Page 37 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“Yep,” said Kiera. “I don’t get it.”

They were soon in their usual seats in the kitchen sipping tea. Lou had offered wine, but Kiera was already slightly wobbly as a result of the cocktails and the lack of food. “Here,” said Lou. “Beans on toast. Not exactly gourmet, but it’ll help you feel a bit more human. Ketchup? Sure, I’ll grab it from the fridge.”

“Could she not have just said she wasn’t sure she wanted to meet up? Or made an excuse? That’s what any normal person would do, right?” said Kiera, shovelling beans into her mouth and hoping they would help her feel a bit more sane.

“It’s a thing, though,” said Lou.

“A thing?”

“Yeah. You’ve been ghosted.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” said Kiera, lamenting her continued lack of dating nous.

“One of the mums in the playground told me. Basically, it’s when someone wants to stop seeing you or messaging you, so they just stop texting and block you. Another gem from the Urban Dictionary, I think.”

“That’s horrible, and nothing vanilla about it,” said Kiera, grumpily. “I nearly got myself in trouble at work because of her.”

“You live to date another day, hun, I promise,” said Lou, gently.

Once the beans on toast had been consumed, and Kiera had had two cups of tea, she was feeling much happier with the world. “What a coward,” she said, quietly.

“Yes, she is,” Lou agreed. “I think that’s the thing with the online world. People are all confident about things virtually, and then when it comes to it, they get scared. I’m not excusing it, mind. Like you say, she could at least have sent a crappy excuse.”

“Dog ate my homework,” said Kiera.

“Exactly.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Another Sunday, and Kiera had the newspapers and a large coffee on the go in the window of a café. Not Seymour’s café, though. She couldn’t face seeing her. She’d only ask about the date, and Kiera couldn’t bring herself to tell her she’d been stood up. The coffee wasn’t as nice here, and the view of the High Street was nowhere near as good for people-watching.

She’d had enough. Hankering after love and affection was wounding and messy. Perhaps she was trying too much too soon? The divorce had gone through, but Chrissie was still there, lurking at the back of her mind. At some point, no doubt she’d pop up again and they’d have to sort out the house.

Was it her? Kiera began to wonder if Chrissie, with all her peculiarities, had been right to leave? Perhaps Kiera just wasn’t cut out for relationships. Or perhaps she was looking in the wrong places. She was over forty, and sick and tired of everyone.

She was halfway through a mediocre cup of coffee when she took out her phone and deleted the dating app. She’d had enough. She wished she could be more free and easy, the way Clodagh was. She wanted what Lou had. Kiera was a one-woman woman. And she wanted love. There. She’d admitted it to herself. She wanted love. She wasn’t very good at casual because that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted something real and meaningful. And in wanting that, she knew she was cutting down her options. But perhaps that was better than the never-ending trail of disappointment behind her.

Her burden lightened and she turned the page of the Sunday magazine that had come with the newspaper. The main article was an exposé about a cult that preyed on vulnerable women. It promised them a new life and fulfilment. Kiera could see the appeal of that kind of offer. Sadly, though, it had ended up with the women in thrall to a dodgy man having handed over significant amounts of cash. It made her shudder. Reading the accounts of the women – accountants, teachers, doctors – was the most eye-opening part. They were just like her, with responsible jobs. They were intelligent and independent, with their own lives. Until they weren’t. They’d been offered something that was too good to be true. And therein lay the lesson.

Kiera looked at the photo of one of the women. Her weary expression poured from the page. She thought of Chrissie and all she had lost, and what the future might look like. There and then she made her decision. She would never let anyone close enough to hurt her again. She drained her coffee cup, feeling stronger than she had in months.

She was going to be ok.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kiera had just walked into the main reception of the hospital, ready to start the day, when she spotted Brian sitting alone, clutching a coffee in a plastic cup. She’d never seen him without his wife, and somehow he looked different.

“Morning, Brian, how are you this morning? Everything ok?” Kiera asked, taking the seat beside him and putting down her bag.

“Oh yes, don’t mind me,” he said. “Dawn’s in for her op at the moment and I’m just waiting to hear how she’s got on. She’s only just gone down to theatre so it’s going to be a while yet.”

Kiera placed her hand gently on Brian’s arm for a moment. She knew that this was often the hardest part for relatives. Just waiting while their loved one was being cut open. For the surgeons, it was something they did several times a day, it was routine. But for each patient, for each family, it was a significant life event. They might have been waiting for it for months, years even. All in the hope it would help make life less painful, or just make life possible.

“It’s a hip replacement, right?” said Kiera.

“Yes, bab. Well remembered,” said Brian. “I know your lot do this all the time. But we don’t.”

“No, I know,” said Kiera. “When I first started working here I sat in on a hip replacement. It was with Mr Groves, one of the consultant surgeons. I had to wear the clogs and the scrubs and the silly hat – all for safety reasons, you know.”

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