Chapter Nine #2
“They should be traveled, but not too traveled,” Nush continues, as I stare at her.
“I don’t care about their music taste so long as they don’t blare it around the house.
But no musicians. Or artists. Or anyone in any kind of creative field.
I find artistic types needy. I’d also prefer it if they were an animal lover.
That’s a hard line, actually. Can you write that down?
Good with animals. Financially, it would be nice if they did a little better than me.
But not too much. And not too rich. Rich brings its own problems. Religious but not too religious.
Just a little bit of faith. In terms of a fashion sense, they’d need—”
“Wait, wait, wait. We have a faith question.” I scan the list. “Do you care what that faith is?”
Nush shakes her head. “We’re all going to the same place.”
“I hope not,” Gemma mutters.
“And is the person you’re looking for a man or a woman or—”
“I’m not picky,” she dismisses. “But I want dark hair. And kind eyes.”
I smile at that. “Kind eyes?”
“And dark hair,” she repeats, her brow furrowing in fierce concentration before smoothing out completely. “That’s it. For now.”
Gemma gives her a dry look. “Good to see you being so open to potential partners.”
“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want. Did you get all that?”
“Uh…yes.” I scan through the list, trying to tick off everything she said. Nush leans over as I do, peering at the page.
“Can I ask the questions this time?”
“What time?”
“For you.”
“Oh.” I look up, surprised. “No, I’m not going to do it.”
“Just to see.”
“But I’m not looking for—”
Nush snatches the paper from my hand, sitting back with a toss of her hair.
“What do you look for in a partner?” she asks.
“It’s not hard.” Gemma mimics when I just blink. Which, okay, fair.
“No judgment,” Nush prompts, taking my pen next. “Safe space. What are your kinks?”
“My— I don’t know,” I say, bewildered. “Is that one on the list?”
“Now it is. Spill.”
“I don’t think I have any kinks.”
Nush purses her lips and writes something down. “So, would you say you’re more vanilla?”
“ No .”
“There’s nothing wrong with boring sex, Katie.”
“Just read the actual questions, please.”
Nush sighs in disappointment but does as she’s asked. “What do you look for in a partner?” she repeats.
“Someone nice?” It comes out like a question, but Nush nods.
“Very important. But let’s dig a little deeper. What drew you to your last partners? Did they make you laugh? Have really nice calf muscles? What did they have in common?”
“They were all assholes?” Gemma mutters, and I give her a look.
“They were not all assholes.”
“Two of them cheated on you.”
“Only one for sure,” I say, not knowing why I’m defending them. “Graham—”
“Cheated on you,” the girls say in unison.
“Definitely,” Nush adds. “He was texting that girl for months before you broke up.”
Whatever. “Harry’s not an asshole,” I tell them. “And neither was Isaac. Isaac was a doctor.”
“Who still had his mother do his laundry for him.”
“She liked helping!”
“Do the next question,” Gemma says, but I shake my head.
“No, wait. Can’t I also say kind eyes or something?”
“Put down ‘not a dickhead’,” Gemma says instead, and Nush does before I can stop her.
“Is their job choice important to you?” she asks.
“No,” I say. “Well, yes. I guess I don’t want them to be away a lot. I want to spend time with people. Not just see them in the evening for an hour. But if their job’s important, that’s okay too,” I add hastily. “Some people have busy jobs.”
Nush murmurs each word as she writes it out. “Does…not…know…anything.”
“Hey!”
“What do you do for a living?”
“No, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“We’re almost at the end,” she says pleasantly. “What do you do?”
“You know what I do. I work at a pub.”
“And do you like it?”
“Yes,” I say, fully sarcastic now. “I get to spend my days with my friends.”
“So, community is important to you.”
I pause at the seriousness of her tone. “Well, yeah,” I say. “Community is important.”
“And besides your job, what are your hobbies?”
Hobbies?
Nush goes back through to the notes when I don’t say anything. “Examples include going to the movies, going to the gym, learning, playing piano—”
“ Learning ?” Gemma scoffs.
“—photography, stand-up comedy—”
“Katie, where the hell did you get this form?”
“—listening to music, volunteering—”
“Volunteering,” I say quickly. “I do that. I do lots of that.”
Nush makes another tick. “And where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Here.”
Both sets of eyes swing my way.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Gemma says, as Nush smiles a beat too late before writing it down.
Something squirms in my stomach, and Gemma sits forward like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Katie—”
“Am I boring?” I interrupt.
“Kind of,” Nush says, before Gemma can respond.
“You’re busy ,” Gemma says, shooting her a look. “Not boring.”
“I don’t have any hobbies.”
“Because you’re busy.”
“I don’t have any ambition.”
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t need ambition. You have everything you need.”
Nush nods in agreement. “There is nothing wrong with a simple life.”
“I’m not a Hobbit!” I slump down as my existential crisis grows. “I don’t even know what I want in a partner. How can I run a matchmaking festival when I don’t even know what I want? How do you know?” I ask Nush, who shrugs.
“I’ve always had an excellent sense of self.”
“And what about you?” I demand to Gemma. “Do you know?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “I’m not looking for anyone right now.”
“But you still know,” I press.
“I mean… yeah ,” she says, still reluctant. “He’d obviously have to be good for Noah. And I guess I’d like someone with a steady job. Financially secure.” A pause. “I like brown eyes,” she adds on a mumble, and Nush brightens.
“Yes, brown eyes. I love brown eyes. I’m putting that down for me too. Kind brown eyes.”
“And I’ve always had a thing for arms,” Gemma says, as I stare at them.
“And backs,” Nush says. “Muscly backs.”
Gemma nods. “Or when they—”
“Okay, matchmaking over,” I announce, getting to my feet. “You’re right. It’s a bad idea. I’ll get someone proper to do it.”
“But I thought you—”
“I’ll figure it out,” I say, only to jump as a sudden bang echoes off the walls, followed by two more even louder ones that occur in such quick succession, it’s almost deafening.
“What the hell is that?” Gemma yells, as Nush slaps her hands over her ears.
She looks up as if the roof is about to cave in, but after living down the road from a construction site for the past few weeks, I know exactly what it is, and am already moving, following the noise out of the barn and across the field to where the grass meets the forest. The girls follow and we’re only a minute or two through the trees before we see them.
Two construction vehicles and a dozen men in the near distance, all standing aside as they fell an oak tree while another splinters to pieces in a whirring machine.
“It’s the golf club,” I say, as the three of us stare at the destruction in front of us. “They’re making way for the golf club.”
“They’re going to end up clearing half the forest at this stage. There won’t be anywhere to— Nush !” Gemma grabs Anushka, clutching her into a bear hug as she tries to march forward.
“I’m going to kill them,” Nush snaps, wriggling violently.
“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Gemma mutters.
“There’s nothing we can do. Right now, anyway.
” Her eyes meet mine over Nush’s head, her mouth a thin line.
“We’re going to need a really big raffle,” she says, and I can only nod as they feed another branch into the machine, the noise growing louder until it’s all I can hear.