Chapter 6
6
TOM
I leave Nadia s shortly after our plus-one agreement (which was either pure genius or an incredibly stupid suggestion; I m not sure which), because it s quarter past two in the morning and Nadia s hidden a yawn more than a couple of times, and she s already gone massively above and beyond this evening for someone who only a few hours ago was a complete stranger.
Thank you again, I say as she opens her front door. I m genuinely feeling quite cheery, which is astonishing. I make a big effort and don t actually say Lola s name out loud; I m aware that I might have sounded somewhat broken-record-like this evening.
I really hope that s true, Nadia says.
I mean, of course it is, I say as jovially as I can. Because we have our plus-one problems sorted.
We do indeed. She grins at me and I grin back (Nadia s smiles are infectious) and then we share a quick hug before I step outside her flat and she says, Goodnight, and closes the door behind me and clinks some locks.
* * *
I decide to splash out on an Uber because I don t think there s an easy night bus route from Nadia s to mine, and also I ve had a shit evening.
A Prius arrives very quickly and I hop inside and we begin to drive along empty main roads at way over the speed limit.
As I stare out of the car windows at street-light-illuminated rain, I realise that the evening hasn t all been shit. Yes, the Lola thing has been gut-wrenchingly awful, but meeting Bea, Ruth, Carole and Nadia and forming our little group is the kind of experience that happens very rarely and really does restore your belief in the inherent decency of people. I really do think we ll probably stay in touch. And the fake-plus-one thing: I mean, given that I will almost certainly not be getting back together with Lola after all, and, having been reminded of Lola, am unlikely to want to date anyone else any time soon, it could be like a genuine gift from heaven to avoid are-you-dating questions. And I m sure that Nadia will understand if I have to pull out of our agreement if Lola and I do get back together.
Yeah, Lola and I are clearly not going to get back together. I know that. It s really difficult not to hope, though.
I m home way more quickly than I should have been, due to the driver s speeding (I point out to him when I get out that it s dangerous to drive that fast on residential roads and realise from the look in his eye that he ll be giving me a one-star passenger rating), and go straight to bed, because I m very tired.
* * *
I cannot sleep. It s 3.45a.m. and I am wide, wide awake. Too much caffeine. And too many circular thoughts about Lola. It s weird. I m not usually a big thinker like this, I usually just get on with things, but apparently tonight I can t.
I never have insomnia. Unsurprisingly, it s as shit as everyone unfortunate enough to suffer with it regularly says it is.
I ask the internet what to do. The internet has a lot of advice.
I turn my pillow over to the cool side. Doesn t work. I feel very drowsy for a minute and then think about how I will not be sharing a pillow with Lola and suddenly I m wide awake.
I get up and walk round the room. Doesn t work in the slightest. It makes me feel less drowsy.
I get up and go to the kitchen and have a glass of water. Now I m even wider awake. Who knew that water was a stimulant. (I Google and the internet tells me that it isn t unless you were dehydrated before you drank it. Maybe I was.)
I make a list of things I m worried about. Lola. Monday lunchtime s tricky work meeting. The leak in my bathroom. Feeling like shit for the next couple of days because of being up all night tonight.
At least it s Sunday and I have nothing on today. Thank goodness my parents extended family barbecue has been postponed until next Sunday because of the extreme rain this weekend.
The thought of the barbecue reminds me of Lola again because, if I m honest, before they postponed it I think I might have been imagining taking her there with me. I am really not going to be amused by the chat there will be about how I am now the only one of my siblings and cousins still not married for life. I can literally hear my Aunt Laura going tick, tock, Tom, and then cackling with laughter.
I wonder if Nadia s free next Sunday. We could kick off the plus-one thing right now.
On the spur of the moment, I send her a message asking her.
And then I…
* * *
Yeah, thankfully I went to sleep.
Also thankfully, I didn t set an alarm, so I actually get six hours sleep in before I wake up, very disorientated because I basically never have a lie-in.
The first thing I do (pathetically) is reach for my phone and check for a response from Lola. I can see that she s been active online in the past half hour (and I know that she saw my message last night) but there s nothing. Which shouldn t be a surprise, but gives me a sinking, life-is-just- boring feeling all over again.
I haven t heard back from Nadia but I m sure I will. She s one of those people who you sense from the off are reliable.
Okay, I m not going to wallow. I m going to go to the gym and then message my mate Dom to see if he wants to go for a couple of beers later. It would be ridiculous to let this Lola thing get to me too much. I hadn t even thought about her for a while before she texted last week.
I am not going to think about her any more.
I think about her the second I get out of the shower when I check my phone for the message she has of course not sent. It s becoming a ridiculous compulsion.
I don t let myself look at my phone until after I finish in the gym.
