with colleagues after work, and one or two couples spread around inside, quite obviously on dates. Nadia couldn’t see any men alone, lingering outside or sat off in a corner. She didn’t know what Daniel looked like, so she had no choice but to sit and wait for him to approach. Nobody was behind the bar, and so she picked up her phone – it was only supposed to be on hand for an absolute emergency – and unlocked it whilst she waited. It was weird how sure she could be that this was it, this was the moment love would envelop her, whilst also needing to know that there was a Plan B. It was a push-pull of both believing and self-preservation. She’d read a quote on Pinterest that said, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE A COWARD AND IN LOVE; YOU MUST CHOOSE ONE. The writer of that must have never been on a blind date, Nadia thought, knowing that the best part of having a Plan B was assuring yourself you’d never need it.
She opened up Twitter, half thinking she’d read the news so that if conversation lulled she’d have something to say about Syria or The Lust Villa, and waited for the barman to come and take her order. Every time she sensed somebody walk through the door she looked up. Not him. That wasn’t him either. Humph.
She had a text from Emma that said, Have you seen this?! It was a link to Twitter. Nadia looked up again, just in case he’d come in, and then pressed the URL. It was a link to a hashtag, #OurStop
i’m so invested in the #OurStop couple. what a romantic way to meet somebody! said EmmaEmma
and
anyone else think it’s creepy that this guy has been eyeing her up and she’s got no idea who he is? #OurStop from girlstolevintage
and
I can’t even get a man to text me back, and here are the #OurStop couple leaving love notes in the newspaper for each other like an Austen romance, if Jane had Twitter said notyourgirl
Nadia scrolled, marvelling at what she was seeing. People were following her story. Their story! And had opinions! And a hashtag! #OURSTOP!
That was so bizarre to her – although, she thought, if she herself wasn’t the subject of the exchange she’d definitely be texting Emma about it. This was London at its best: the London where everyone was in on the same thing, the same joke or movement or idea. She supposed that’s why Missed Connections worked in the first place: it wasn’t just about two people seeking each other out. It was about how we all search for love, whether we admit it or not, and are voyeurs for the love lives of other people. She couldn’t wait to show Train Guy. They were trending! It was the most auspicious of starts. It felt like good luck. Oh, this was all so perfect!
‘Nadia?’
Nadia looked up from her phone, where the barman was staring at her.
‘Yes?’ she said.
Nadia was confused. Her guy worked here? And she was meeting him … as he worked? The man was tall and about her age, with dark stubble and good teeth and –
‘I’ve got a message for you, from your … There was a man here who said to ask for Nadia.’
Nadia didn’t understand what the barman was saying. She looked around, as if somebody was about to jump out and say, ‘Just kidding!’
‘He said he had to go, and he was really sorry, and … oh god, I’m going to get this all wrong now. You’re clever? Basically that he fancies you. He had to go and he fancies you.’
Nadia blinked, blood rushing to her cheeks. Her body registered the news before her mind processed it. ‘What?’
‘The guy you were supposed to meet? Your date, I guess? He got a phone call, and then said he had to go, and he wanted me to tell you.’
Nadia looked from one end of the bar to the other, as if this really was a joke, perhaps a way for Train Guy to test if she was truly interested. There wasn’t anybody else around.
‘He left?’ Nadia could feel tears pricking at her eyes. Do not cry, she willed herself. Don’t you dare bloody cry. She was mortified.
‘He left.’ The barman seemed to suddenly sense how upset she was. ‘He said loads of really nice things before, though. He … he came in, and he was looking at himself in the mirror like he