Page 17 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“She’ll show,” said Seymour, quietly, as she walked past Kiera’s table in the window. Kiera pressed her lips together. Should she send a text to ask where Clodagh was? Or would it look too desperate? The rules had all changed so much.

Seymour walked back and leaned against Kiera’s table. “While you’re waiting, why don’t you tell me what you do for work?”

Kiera smiled. Seymour was trying to distract her, in the kindest way. “Oh, I’m not sure it’s as interesting as running your own café. How did that come about?”

“I supposed it came from rebellion, in a way,” said Seymour, with a rueful smile. “Mum and Dad were actors, obsessed with the theatre.”

“Hence the name?”

Seymour nodded. “They performed all the time, even when they weren’t on stage. It was so tiring. They assumed we’d follow in their footsteps, but I always wanted to go into business. They were shocked at my so-called obsession with capitalism.” She rolled her eyes. “I worked in various jobs but I always had a dream to set up my own café.”

“And here you are. Wow, that’s impressive.” Kiera wondered how old Seymour was. She seemed so self-assured in spite of her apparent youth. Seymour smiled. “So, you ran away from the circus to start a business?”

Seymour laughed loudly. “Exactly.”

Kiera wanted to know what Seymour’s parents had made of it all, but just then, a flustered shape hurled itself into the café, threw off its coat and dropped a bag by Kiera’s table. Seymour walked smoothly away to chat to another customer.

“So sorry, the bus was late and my phone was flat. Total nightmare. So pleased you’re still here. I’d have been panicking by now,” said Clodagh, as she took the seat opposite Kiera. Her hair was a mass of blond curls cut short, dishevelled as Clodagh herself. But there was something endearing about her lack of artifice.

Seymour came to the table to take their order, and soon they had their drinks and had settled into conversation.

“Did you always want to be a physio?”

“Well, not really,” said Clodagh, sipping at her caramel-infused skinny latte. “But the uni course matched my A levels and I found I really enjoyed it. I mean, I’ve always loved working with people.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t bumped into each other before now,” said Kiera. “You’re at the QE, right?”

“You work there too?” asked Clodagh. “I’d definitely have noticed you.” She smiled.

“I work in the patient experience team with Charlie Carter.”

“Oh, I think I’ve met him. He did some work with patients in one of our clinics last week. Well,” she said, stroking a finger up and down her coffee cup, “who’d have thought it. Swiping right on a colleague. It must be fate.”

“Maybe,” said Kiera, smiling. Already this felt better than the other dates she’d been on. She turned her head to where Seymour was standing behind the counter. The café owner gave her a quizzical look. Kiera gave a slight nod. Yes, this was going well.

“Aside from work then, what’s your passion?” asked Kiera, wanting to know more about this bubbly woman.

“Honestly? I’d love to travel the world and then come home and buy a lovely house and settle down.” Clodagh looked mildly embarrassed by her confession.

“Sounds pretty good to me. When are you going to do the travel bit?” asked Kiera, trying to remember the last time she’d met someone young enough to be planning exotic travel rather than mortgages and children.

“Fingers crossed, next summer,” said Clodagh. “I rent a room in a house at the moment, and save the rest of my money for that. Well, that and going out for drinks with my friends on a Friday night.”

“Sounds ideal,” said Kiera, with a smile. She was relieved by how smoothly the conversation was flowing after her first experience. They talked about travelling, the places they’d been, where they wanted to go in the future. Kiera shared her own story of the six months she’d worked in Geneva for an NGO at the United Nations.

“Wow, that’s seriously impressive,” said Clodagh, seemingly having no desire to play things cool. “You should be Prime Minister or something!” She drained her coffee.

Kiera blushed. “Ha, well I think it sounds more glamorous than it was. As I recall, it involved eating as big a breakfast as possible at the hostel I was staying in, because living there was so expensive and I couldn’t always afford lunch. I lived on muesli and yoghurt. I’ve not eaten muesli since! But it was one of those privileged experiences, I guess.”

“Did you have to speak Italian or something?”

“French. Although it’s such an international city that many people speak English as well.”

“Say something in French,”

“Non,” said Kiera, with a smirk.

“Come on!” Clodagh was grinning at Kiera.

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