Chapter Four
Ella
I entered my flat just after eight and slipped my shoes off in the hallway before bending down and angling them perfectly onto my shoe rail.
I breathed a sigh of relief at returning home, hoping that by tomorrow my hangover would have shifted completely.
I headed into the open-plan living room and kitchen area and slumped down on the soft, cream corner sofa.
I’d always loved my flat, my safe place to chill out and relax.
I loved the high ceilings, the terrific central location, the granite worktops, and the pristine condition of every room.
It combined the Victorian character of the building with my own modern twist. But I hadn’t always loved living alone.
I bought the flat almost on a whim after seeing it listed on an auction site shortly after my breakup with Joshua and used my entire life savings to purchase it.
I told myself I needed the distraction, that I needed to rebuild my life, so I focused every ounce of energy and penny I had into making it the dream apartment.
But truthfully, I wanted to impress him, to prove to him he’d made an enormous mistake, to show him what he was missing.
Fuck, I even added in features I knew Joshua would approve of – like an alcove displaying an impressive record collection, knowing fine well the only music I listen to is Taylor Swift or Adele.
I added a his-and-hers-style dressing room.
Joshua was heavily into fashion and designer labels, and he’d always promised to build a space for us both to get ready together when we finally ditched our rented studio and purchased our dream home.
So, yep, I dedicated ten months of non-stop graft, overtime and endless frustrated tears just to be able to plaster the finished result on Instagram in the desperate, needy hope that he’d message me or ask to come round and then my dream flat would ultimately win him back.
Yes, I tried to lure my ex-man back to me with a try-too-hard closet and a record collection, for fuck’s sake.
He never did message, of course, and when I think of it all now, I still feel an achy pain grumbling in my chest, realising how utterly pathetic it was to decorate my entire home for a man who would never even set foot in it, let alone live there with me.
I mean, we had split up over a year before, for God’s sake, but still, I would lie in bed at night imagining scenarios of how he’d come back when he’d seen how well I was doing in life.
Not that I wasn’t doing well before, but I wanted to show him how I’d managed to accomplish all of his expectations in my home all by myself.
That I was so organised and had the dreamiest apartment and this great fucking life he could still be a part of.
It was some unhinged attempt to prove my point, that my life was amazing and I was achieving everything and it didn’t revolve around procreating.
Even now, it completely infuriates me that I allowed myself to love someone so deeply that it made me a crazy, chaotic, desperate person, and truthfully, I wasn’t prepared ever to let that happen again.
Not now. Now that I’ve finally got my shit back together.
I am happy, a happily single woman, and I’m in control.
I have my friends, my job and a stunning flat, and I couldn’t think of anything worse than a man coming along to ruin my peace.
*
Ping.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket.
Katy: The first coffee date is arranged for lunchtime tomorrow! How you getting on? X
I rolled my eyes, having not yet set up my Tinder profile after Katy downloaded the app for me at work.
Ella: Not long home. I will set it up just now. What pics should I use? X
Zola: YES, girls! I love the one of you in Italy with your tits out, babe x
I burst out laughing, thinking back to our summer holiday when we all went to a nudist beach, and Zola took a photo of me topless, holding two strawberries at my nipples.
Ella: That would get the dates in. Haha x
Katy: NO! Bad advice, ZO! I know this answer though, I saw on TikTok you should add one candid, one laughing, one businesslike, and one with an animal. Maybe a dog? Little cute vibe? Xx
Ella: I don’t have a fucking dog!!! Surely people don’t make TikToks on this?!
Katy: We will find you a dog in the street for a pic, El. haha! Xx
Katy: And they make TikToks on everything.
I couldn’t help but smile at her expert take on the online dating scene and, inspired, finally clicked on the Tinder app to set it up.
A series of questions popped up and I began clicking.
OK, I am a woman seeking a man for a short-term relationship.
Name. I paused. Reminding myself of an article I read recently on the rising amount of stalking cases happening in the UK since dating apps and social media.
Not to mention all of the Netflix documentaries that highlighted the complete psychopaths out there.
I swore to myself after bingeing I Am Stalker never to reveal my name or personal details to anyone outside of work or family life from then on.
Especially when I lived alone, and let’s face it, I would make a great statistic.
Fuck, I even told the over-smiley barista at Starbucks my name was Tina last week – just in case.
And I especially didn’t want any comeback with these men we were about to expose. I wanted to keep my details private. I mean, this was technically a business venture. I hummed a little, but what name could I use ? I felt my fingers hover over the keypad of my phone, until I eventually had it.
