Page 8 of Someone Like You

If Raff was pissed at his aunt for applying to a TV show on his behalf – a show he’d dreamt of being on foryears– how pissed will he be if Freya attempts to match him?

I really need to talk Freya out of it.

I didn’t talk Freya out if it. Instead, it’s late afternoon on Monday and I’m at Freya’s agency for an ‘informal chat’ with her colleague, Poppy.

I’ve been to the Ever After Agency several times over the years – mostly to meet Freya after work. It’s a modern, open-plan office that occupies the top floor of a building overlooking the Thames inRichmond. We’re in one of the meeting rooms, which has a view of the river, and Poppy is leaning against the windowsill listening intently to Freya.

I’ve hung out with Poppy before – so has Raff – and she’s an easy-going, affable gal who comes out with the most hilarious Australian expressions. She once said yes to a glass of wine because her throat was ‘drier than a dead dingo’s donger’. I’m sure I’ll remember that for the rest of my life.

And she’s married to the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen (and I’m not exaggerating). His name is Tristan and they were matched through the agency – there was an inheritance and he needed to get married in a month or something. Anyway, they’re one of those couples they write romcoms about – madly in love, only have eyes for each other… If Iwerea romantic, their relationship would be #couplegoals.

‘So, what do you think?’ Freya asks Poppy when she finishes outlining her plan. Since Saturday afternoon at CiCi and Devin’s, it has grown legs, arms, and a torso, including an absurd suggestion that we wear disguises to spy on Raff.

Poppy looks to me, wearing a curious expression. ‘I’m more interested in whatyouthink,’ she says.

‘Oh, I…’ I look over at Freya, who nods at me enthusiastically. Only if I answer honestly, she’s not going to like what I have to say.

‘Any reservations?’ Poppy adds. ‘From your reaction, it seems like you weren’t across some of the details till now.’

Poppy is also super sharp. Freya once told me her ability to read people is second to none at the agency – something to do with her being a psychologist before she became a matchmaker.

‘Reservations, uh… yes,’ I reply, and she nods in understanding. Her eyes dart towards Freya then back to me, telegraphing that I need to speak up.

She’s right and with a sigh, I turn to Freya. ‘Hun, I’m sorry, butthis is insane.’ She visibly deflates. ‘Well-intentioned, absolutely,’ I hurry to add, ‘and I’m with you on the whole Raff-deserves-better thing…’ To Poppy, I say, ‘It’s impossible to exaggerate how much we disliked Winnie.’

‘Uh, I’d say Freya made that pretty clear,’ Poppy says, her mouth twitching at the corners.

‘But, even so,’ I say to Freya, ‘you’ve got us running around London in disguise, spying on Raff… If he caught us…’ Now I’m doing a Freya and leaving my thoughts half unsaid.

‘But he deserves to be happy,’ she insists.

‘Totally, without question. It’s just… what if he gets pissed at us for interfering in his love life?’

‘But he said to go ahead,’ she replies earnestly.

‘He was kidding, Frey!’

She frowns. Nope, that’s a pout. My best friend is pouting like a little kid.

‘Can I step in here?’ asks Poppy.

‘Fine,’ Freya replies tersely. This obviously isn’t how she saw the conversation going.

‘Please,’ I say, hoping Poppy will be the voice of reason.

‘I’ve met Raff a few times, but it’s not like I’ve ever quizzed him on his philosophy of love – those were social occasions. Still, from everything I’ve heard – including today – he does seem like a true romantic, someone who loves love.’

‘Meaning?’ I ask.

‘Meaning that from my limited perspective, I’d say Raff longs to be in a relationship – so much so, he’ll settle for one that isn’t right for him.’

‘Noneof them have been right for him,’ Freya mumbles.

‘That only gives more weight to my theory,’ states Poppy. ‘How did he meet Winnie?’ she asks us.

‘Flutter,’ we reply together.

‘He’s been on other dating apps,’ I add, ‘but he said the women on Flutter were more interested in relationships than… well,sex.’

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