Page 6 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“I see, so you’re playing it coy, then.” Kiera logged into her computer and feigned disinterest. She opened her emails to see what carnage had ensued since she’d left work the night before. She knew Charlie was looking at her and waiting for her to ask more questions. She opened her calendar and checked her first meeting of the day. 9.30am. Enough time for a couple of cups of tea to make her feel more human. She could hear Charlie drumming his fingers on the desk.

“Sorry,” said Kiera, “did you want something?”

“Oh, you are so annoying when you’re being superior,” said Charlie, pushing himself back from the desk, his wheeled chair careering him into the wall just inches away.

Kiera laughed. “Alright, come on, spill. Who was he?”

“He was a lovely builder called Wayne – excellent moustache. He’s inspired me to try and grow one,” said Charlie, absentmindedly wheeling himself back to his desk and gripping a pencil between his nose and his upper lip.

“Really?” asked Kiera.

“Really.”

“So, was it good? Are you seeing him again?”

“Well,” said Charlie, stroking his pencil moustache, “yes, it was good and no, I’m obviously not seeing him again.”

Kiera sighed. “I just don’t get it.”

“Let’s not get started on that again,” said Charlie, putting the pencil down and scanning through an email.

“Hmm,” said Kiera.

“Oh, good lord,” said Charlie, “Rick wants to see me at 3pm. I hate it when he does that ‘can you just pop into my office’ thing but it’s hours away. He never gives a reason and it feels like being called to the headteacher’s office. I’m always convinced I’ve done something wrong.”

“Don’t stress,” Kiera told him. “He’ll just be after an update on something. It’ll be one of those meetings that could totally be an email.”

“You are of course right, petal,” said Charlie.

“And besides, you’re doing ok at the moment, right? Your team’s fully staffed, and the calls are being sorted in record time.”

“’Tis true,” Charlie replied, nodding in agreement. “I run the world’s greatest Patient Advice and Liaison Service.”

“It’s been said before,” said Kiera.

“And it will be said again. Now then, how are your consultation groups going?”

“That’s what my 9.30 is about. We’re working out which services we’re going to review – I’ve got the Medical Director and the Director of Operations to entertain there, so I’m going to need a jammy dodger when I get back.” Kiera looked up at the shelf, on which sat a biscuit tin labelled ‘First Aid Kit’.

“I’ll have them ready, with a coffee and defibrillator paddles just in case,” said Charlie.

Chapter Five

Later that evening, after Kiera had had her tea and Mr Chips had curled up on her lap, Hannah messaged back, talking about her long day teaching English to grumpy teenagers. They exchanged a few messages, and it became apparent that they had things in common, including a penchant for a nice café and good coffee. Feeling emboldened by the contact, Kiera quickly typed a message before she could change her mind:

“There’s a great coffee place by me. I’d be delighted to introduce you to it, if you’re free some time?”

Her stomach lurched as she pressed send, and she laid the phone face down on the coffee table. She put an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on and tried to resist the urge to pick the phone back up. The last thing she wanted was to come across as desperate. She was just as terrified by the prospect of Hannah’s response – if it ever came – as she was keen to see it. And it wasn’t a comfortable balance.

“Look, Mr Chips,” she said, ten minutes later, pointing at the TV. “They clearly aren’t following safeguarding protocols there.”

Part of the joy of watching medical dramas for Kiera was shouting at them every time they did something ridiculous. “And now look, they’ve breached that patient’s confidentiality. Idiots. Who writes this stuff?” But then Meredith Grey strolled into the operating theatre and saved the day, inevitably, and just as inevitably, Kiera happily forgave every absurdity.

She had managed to leave her phone alone, instead watching a patient having a lightbulb removed from a compromising place by a Hollywood star in scrubs. In preparation for picking the phone up again, Kiera went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Once she had settled herself back down, feet tucked underneath her on the sofa, she finally picked up her phone.

Two messages from Hannah. Two! Kiera smiled to herself. That was a good sign, surely?

Hannah: “That is an offer I will take up.”

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