Page 11 of Someone Like You

‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!’ I call out as I enter our flat. Staying after work to talk to Freya and her bestie, Gaby, has made me later than I’d hoped.

I kick off my heels, dump my handbag on the hallstand, and shrug out of my coat and hang it up. When I whip around, I discovermybestie, Shaz, her girlfriend, Lauren, and my husband all watching me with amusement.

‘Hi, lovelies,’ I say, breaking into a wide smile. I duck around the breakfast bar and plant a kiss on Shaz’s cheek, then Lauren’s. I ruffle the fur on Saffron’s head, and she leaps from Lauren’s lap to the floor in protest.

‘Little minx,’ I say under my breath. Our cat is madly in love with Tristan, will suck up to anyone who visits, including Tristan’s ice queen of a mother, but she barely tolerates me – the person who loves her most.

‘Hi, darling,’ says Tristan, coming around from the kitchen. Even wearing an ‘I love Tasmania’ apron – a gift from Mum and Dad last Christmas – he looks handsome. He lands a soft, lingeringkiss on my lips and any residual stress from my workday washes away.

My job is incredible, but helping people achieve their HEAs comes with the hefty weight of responsibility. I cherish my downtime, especially when I get to spend it with people – and a certain feline – I love.

I climb onto the stool next to Shaz, and Tristan, who’s now back in the kitchen, slides a glass of white wine across the countertop – he knows me so well. I blow him a kiss and he winks back. I take a sip – it’s my new fave, a Soave from northern Italy.

‘Client meeting run late?’ asks Shaz.

‘Sort of. You know Freya?’

She and Lauren nod – they’ve met Freya and her boyfriend, Freddie, a few times.

‘She wants me to match one of her best friends.’

‘Ooh, is it Gaby?’ asks Lauren. ‘’Cause she is…’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

‘Hey! I’m right here,’ says Shaz, feigning indignation.

‘You think she’s hot as well,’ Lauren quips back, and Shaz concedes with a shrug.

Gabyisvery attractive. She has a heart-shaped face, huge brown eyes, an upturned button nose, and full lips, and wears her wavy, chocolate-brown-with-caramel-highlights hair in a shoulder-length bob. She once told me that she inherited her frame – petite and compact with slim hips and lean, muscular limbs – from her mother. But I also know from Freya that she maintains it by working out a few times a week. She’s just not one of those people who talks non-stop about how much they exercise.

‘It’s not Gaby,’ I tell them. ‘It’s Raff.’

‘He’s the bloke who just wonBritain’s Best Bakers,’ Tristan says over his shoulder as he stirs a giant pot on the stove. From thearoma, it’s goulash – perfect for a wintery night. ‘He deserved to win.’

BBB, as we call it, is one of the few TV shows Tristan watches avidly. I encourage this near obsession for selfish reasons, as the baking challenges frequently inspire him to try new dishes. (Tristan’s the home chef in our family, whereas my kitchen-based abilities end with pouring cereal into a bowl and adding milk.)

‘Oh, yeah, I know who he is,’ says Shaz. She taps on her phone and brings up theBBBInstagram account, then shows us a post about Raff’s win.

Lauren reaches over to scroll through the comments. ‘Looks like you’ve got at least three hundred takers here, Poppy.’

‘Yeah, he’s become a bit of a pseudo-celeb-slash-heartthrob over the past few months,’ I reply.

‘Do people still say that, Poppy? Heartthrob?’ Lauren teases.

I shrug. ‘Better than “stud muffin”,’ I reply.

‘Oh hell, yes.’

‘Ha-ha!’ barks Shaz, who’s still reading the comments. ‘Listen to this one: “Rafferty Delaney is the hottest thing since sliced bread”.’ The three of us groan at the terrible joke.

The topic of Raff now exhausted, Shaz goes back to the story she was telling Tristan when I arrived home about their weekend away to the Cotswolds. For some reason, they were shocked by how cold it was – imagine cold weather in November! – and spent the entire weekend snuggled up inside the B&B (the poor things).

I only half listen as I sip my wine, happily observing how they are together, especially how contented Shaz is. This relationship is a far cry from the shitshow that made her want to leave Melbourne and start a new life here in London – with me in tow, also heartbroken.Andany of the shitshows since.

Although, it wasn’t all smooth sailing for Shaz and Lauren, andI did my part to help Shaz admit her feelings by playing agony aunt and devil’s advocate in equal measures.

But this is one aspect of being a matchmaker I’ve struggled with. Just because I’m a professional matchmaker doesn’t mean I need to steward the relationships of all the people I love – even peripherally.

Which brings me back to Freya and her plan for helping Raff. If Saskia and Paloma agree to let me take the case, how much is Freya going to want to interfere? There’s drawing a professional line in the sand and there’s reality. I know Freya, and I doubt she’ll be sidelined without peeking over my shoulder and giving her two cents’ worth.

---