Lola has obviously not messaged.
Bea has, though. She s reiterating her invitation to us all to their wedding, which will be very soon. That makes me smile.
And Nadia has replied. It turns out she s one of those people who sends a stream of messages rather than one long one. Also, she likes a capitalised emphasis.
Morning (just). I had a big lie-in. I could NOT get to sleep after all that coffee – did you sleep??
And are you okay?
I would very happily be your plus-one next Sunday
I have a plus-one question for you: work summer drinks – I don t want to go for long but I would LOVE to go and take someone for an hour to show Sammy (the blind date setter-upper) and Dougie (the blind date no-shower) that I am NOT the biggest loser they have ever met
And on the subject of Dougie OMG
I ve had a message from him via Sammy via my friend Marisa (or the other way round, not sure which way that should be written) and HONESTLY
He totally WOULD have shown up (he says) BUT he hooked up with someone else that afternoon and was too busy having sex to remember to message me to let me know he wouldn t be showing up and also he didn t think it would be tactful to the woman he was having sex with to message another one even if just to pre-date dump her. WHAT A LOVELY MAN
I m laughing as I type my reply.
Yep, I also had a caffeine no-sleep issue, which internet tips were no help with whatsoever; decaf next time I have four cups after midnight. I m actually okay, thank you. And thank you so much about the barbecue next Sunday. I ll send details. Absolutely about your summer drinks – what s the date, though? If I m busy I m sure I can switch things round so that we can pop in for an hour. And Dougie – what a tit. No other word.
I see the beginnings of another stream of consciousness, which I already know I m going to love.
Glad you re okay
Thank you about the drinks!!
They re this Thursday, 6p.m. until late
Er, I have to warn you that there s a theme
Although actually as an anonymous plus-one I m sure you don t have to stick to it
And then maybe I won t either
I wait but that s it. Now I m intrigued. I have to ask.
What is that theme?
Well.
My boss is a big cartoon fan (kids films only, any era)
And so
We – all adults, mainly over thirty – have to dress up as a cartoon character, with a penalty if we go boring
I m laughing again.
I can do any time Thursday from about seven onwards and I do have to admit that I own a Tom (as in Jerry) costume.
Thank you thank you thank you about Thursday
On the costume: without being rude I think Michael (boss) would classify Tom and Jerry as boring. His example of the MOST well known we re allowed to go is Hades from Hercules
Sorry WHO? Very hard work to find?? Let s go very unambitious on the costume and you can blame me. What if we say we re going on somewhere smart afterwards?
Perfect – you re a genius
I stumble through the rest of Sunday tired and kind of morose about Lola (I despise myself for how often I check for messages from her and, obviously, find nothing), but really not as miserable as I might have been, for which I have to thank my old friends (I go for a pint with a couple of my best friends) but also my new Waterloo friends. Nadia, obviously, and also the others; Bea and Ruth send some follow-up messages about their wedding – they re planning to set a date tomorrow once venue offices are open – and Carole messages to thank us all for our support and to confirm that she s booted Roger out, and it s genuinely nice to hear from them.
It s a busy week for me at work – I m a deputy head in a big comprehensive, which involves very few dull days – which makes it easier for me not to think about Lola and her no-show too much (okay, if I m honest I do think about it more than I would like but I do manage to obsess less as the week goes on, helped by busyness and some excellent motivational messages from Nadia, which just make me laugh).
Before I know it, we ve arrived at Thursday.
We ve agreed to meet under the Waterloo clock again. I m slightly delayed and sprint across the concourse once I m free of the heaving escalators emerging from the Tube, because I really don t want Nadia to think she s been stood up twice in five days.
I can see her looking in the opposite direction from me and call, Nadia, hi, from a few metres away.
She spins round, nearly knocking a man carrying a tiny dog flying, says, Sorry, sorry, to him and then, with a huge smile, says to me, Thank you so much for doing this for me.
Hey, no, my pleasure.
We exchange a hug and then Nadia says, That way, pointing at the main exit.
Sorry I m a bit late, I say as we begin to move in the direction that leads to the South Bank. I was helping out with an after-school swimming club that we do at one of the local pools, because one of the sports teachers is on parental leave this week, and two kids pushed two others in fully clothed, which led to a lot of unforeseen hassle. There was one point during our tapas dinner with the others where Carole asked us about our jobs, so I know that Nadia works in accountancy (and doesn t love it) and I know that she knows what I do.
How fully clothed were they? asks Nadia, sounding awed.
Shoes, bags, the works. They shouldn t have been next to the pool like that in the first place. But they were. They both had phones on them, which are probably ruined. One of those situations where a kid does something that affords them a few seconds of gratification and causes a lot of adults a huge amount of admin to sort it out.
