Page 2 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

Kiera smiled and tried to act as if she didn’t have a lump in her throat. The seven years she’d been with Chrissie seemed suddenly insignificant.

Chapter Two

On her way to the car park Kiera made a quick call, then hurried across the asphalt and into the driver’s seat to avoid the drizzle. Twenty-five minutes later she was at the Jam Pot, an independent café that had sprung up on Kings Heath High Street a few months earlier.

“Hey,” said the woman behind the counter, her wavy blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun. “I don’t normally see you on a Tuesday.”

“Call it living on the edge,” replied Kiera.

“Your usual?”

“Yes, please.” She sat at a table in the window.

“So not that much on the edge then?” The woman grinned.

“You know me,” said Kiera with an easy smile, running a hand through her own poker-straight short brown hair. The woman was younger than her, and Kiera couldn’t help but wonder whether she was married, or hoped to be married any time soon. What would she think of Kiera being a divorcee at forty-one?

The dark cloud that had been threatening all afternoon finally burst. The downpour turned the High Street into a blur of brollies, puddles and car headlights in seconds.

Before too long, Kiera was presented with a cortado – a short, strong coffee with a bit of milk froth – and a doorstep slice of toast with butter and apricot jam spread generously all over it. She nodded her thanks, rebuking herself for caring about what the barista thought of her and her life choices.

Like a mirage emerging from a puddle, a woman appeared at the front window, shielding herself with a polka dot umbrella. She fell through the door, propped her brolly up and made towards Kiera. She sighed heavily and gave Kiera a soggy hug.

“I think I must have got here at the right time; it was only drizzling when I arrived,” said Kiera. Not that the rain mattered. Lou was her most reliable friend. She’d have come in a hurricane.

“Hmph, well good for you. I may just take off my shoes and empty them out into the drain outside. I’m soaked. Anyway, what’s the news you rang about?”

“My divorce came through.”

“Wow. Ok, I need tea and toast before we go any further with this conversation. Are you ok for a minute?” Kiera nodded and Lou went to the counter, her dark ponytail dripping down her back.

Kiera was half-way through her own toast when Lou returned with her order and installed herself opposite her. “Are you ok?”

“Not sure,” said Kiera. “It’s all a bit weird, really.” She took a sip of the coffee. “If you’d told me this is where I’d be a year ago, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Well, if I’m honest,” said Lou.

“And you usually are,” observed Kiera.

“Ha! Well, yes, I am. And I think you’re well shot of her. You deserve so much better.”

Kiera looked outside into the rain-drenched streets. “Perhaps. But it doesn’t feel good.”

“What choice did you have? It’s not like she’s even here.”

“I never imagined it would end this way,” said Kiera.

“Does anyone?”

“True.”

“You need more toast,” Lou told her. “You always need carbs at times of stress.”

Lou was of course correct. Kiera’s need for regular toast, bread, potatoes, pasta, rice – anything starchy and beige, basically – was notorious.

Once they were both on their second plate of toast, Kiera felt herself begin to relax a little.

“Anyway,” said Lou. “This means I can now live vicariously through you. Have you downloaded any of those dating apps yet?”

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