is your man. I know Train Guy is witty and fun and whatever, but Sky Garden Guy is all of those things too.’
‘Well, if Train Guy is a dud, yes, I accept your offer. That’s even if he’d still like to meet after I stood him up.’
‘I’m sure he would,’ Gaby said.
‘What are you going to wear?’ Emma asked.
Nadia thought about it. ‘I know this sounds weird,’ she said, ‘but I feel like I want to look as close as I do for work as possible. Like, that’s how he knows me. If I turned up in platforms and sequins with a full face of make-up, I’d be mortified if he didn’t recognize me!’
‘Oh my god,’ Emma said, ‘I didn’t think of that – he knows what you look like, but you have no idea what he looks like …’
Nadia nodded. ‘I know. Every morning I get on that train and I think, “Is it you? Is it you? Or you?” And honestly, he could be any of them. But that’s part of the excitement. And, you know. How bad could he end up being?’
Gaby shuddered. ‘That would give me the creeps, knowing that I’m being watched.’
Emma hit her shoulder. ‘She isn’t being watched! Don’t say that! Some commuter has noticed her a few times and thought she was cute. That’s all.’
‘Devastatingly cute,’ interjected Nadia.
‘Devastatingly cute. Fine. It’s not like he’s following her to work or back home and spying at her from the bushes.’
Nadia’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my god – do we think that could happen?’
Gaby gave a pointed silence.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Emma, shooting her daggers. ‘And look. You are so smart, and so aware. You can get a read on people’s energy like that.’ She clicked her fingers as she said ‘that’. ‘And we’ll call you so you have an out if you need it, which you won’t, but if you do, then … well. You can leave and then move house and jobs and start wearing a wig and you’ll never have to see him again!’
Gaby laughed in spite of herself, and the waiter came over with more wine. He asked if he could get them anything else.
‘Yes,’ Nadia said. ‘Some new best friends, please.’
The waiter smiled and walked away.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Emma said. ‘Isn’t she, Gaby?’
Gaby smiled, not quite enthusiastically. ‘Sure you are,’ she said. ‘And if you’re not, I’m at the MoD on Friday. I can arrange to have him killed.’
Emma poured more wine into their glasses, even though she was the only one who had emptied hers. The three of them cheersed again.
At home, Nadia sat down with a blank piece of paper, a pen, and another glass of wine. At the top of the paper she wrote ‘Pros and Cons’. On the left side, she wrote, ‘Everything That Could Go Wrong If I Meet The Guy From Missed Connections’. Under it, she put:
Potentially all a big catfish.
Potentially he thinks he is writing to somebody who Is Not Me, and will be totally devastated and insulted when I turn up, and won’t be able to hide the look of disappointment on his face. Will be like when food comes out of the kitchen at a restaurant and you’re starving and you think the waiter is coming over to you and so you sit up straighter and bite your bottom lip in anticipation, but then it goes to the table next to you and you look like an arse.
I will think we are getting on, and when I go to the bathroom he will pull out his phone and play on Tinder and I will see over his shoulder when I come back and be too polite to say anything. (Thus wasting a further two and a half hours of my life when I could be at boxercise, or with Emma – who says she is much better, but I am still worried about her.)
My picture will end up in the paper, because I will go missing on the way home from the date, and he will be the prime suspect. Picture will be from my twenty-eighth birthday when I tried to save money beforehand by waxing my own eyebrows and had to draw them back on, and everyone will think any woman who looks as mad as I do probably brought it all on herself.
I will find him dizzyingly charming and the chemistry will be undeniable and I will go home with him and won’t realize he’s put Rohypnol in my drink