It probably caused them more than a few seconds gratification, Nadia says. Looking on the bright side.
True. Especially when one of the lifeguards lost it and called them effing little shits. Which, if I m honest, was the high point of my working day too, because clearly I cannot say that to them, but it did sum up the situation perfectly.
Nadia laughs. Well. In the circumstances I m amazed that you made it to meet me pretty much on time.
I resist the temptation to hug her in gratitude that she s so understanding and remind myself that I should not conflate all women ( any women, or people, in fact) and that just because my ex-wife used to go mad if I was late back from a school thing (a common occurrence in an expect-the-unexpected job), it doesn t mean other people will.
Instead, I say, Obviously it s disappointing that I didn t have time to don my Tom costume.
Well fortunately, Nadia says, I brought you something to wear.
You did? I m not big into fancy dress if I m honest.
I went simple. Just to show willing for Michael, who really is quite a mean boss. She opens the large bag she has over her shoulder and pulls out two bunny headbands. Bugs Bunny, she tells me. Obviously not as niche as Hades from Hercules , but it s a small effort. Hopefully there ll be a critical mass of people not joining in. But just in case…
Good thinking. Everyone should carry bunny ear headbands in their bag to cover all eventualities. So, is there anything I should know before we go in? Do we need to have a story that we have to get straight?
Well, basically Sammy has the emotional maturity of a toddler and has spent the entire week sniggering about me getting stood up on Saturday night. I ve just been smiling and telling him that honestly it was the best thing that could have happened to me. My lovely colleague Marisa, whose maturity level is similar to his but who is an amazing friend, has been taking positive action like putting salt in his coffee and chewing gum on his chair. I m thinking that sticking to the truth is always the best thing, so we should maybe just say we met at Waterloo station on Saturday during a false bomb alarm and it s really early days but we re enjoying each other s company.
That s the perfect story, I approve. Then if we don t know stuff about each other, all good.
Exactly.
I actually cannot understand why Nadia has such bad dating luck. Objectively, she s very attractive – pretty face, tanned skin, great hair – and she s also lovely, as demonstrated by the fact that she s now delicately asking me about Lola and how I m feeling.
Yeah, no, no reply, and I m trying to ignore the whole thing. I think I d still like to look for her – see her in person, get closure – but not right now.
Makes sense, she tells me. It will be okay. And weirdly, I feel like she s right, and I feel a little better.
* * *
The work do is in a café on the South Bank; Nadia s boss Michael has rented out the whole of the upstairs.
The food will be shit. Nadia hands me my Bugs Bunny ears as we traipse up the stairs behind a Minnie Mouse, a Donald Duck and a Cinderella. (Clearly no-one heeded the boss s request that the characters be niche.) But I hear that the views are great.
When we enter, we re almost immediately surrounded by people who Nadia clearly knows well.
Nadia introduces me as Tom, with no explanation, and from the way her eyes are dancing and she looks as though she s about to giggle I can see that she s enjoying being mysterious. I m enjoying it too if I m honest. I m saying, Hi, I m Tom, and shaking hands and offering no explanation whatsoever about myself, and it s genuinely good entertainment watching the who- is -he pantomime unfold.
Nadia manoeuvres us slightly further into the room, and I quickly realise why: my hand is shaken by a tall, thin man, who s dressed in a very sharp brown, checked suit and pointy shoes, with no concession whatsoever made to the Disney theme (unless he s a cinematic villain I haven t heard of), and Nadia introduces us.
Tom, this is Sammy.
Hey. Tommmm, he says. I do not like his smirk. I m guessing you re Nadia s brother.
Brother ! I feign exaggerated horror. Do I look like her brother?
Housemate? Sammy asks, his eyes going between the two of us like he s watching a table tennis match. University friend?
Nope, I say. We re… I look at Nadia, smile fondly in her direction, and then let my smile drop as I return my gaze to Sammy. It s early days. We don t want to label things yet.
I don t know where that sentence came from but I m pretty proud of myself.
I think Nadia s impressed by my innovation too, because she grins at me before saying soulfully to Sammy, That s right. Early days.
Early days of what?
I do not appreciate his scoff. I d like to swear at him, but these are Nadia s work drinks and I m here to make her life better, not worse, so I say, Of our relationship? like he s really stupid. And then I put my arm round Nadia s shoulders and she puts her arm round my waist, and I smile soppily down at her while keeping an eye on Sammy in my periphery, and say, Shall we go and find some food?
Good idea.
Great to meet you, Sammy, I say and draw Nadia away from him.
OMG, she whispers as we go. That was perfect . He s such a snake .
He really bloody is, I agree.
We wander over to a corner before removing our arms from each other so we can grab some of the many canapés being circulated on platters.
