Page 2 of The One That Got Away

‘What? I’d love grandkids whilst I’m still young enough to enjoy them! And as advanced as your Waterfall Turbo 3,000 is, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have the ability to impregnate you!’ She laughed again.

‘Not funny.’

I didn’t even want to know how Mum knew the name of my one and only adult toy. It was at times like these that I regretted moving back home. If I had my own place, I wouldn’t have to suffer through discussions like this.

‘I’m only joking. Well, sort of. It’s not just about grandchildren. I know things are different these days. I just worry about you, that’s all.’

‘I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll meet someone one day.’

‘How? You deleted all the apps and you spend all your time here, at home working. I’m grateful for your help, you know I am, but since you’ve moved back home you’ve got stuck in a bit of a rut. Apart from seeing Samantha, you never go out. You’re not going to find a man sitting on the sofa every night. Unless of course you fancy the pizza delivery guy!’

Kevin was sweet and always made sure my Meat Feast arrived nice and hot, but he wasn’t the man for me.

And I definitely wasn’t using the apps again. Not after what happened before.

‘I haven’t had time! We’ve been rushed off our feet with orders and I had to create the new website and…’

‘The website’s been done for months! It’s been over a year since you’ve dated. You’re thirty-one. I’m sixty and evenI’mgetting more action than you. It’s not right! You used to love going out. And you used to tell me you wanted to travel the world. But apart from the time you came to visit my family in Jamaica two years ago, I can’t remember the last time you ventured further than the high street!’

‘I’m saving up for a mortgage! I can’t fritter money away on holidays,’ I protested. Property in London these days wasn’t cheap.

‘You can’t put your life on hold whilst you do that though, sweetheart. Life’s for living,now. I want you to get out there and enjoy yourself. Travel to somewhere hot, feel the sun on your skin, meet new people, have new experiences. Be happy.’

‘I’m fine!’ I repeated, not sure whether I was trying to convince Mum or myself. ‘I’m going back to bed.’ I closed the drawer and strode towards the door.

‘Wait!’ She grabbed my arm. ‘There’s something I need to show you.’ She plucked a glossy magazine off the table, flicked through it and thrust a double-page spread under my nose. ‘Look. It’s another feature on that hotel I was telling you about before. There’s three case studies of women in their thirties who were unlucky in love like you. Then they all went to The Love Hotel and found the men of their dreams!’

‘Not this again,’ I huffed. ‘I told you months ago, it’s not for people like me.’

The Love Hotel was an exclusive luxury resort near Marbella in Spain, which claimed to help people find their perfect match.

‘It’s foranyonewho wants to meet someone special. People arrive single and leave madly in love. It’s magical!’

‘It’s super fancy and expensive. Never mind saving up for a mortgage to buy a flat, the price of staying there for two weeks is a mortgage on its own.’

‘Yes, it’s pricey, but you get what you pay for. It’s five-star, all-inclusive accommodation and they hire the world’s best matchmaking experts to find the perfect partner for all their guests – that can’t come cheap.’

‘Exactly! Even if I thought it was a good idea, which I don’t, unless I win the lottery, there’s no way I’d be able to afford to go. You have to pay a massive deposit without any guarantee that you’ll even go to the hotel, never mind finding yourknight in shining armour.’

‘They ask for money upfront so their experts can search for a match on their high-tech database. You can’t expect them to do that for free. I really think it’s worth a try. Read the article. See for yourself.’

My gaze dropped to the pages. There was a couple kissing on the beach with a backdrop of an admittedly gorgeous, sun-drenched hotel.

‘It’s all very nice, but like I said, it’s out of my price range. My holiday budget is more Margate than Marbella. Night, Mum.’ I left the room.

Forget about the batteries. Thanks to that conversation, any desire I had ten minutes ago had evaporated.

I slipped back under the duvet, squeezed my eyes shut and willed the sleep to come, but it resisted. My mind was still racing.

Of course I’d love to travel more. And find the man of mydreams. Who wouldn’t? But I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to be pressured into dating again.

When I moved back home a year and a half ago, after breaking up with Tom, Mum went on and on, saying I needed to ‘get out there’ again.

Eventually she wore me down. I joined different apps, went on several dates and they all ended badly.

So, no. This time I was standing my ground. There’d be no apps and I definitely wouldn’t be applying for that posh hotel.

By next year hopefully I’d be able to scrape together enough for a deposit and could finally get a mortgage and buy a proper place of my own.

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