Page 58 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

But she could.

She was the first to her office, and settled herself in with a cup of tea and a cereal bar. She opened her inbox and began to work through what she had missed. There was something methodical about triaging the heap of emails – deleting those she didn’t need, filing those she needed to read later and flagging the ones that demanded her urgent attention.

She remembered the day she had sat at the top of the hill above the Placa de les Cascades in Barcelona, sipping coffee outside the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. The city beneath her was vast, the people tiny, with movement all around her. The stillness amongst all that movement came back to her as she worked through the routine she had established.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” said Charlie. “Lovely of you to grace us with your presence. It’s not been the same without you.”

Kiera cocked an eyebrow. “Is that because I’m the only one who restocks the biscuits?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that. Coincidentally, however, the first aid kit is empty.”

Kiera laughed. “I’ll go to the shop later.”

“Excellent,” said Charlie. “Think of it as rehabilitation.” He put his bag down and moved closer to Kiera. “Seriously though, K, I’m glad you’re back. It’s not been the same without you.” He put a gentle arm around her shoulders, and she tried not to cry.

“Thanks,” she said, and sniffed.

“Right,” he said. “Enough of that. I need to tell you about who got caught snogging in the relatives room.”

Normality felt good. She allowed herself to relax as she listened to all the gossip that only Charlie would know.

When her phone buzzed later, it was Clodagh.

“I heard you were back on site, fancy a welcome back lunch date?”

Kiera smiled as she replied. She had something she needed to say to Clodagh. Then she scrolled further down, to the message she’d been ignoring. She breathed in, opened it and then breathed out.

It was from Seymour.

“How are you?” it read. “Lou told me you’ve not been having a great time lately. I know things didn’t work out between us and Chrissie is there now, but I’m sorry things have been so horrible for you. Maybe let me make you an affogato one day and we could try being friends?”

Kiera sighed. An affogato and a chat would be lovely. Had Lou told her there was nothing going on with Chrissie? Did she know Chrissie had moved out? Did it even matter now? There was an air of finality in her words.

“I know things didn’t work out between us.”

It was true. They hadn’t.

Clodagh was sitting at her usual table next to a pile of sandwiches and crisps she had picked up from the canteen. “Egg or cheese?”

“Ugh, cheese, obviously,” said Kiera, wrinkling her nose.

“Rude,” said Clodagh. “Glad you’re on good enough form to take the piss, though. So, once you’ve finished that mouthful, tell me what the deal is. Has Chrissie got the hint and buggered off yet?”

Kiera laughed, spraying crumbs onto the floor. Once she’d finally swallowed, she told Clodagh the whole story.

“Well thank fuck for that.” Clodagh spoke with real feeling. “I mean, I wouldn’t wish that cult shit on anyone, but you didn’t deserve to have to pick up those pieces.”

“Well,” said Kiera, opening her crisps, “I guess what I’ve realised is that I chose to do that. It felt like the right thing to do at the time. And maybe it was. But it probably wasn’t the right thing for me and Seymour.” She sighed and took a deep breath. “And I owe you an apology, too. One that’s long overdue. I don’t know what was going on with me that night when we met, but what I said to you wasn’t kind or fair. I was lashing out, but that really is no excuse. I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” said Clodagh, but Kiera could see her friend’s eyes had filled. “I knew you weren’t yourself. But thanks for saying sorry. I appreciate it.” She paused for a moment and then spoke again. “With Seymour, though, have you considered the possibility that maybe it isn’t too late? I’m not sure it’s ever too late. You know that, right?” Clodagh fixed Kiera with a hard stare.

“I don’t know,” said Kiera, shaking her head.

“No, I’m not having that. Look at me. No, really look. Now, say after me: it’s never too late.”

“Um, well, it’s never too late,” breathed Keira.

“I can barely hear you. You can do better than that. It’s never too late. Say it.”

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