Page 5 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

Her phone vibrated a little while later, and she was hesitant to pick it up, in case it was the dating app informing her that someone else wholly unsuitable liked her. Or, worse (or perhaps better), that the woman she had swiped right on had swiped right on her. She had no idea what she would do if that happened.

She took a deep breath and picked up her phone to see a text from Lou, who wanted an update. Kiera smiled. Friendship really was the most reliable form of relationship.

Chapter Four

Before Kiera got out of her car to head into the office, she checked her phone. For the last few days she’d been ignoring the notification that kept popping up, avoiding the dating app entirely. But now, she felt ready.

She had a match.

Her heart did something that seemed to resemble both falling and leaping. She didn’t recall it feeling like such an emotional rollercoaster last time she’d been single, in her early thirties.

It was blonde bob lady, who had not only matched with her, but had also sent her a message.

“Hi, I’m Hannah, how are you this dreary afternoon?”

Kiera looked up at the hospital, its three cylindrical structures towering over the city. It was now a sunny morning, which reminded her how long she’d sat on this message. She thought about the many people inside the building who were dealing with far bigger problems than responding to a woman on a dating app. Still, this was uncharted territory for her, and she needed backup. She scrolled to the numbers listed on her phone as ‘favourites’.

“Hey, Kiera,” said Lou, picking up quickly. “It’s early in the day for you to call. It’s not even 8am. You ok?”

“Yes, fine. Well, technically fine. But I’ve just had a message off the dating app and I have no idea what to do now.” Kiera spoke fast, her fingers digging into the rubber of the steering wheel.

She could hear Lou’s muffled voice, shouting at her children to put their shoes on.

“Sorry about that. Ok, love, I’m going to go out on a limb here… Respond!”

“You make it sound so easy,” said Kiera.

“Well, it kind of is,” said Lou. Now Kiera could hear the children in the background, calling out their various pre-school needs to their mother.

“But what do I say?”

“Tell her you haven’t had sex for over a year and you’re gagging for it,” said Lou. Then, muffled again, “no, Billy, your PE kit is not inside the fridge. And put that cheese back. Go on, upstairs, it’s in your room.”

“While that is technically true, I suspect it may be something of an overshare in my first message,” said Kiera, going pink despite the fact that she was alone in the car.

“So, just say ‘hi’ and see where it goes. Imagine you’ve just met her at a bar, it’s twenty years ago, and she’s registered an interest in you. What would you say?”

“Well, I guess that’s the point, I wouldn’t say very much, or indeed anything at all. This isn’t an age thing. I’ve always been bad at this.”

“JUST ANSWER THE MESSAGE,” said Lou, beginning to sound like she was talking to one of the children rather than Kiera.

“Ok!” said Kiera, lapsing into her teenage self. She giggled. “Sorry to disturb your morning. Has Billy found his PE kit?”

“Nope. I’m on my way upstairs to get it for him. Have a good one, hun.”

“Cheerio,” said Kiera.

So she had to respond. She wrote and re-wrote her message a few times, and then finally went with: “Hey, nice to hear from you and good to match. I’m new to all this. Do you have anything exciting planned for today?”

She pressed send, and then reread her message. She cursed herself for writing as though she was sending a letter to childhood pen pal. Chucking her phone into the bottom of her bag, she finally got out of the car.

“Hey, Charlie,” she said, as she took a seat at her desk in the tiny broom cupboard that passed for their office.

“Well, hello, sunshine,” replied her colleague, a huge smile on his face, accentuating his perfect cheekbones and smartly-cut greying hair.

“Oh my God,” said Kiera, rolling her eyes. “You totally got laid last night, didn’t you?”

“I may have. I may not,” he said, twirling in his office chair, his slim cut grey suit trousers contrasting with the pale yellow shirt he was wearing.

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