?
It had been more than a decade since I’d been on a first date with anyone, and Greg had always made it easy, the conversation flowing as he asked questions and told funny stories.
With Nick it had been different, an unexpected connection, not something either of us had been looking for but something that had just clicked without us even trying.
But a date was something else entirely, and I wasn’t sure I even knew what the rules were these days.
Luckily, Aaron was easy company. He admitted to being nervous too, and told me that he had been divorced for two years and was only just starting to date again.
He didn’t have kids, and he asked sensitive questions about Greg.
He was lovely, and seemed genuinely interested in me.
He was good-looking too, and by the end of the night I was beginning to think that perhaps Nick and Rachel had been right all along. Perhaps this really was what I needed.
We said goodnight and arranged to meet the following week. He kissed my cheek but didn’t push for anything more, and as I climbed into a taxi I realised I was smiling.
Well, that was unexpected.
By the time I pulled up outside my house, though, a sadness had started to descend, and I knew I probably wouldn’t see Aaron again after all.
Because no matter how lovely he was, he wasn’t Nick, and the magnetic pull I felt when I was with Nick simply wasn’t there between us.
It wouldn’t be fair on either of us for me to lead him on.
I paid the taxi driver and let myself into the house.
I knew Rachel was waiting for details of the date, but I wasn’t ready to dissect it just yet.
I had something I wanted to do first. I went into the living room, pulled out my laptop from down the side of the sofa, opened a new window then held my fingers above the keyboard. They hovered there, not moving.
I was itching to look for Nick. Despite what I’d told Rachel and the promise I’d made to Nick, I couldn’t stop thinking about him being out there somewhere, right now, and that I might be able to track him down.
And if he was out there, did he think about me? Was he with someone else? If he was still alive in 2019, then he’d be – what? Fifty-one. It was weird to think that. I was only thirty-seven, still young enough to have a baby, if it’s what I wanted.
He’d asked me not to look for him, and I understood his reasons.
But what if I tracked him down and he’d been waiting for me the whole time, hoping I wouldn’t listen to the 1999 version of him?
What then? We could be together and there would be no need for dating apps or anything else. Could I really go against his wishes?
What if he never forgave me?
My fingers quivered, undecided.
And then I closed the laptop and went to get myself a glass of wine.
I couldn’t do it.