Name: Bella
Age: 30
Biography: Hey guys, new to dating and wanting to meet casually for dates. Come say Hi!
I felt nauseated. What if someone recognised me from my photographs?
A distant cousin or a client? Panic set in that I’d do something that would mean my clients would look at me unprofessionally.
OK, if I got caught or if Andrea had an issue with it, I could say someone stole my snaps and was catfishing as me.
Yes, I’d go down that route. I mean, I hadn’t given my actual name.
OK, it’s OK. This is work, Ella. Don’t stress.
Think about this from a business perspective.
I breathed deeply, calmed myself down – and saved my details.
My phone quickly flashed up men’s profiles, from handsome laddy types to vegan nerds.
I reluctantly swiped right to them all. As match after match blew up my phone, I suddenly became more engrossed in swiping than arranging potential dates.
I could feel my nerves settle as each match boosted my ego.
It felt oddly thrilling, sitting back and judging man after man purely on their physical appearance.
I continued the swiping charade for over an hour until I eventually called a halt and clicked on the messages tab.
I knew I had to pick the perfect red-flag candidates – the ones who seemed to be serial daters.
I felt more set on avenging my friend and the females of Glasgow than trying to find a nice guy to rave about.
Kevin: Can we agree that we’d both make beautiful babies?
Bingo! I swiped through Kevin’s photographs.
The first showed him driving a Ferrari through Vegas, not so subtly flexing.
The rest were mostly holiday snaps, such as posing at an infinity pool in Dubai or working out at the gym.
There were also some curvy Ikea mirror selfies with him flexing his pecs.
He seemed like the ultimate fuckboy. He needed me to vet him.
I mean, don’t get me wrong; he was handsome and gorgeous, with thick black hair and a beard that was so pristinely shaped it looked like he spent more time at the Turkish barbers than at home.
But he undoubtedly loved himself, and I could only imagine the women he had strung along during his years of Tinder bashing.
I took a deep breath and scanned his profile.
Bio: Lookin’ for my baby mama, the wifey to my lifey. Gotta be a gym girly. Come say Hi first, I don’t bite .?.?. unless you want me to!
Wow. I felt sick scorch the back of my throat.
Do women fall for this shit? Who talks about children as an opening line?
Who mentions biting? Was I so much out of the dating loop that this behaviour was now classed as normal chat?
I shook my head, then smiled evilly as I began typing, resisting the urge to explain that some women, like me, never want to be baby mamas or wifeys , especially with someone as self-obsessed as him.
I paused momentarily and thought hard about the task in hand – what would Katy say?
Bella: Hey! And YES! I think we would definitely would, Kev! Can you imagine the six-pack on the kids? Wow.
Kevin: Haha defo! Let’s catch up, maybe start practising ya wee beaut x
A shiver ran through me. Wow, getting your hole on this app was seriously easy. I wanted to immediately block him for his lack of manners and downright audacity, but I played along.
Bella: Ooooh. That sounds fun! But maybe a coffee first? Ease me in a little? X
Kevin: Cool, darling. I’ll ease you in no bother Where are you from? Xx
I continued to message Kevin into the night, arranging to grab a coffee together the following day at the same time and place Katy was meeting her match.
After that, I’d only have half an hour on my lunch break to write up his review for the Dicktionary Club, so I prepped possible questions on my notes tab that women might want to know about him.
I then began scrolling through the mounds of messages my matches were sending.
**
James: Wow, you are stunning!
**
Michael: Fuck me! Is this what love at first sight feels like??
**
Shaun: Hey, cutie x
**
Ryan: Hey, nice profile. How is Tuesday evening treating you? It would be great to chat back, as you have a very interesting profile.
**
Philip: What’s a secret talent you have nobody knows about? Bet it’s something naughty?
**
Gary: Hey Bella. How are you? Have you got much on this week?
**
Ewan: I can tell you have first-class handwriting. Perfect for the Christmas cards we will be sending from ‘us’.
**
Gerard: Well, that’s a face I’d like to wake up to. Do you like big guys?
**
The screeds of messages blew my mind, and I wondered how we’d possibly date enough of these men to make even the smallest dent in the Glaswegian dating scene.
I replied to a few and then retired to my bed, but my mind was buzzing with ideas on how to safely and secretively enhance the Dicktionary Club.
This task seemed too big for Katy and me to handle on our own.