that the first time Emma came to after-work drinks she’d taken to Gaby so well. Emma was typically the jealous one, wanting Nadia all to herself. A typical only child, unpractised at sharing. But it was like the phrase ‘house on fire’ had been designed especially for Gaby and Emma. Nadia had sat there more or less mute as the two swapped outrageous dating stories and entered into a flirting competition with the wait staff. They’d never graduated to hanging out without her, but every time Nadia invited one out, the first question would always be if the other one was coming. Nadia knew it was childish to feel envious over how they’d clicked, but … well. She was envious at how they’d clicked. She’d been trying to see them separately just lately. Not that she’d made that clear out loud or anything. She didn’t want to seem immature.
Nadia let her temper calm down so that by the time their starter plates had been cleared and Emma said, ‘I still think you should put an advert up in response,’ Nadia was able to relax into herself and smile. She knew her friend only wanted what was best for her.
‘No!’ Nadia said, laughing. ‘Oh god! I just don’t think I can!’
Emma was impatient. ‘How are we going to find him then?’
‘I don’t know! Maybe I don’t even want to find him!’
‘Well, that’s bollocks,’ said Emma. ‘You’re a shit liar and I can tell that’s a lie.’ She poured them both more wine. ‘I can tell you’re gagging for it to be you. Look at you! Texting all maybe it is me! all day and then being moody tonight. You’re afraid to be excited. I see you.’
‘Oh shut up,’ Nadia said light-heartedly.
‘You’re going to have to be on the lookout. Like, on that 7.30 train every morning, the end near the escalators. That’s where you should start. Stake the joint out a bit. If it is for you, surely there will be a guy hopefully looking at you, all “Notice me! Notice me!”’
Nadia giggled. ‘Well, yes. That I can do.’
She twisted at the napkin in her lap.
‘And – I’m sorry for snapping about Ben. He really was just … awful. He used such horrible mind games to make me doubt myself, and make myself smaller. I lost myself to him. I’m glad that relationship happened because fucking hell I learnt so much, but …’ She absentmindedly fiddled with the cloth. ‘He ruined me. My head knows love is real and not all men are so horrible, blah blah blah. But my body. It’s like muscle memory or something. I get tense just hearing his name.’
Emma nodded, understandingly. ‘That’s a thing, you know.’
‘Getting tense at somebody’s name?’
‘Yeah. Muscle memory is a thing. We store trauma in our muscles and that’s why we get pain in our bodies sometimes: it’s old wounds in the fibres of our being.’
Nadia didn’t really understand. Trauma in the fibres of her being? It wasn’t like Awful Ben had hit her or anything; although, one night, in a rage, he had hit himself, and the sound of it – thwack – had scared Nadia into knowing that if she didn’t leave she could be next. It started out as words, accusations and little niggles, but within a few weeks Nadia found she couldn’t breathe properly around him, and yet still felt like she couldn’t end it, that she was somehow bound to him. She was terrified to stay, but even more terrified to leave. She never thought she would be one of ‘those’ women, but it turned out there are no ‘those’ women – only ‘those’ men.
‘Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but there’s stuff you can do to let your body release like, bad memories. Really, really!’
Emma was exposed to all kinds of stuff through the paper she worked for. She’d once been silent speed dating where she had to do a slow dance to classical music, with a stranger, the only points of their body touching being one finger and with eye contact unbroken. She said it was the most erotic three minutes of her life. Or, another time, she’d ended up at a New Year’s Eve party with an ex-footballer who now sold bagels on the TV, and he offered her a threesome with his fiancée. Emma had said yes.
‘Emma, if this involves a woman fingering me in front of an audience I will actually kill you.’ That was another thing Emma had done – a