Page 23 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“So really,” said Clodagh, drawing to a conclusion, “it’s all about honesty and boundaries.” She stopped, waiting for Kiera to say something. Kiera felt stuck. She didn’t know what to say.

“You need some time to think about this, don’t you?” Clodagh asked.

Kiera nodded.

“OK, babe.” Clodagh stood up. Before she left, she placed a hand on Kiera’s shoulder. “You’re really nice, Kiera. You deserve the right thing for you. I’d love that to be me, but if it isn’t, you have to say. I’m really sorry.”

Kiera blinked hard and smiled before Clodagh walked away. Thankfully, Charlie was out at a meeting when she got back to her office, so she allowed herself a three minute cry, which made her feel a little better. She thought about texting Lou, but decided against it for the moment. She needed time to think.

Kiera muddled through work for the rest of the day, and before going home headed straight to the Jam Pot.

“Affogato, please,” she said.

“That bad?” said Seymour, furrowing her brows. “You don’t look happy. Disastrous date? The one you had the other night looked like it was going well.”

“That bad.”

“Ok, bab, I’ll sort your affogato and then you can tell me all about it.” Seymour’s words lifted Kiera’s mood slightly.

When Seymour sat down, she said, “Is this ok? I don’t want to invade your personal misery bubble if you’d prefer I didn’t?”

“No, it’s fine,” replied Kiera with a small smile. “I came here because I didn’t want to go home to an empty flat.”

“I can understand that. And it’s well known that lashings of caffeine, sugar and dairy are a sure-fire cure for all that ails the battered heart.”

“Battered,” repeated Kiera. She closed her eyes. “I’m beginning to think it’s held together with sellotape and string. It’s not a nice feeling. I...” she trailed off; she could feel tears forming and she had to try to fend them off. Seymour was just a friendly acquaintance. She didn’t need the tears and the snot that were about to make their presence felt. “Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” said Seymour, putting a cool hand on Kiera’s back. “You’ve had a rough day.”

“I have. Oh my God,” said Kiera, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “I’m not this person. Your business doesn’t need me sobbing in a corner.” Saying it out loud only made her sob more.

“Well,” said Seymour, “in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m closing early today, so you’re my only customer.” Kiera looked up at the door – the closed sign was in the window.

“Oh, good lord, you’d actually closed and I’ve just come barrelling in here demanding ice-cream and sympathy.”

“OK, stop. I’m going to get you some tissues, and then you’re going to listen to me.” Kiera’s eyes widened at the stern tone Seymour had taken. She hadn’t heard her talk like that before. She reminded herself that she really didn’t know this woman at all, although there was a confidence and a sort of presumption about the way Seymour had just spoken to her that made it feel as though they were more than just people who said hello in passing. She put the teaspoon into her ice-cream and swallowed a mouthful of the coffee-infused goo. There was something else there, too.

Seymour came back with a box of tissues and two large cups of tea, but this time they were in huge bright pink mugs that didn’t really match the fashionable aesthetic of the café. “Did you put caramel sauce in this?” asked Kiera.

“Ha! Yes I did. Well spotted. You looked like you needed it. Also, well done, it would appear that your brain has not been turned to mush by whatever disaster has befallen you. Here, a mug of tea. The tiny little cups Jack insists on for this place just don’t cut it, so I got these from my flat upstairs.”

“You’re so kind,” said Kiera, immediately bursting into tears again. “You need to stop being kind to me. This is a nightmare.”

“Ok, you’re listening, not talking, remember?” Kiera nodded and sniffed, shuffling in her chair. “You came in just as I had switched the sign over to ‘closed’ and you were frowning. I couldn’t possibly turn you away, and when you asked – nicely I might add, no demands – for an affogato, I knew I’d done the right thing. You’ve not asked for my sympathy, but for whatever reason, the God of Wednesdays has decided you’re getting it anyway.”

“The God of Wednesday?”

“Yes, a well-known God, responsible for helping people through the day that’s furthest from the following weekend without having any of the hangover benefits of the one just gone.” Kiera raised her eyebrows. “It’s true,” added Seymour, with a laugh. Kiera laughed too. “That’s better. So, what happened? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, it really is none of my business.”

“I think I’ve kind of made it your business,” said Kiera, “and I’d like to tell you. If you’re sure you want to hear?”

Seymour grinned, and took a slurp of her tea. She listened without interrupting as Kiera related the whole sorry tale. There was a short silence when she finished.

“So, dating lesson number 274: ENM stands for ethically non-monogamous,” said Seymour. “Ouch.”

“Would you have known what that meant?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before. But she really should have checked in with you first. Sounds like she’s feeling suitably shitty about it, though, which is good.”

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