Page 55 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

The fire suddenly erupts within me. My mental torture melts and gives way to a surge of power, invigoration and determination. Icando this. I’ve overcome my fears before. I’ve proved how capable I am. McArthur Cohen and my ex-colleagues do not get to take me down. I have a talent for writing:thatis the way forward. The only thing that’s getting in the way of thatisme.

‘MY ONLY TRUE BARRIER IS MYSELF. MY ONLY TRUE BARRIER IS MYSELF. MY ONLY TRUE BARRIER IS MYSELF.’

I shout the words over and over, allowing them to gallop away into the whooshing and whirling sky. Eventually, a wave of calm and confidence envelops me, and I stop reciting my mantra. I’m ready to write. I enjoy the feelings of tranquillity and anticipation for a few moments longer, then turn to head back indoors.

‘Young lady.’ A faltering elderly male voice suddenly descends from above me. ‘That was quite inspired. Even I want to take over the world now.’

I look up to my right and see an old man sitting on a patio chair on his balcony, puffing on a pipe. Instead of feeling a burning humiliation from being overheard, my inner composure surprisingly holds.

‘I’m glad,’ I call up to him. ‘And you know what? You can if you want to.’

‘Think it’s a bit late for me.’ He chuckles. ‘But it’s definitely not too late for you. Go get ’em, my dear. Goodness, we need more people like you running our country.’

‘Thanks.’ I smile up at him. ‘Enjoy your pipe.’

Laughing to myself, I open the balcony door, and step indoors, and as I do, I hear a hammering on my front door. Glancing at my watch, I curse out loud as I realise that I’ve wasted the whole morning and Dylan’s already here. So much for realising the benefits of my motivational outpouring!

Dylan begins pounding my front door again, just as I open it.

‘Calm yourself,’ I greet him as his knocking fist almost connects with my face.

‘What you been doing, Squirt?’ he complains as he skulks past me, laptop bag slung over his shoulder. ‘I’ve been out here for ages. You got stomach trouble or something?’

‘No, I don’t.’ I eye him disapprovingly. ‘I was on the balcony. Don’t be so grumpy. Why don’t you just use the buzzer like normal people? It’s louder.’

He ignores my question. ‘You got your first blog post ready?’

‘Err… no. Not yet.’

‘What? Why not?’

‘Because… I had a telephone interview this morning.’ I’m reluctant to share my crisis of confidence. ‘Kind of came out of the blue.’

‘Oh? What’s the job?’ Dylan’s face perks up, leaving me feeling a bit guilty. ‘Did it go well?’

‘Not really.’ I wave my hand dismissively. ‘Crossed wires. Turns out it wasn’t what I thought.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘It’s fine. No biggie. You hungry?’ I gesture towards the fridge, a sure-fire way to distract him. ‘I’ve got a stocked fridge. How about you have something to eat and start setting up my blog site? I’ll see what I can come up with.’

An hour and a half later, I hop off my bar stool, and join Dylan on the couch.

‘I’m done. How are you getting on?’

‘Well done, you.’ Dylan looks impressed. ‘Let’s have a read then.’

We swap laptops and sit in silence for several minutes inspecting each other’s work. I finish first and sit quietly until Dylan’s done too; reading isn’t his biggest strength. After a short while, he sits back thoughtfully.

‘Well?’ I prompt him. ‘What do you think?’

His reaction throws me. My first instinct is that he thinks it’s rubbish but doesn’t know how to tell me. The nagging self-doubt from earlier starts to loom again.

‘Dylan?’ I try again.

‘I think…’ he says eventually. ‘I think it’s bloody amazing.’

‘You do?’

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