They look delicious.
They do not taste delicious.
You weren t wrong about the food, I tell Nadia after I swallow a strange gelatinous thing as quickly as I can.
She nods and points at her mouth and chews a lot.
You have to swallow, I tell her.
Can t.
I look round and grab a couple of napkins from a table to my right.
Thank you, she says, having discreetly removed the chewy thing and then hidden her napkin-wrapped mouthful under some cutlery on an unused plate on the same table. I don t know what I was thinking. Never eat anything at these events. Michael uses the same outside caterer every time, and anyone with any common sense learns their lesson the first time.
Easily forgotten when you ve just had a run-in with Sammy. I take a large sip of the glass of wine a waiter just handed to me, and then grimace. Whoa. That s a cross between Marmite and vinegar.
Whoops, sorry. I should have mentioned: only drink water at these events. And always have a big sandwich beforehand. I can t believe I forgot about that. What if we leave here in the next half hour and I buy you dinner to thank you for your truly awe-inspiring acting for Sammy?
As I m about to say that would be great but she isn t paying, and suggest grabbing us both some water now – I really need to clear the horrible taste in my mouth and I imagine Nadia does too – I m interrupted by Nadia s friend Marisa, who I was introduced to as soon as we arrived.
I hope you re enjoying the delicious food and wine, Tom, she says.
I ve sampled it and I was awestruck, I reply.
Marisa (who is dressed as Jessica Rabbit) spares a moment to smile, before continuing with, So what do you do? Workwise?
I m a teacher.
And you and Nadia met at Waterloo on Saturday evening?
Yep.
And you re… single?
Yep. I m trying not to laugh at the interrogation.
So it s lovely that you came this evening.
I nod very seriously. It s certainly an evening to remember.
Although we re going to have to leave soon, I think, Nadia says.
Nooooo. What about the dancing at the end? Marisa says. You have to stay.
We have another… thing… to go to, I say. I feel that a whole evening could be a lot of pretending that might catch one or both of us out. I m sure we can manage that in due course, but maybe we should work our way up to it.
Yes, a thing, Nadia says.
So, Tom, where do you live? Marisa isn t letting go of the interrogation.
Clapham. I feel as though this is a very strange conversation. I don t think I m usually a mono-syllabist. In a flat, I elaborate. On my own. Okay, no, also weird.
Meeting at Waterloo the way you did is such a gorgeous meet-cute, Marisa says.
Meet-cute? I ask.
It s a romcom term, Nadia supplies. Marisa and I love a romcom.
What s your favourite kind of film? Marisa asks sternly, which makes me laugh out loud. I love that she s such a caring friend to Nadia (if a little scarily intense).
Nadia s looking at me very enquiringly too. Apparently I need to answer the question seriously.
I don t really have strong film preferences. But if I had to choose I d maybe go for one of those drama-documentaries. Or a war film. As in a historical one.
Good, Marisa approves. Nadia nods too.
What would have been a bad answer? I ask.
I mean. Nadia looks at me as though I m mad. The obvious. Extreme violence.
Or a weirdly babyish love of kids films. Marisa is not tolerant apparently. And a lot of porn.
No-one would really admit that, would they? I point out.
Marisa narrows her eyes. Do you watch porn? I can allow a certain amount, but we need to know that no actors were abused during the making of it. And beyond a certain point it s too much.
I find myself saying, I do not, which, frankly, feels like too much information.
Nadia s shaking her head. Marisa . Outrageous. Tom can watch as much porn as he likes. Or not. I mean, it s nothing to do with us.
Well, it s something to do with you . Marisa opens her mouth to say more and Nadia puts her hands over her ears.
No. Honestly, no. She looks at me. I m just laughing. Tom and I have known each other for five days.
You should get to know each other better, Marisa tells us. Porn habits are one of the first things any couple should talk about.
On that note, I suggest, shall we go to that dinner and talk on the way?
Good idea. Nadia hugs Marisa and says she ll see her tomorrow, and then we begin to make our way towards the exit, with Marisa yelling at our backs not to forget what we need to be talking about.
As we exit, a lot of people we didn t encounter on our way in are interested to meet me. Apparently Nadia and her unfortunate dating history are very well known in her office.
We field all the many questions that we re asked (they re all on similar themes: where did we meet; how did we meet; exactly how long ago), agree that it s lovely to see me at the drinks, agree also that we put even less effort into the cartoon theme than everyone else did, and then, thankfully, the music is turned up high and no-one can hear anyone else speak and we re able to slide out of the door.
Well, says Nadia when our ears have stopped ringing. Thank you. That was very good. No-one s going to nag me about dating for ages. This fake-plus-one thing is genius.
She s right. It is.