Page 29 of Starting Over in Starshine Cove
I make a whooping sound and punch the air with a celebratory fist. I didn’t want this – in fact I specifically told the girls I wasn’t interested – but now I’ve seen it I feel slightly curious. Plus, if someone puts you on a dating app behind your back, it’s at least nice to see that someone has liked you enough to respond, isn’t it?
I click on the icon and feel my eyes widen in surprise when I see that I have eleven messages. Wow. Go me.
Zack looks along with me, and I soon realise that of the eleven only a few are actually viable. One of them lives in Edinburgh, so I have no idea how he thinks that could work.
“This guy has a fake photo,” I say, pointing at one of the profiles. “Unless he actually is Cristiano Ronaldo.”
“Yeah. Maybe ignore that one. And some of them are really far away, so you’d have to get to know them online first and then see if you liked them enough to make the effort.”
I nod, then realise that I am getting carried away – this is all nonsense.
“It doesn’t matter how far away they are,” I announce firmly, as much to myself as him. “I won’t be getting to know any of them.”
“Why not? It could be fun – what have you got to lose?”
“Self respect, dignity, and in the case of Ronaldo there, possibly my life savings?”
Zack shakes his head, takes the phone from me and scrolls through, studying the potential candidates.
“What about these two? Both of them live within striking distance, and neither of them gives off an axe murderer vibe. Come on, humour me – take a look.”
“You only want me to do it so you’re not the only one getting stick about their love lives, don’t you?”
“That would certainly be an added bonus – but I also want you to do it for you. Connie, I completely understand where you are right now. I completely understand how hard this is – how scary. How even the thought of it feels like a betrayal of Simon and everything you meant to each other.”
I feel tears sting the back of my eyes at this, and bite my lip to stop it wobbling. I manage a small nod, and he continues: “But it’s not. Simon would want you to be happy, just as Rowena would want me to be happy.”
“I am happy!”
“Yes, I know – but I’m sure you could be even happier. Even if it comes to nothing, maybe it’s worth a try? Plus, I think it might go down well with Sophie. It was actually one of the reasons I started dating again – the girls wanted me to. I had zero interest, but they held an intervention, told me they were worried about me. Told me they wanted me to start living again.”
“God, that sounds awful,” I reply, turning away from the screen and looking at the man next to me. He smiles gently, and those disgustingly cute laughter lines crinkle together.
“It was. It was the last thing I wanted to hear – that I was worrying them. It’s supposed to be the other way around, isn’t it? I decided to give it a go, for their sake at first – Marcy was moving on with life, and Amy was planning her move to France. I didn’t want them sitting around holding meetings about their poor old dad, when they should have been enjoying the most carefree time of their lives. And once I’d been on a few dates… well, I suppose then I started doing it for me instead.”
I think about what he’s said, and wonder if my own children feel the same. They’ve never really said anything about it, but it could be true – am I casting a shadow on their lives because they think I’m not living mine to the full? Sophie did seemawfully keen on the idea – she’s gone to the trouble of setting up this profile, installing the app, everything. Maybe, like he says, I should give it a go – even if only to set her mind at rest. To reassure her that she doesn’t need to be concerned.
I go back to the messages, and study the profiles with a bit more of an open mind. Two of them, he’s right, look nice – and they both live within an hour’s drive, which by countryside terms is pretty much on your doorstep.
“Maybe one of these,” I say, pointing them out to Zack.
“Why not both?”
“Isn’t that a bit… icky?”
“Not in this universe, no. It’s not like you’re agreeing to marry them, is it? Nobody goes on a date expecting it to turn into something real – hoping, maybe, but not expecting. Nobody will think you’re immoral if you go on two dates, Connie. It’s how this works. Imagine it’s like the olden days, when you were in a bar or a club – you’d maybe chat to three or four guys before you found one you liked.”
“Right. I suppose. And for someone who doesn’t really use these apps, you seem to know a lot about them, by the way.”
He also seems very keen for me to get out there and meet new men, which I confess is slightly disappointing.
“Cultural osmosis,” he replies. “I have friends who use them, plus they featured in one of our shows so I did my research. And I wouldn’t rule out using them anyway, when the time is right.”
“Can I see your profile?” I ask, curious as to how he is presented to the online dating pool.
He grimaces, but finds it on his phone. The main picture is gorgeous – him side-on, at sunset in a place that looks a lot more exotic than London. He’s wearing a loose white linen shirt, his skin is even more golden, and his hair is lifted slightly in the breeze.
“Bloody hell,” I proclaim. “You look like the poster child for Saga holidays! Very glamorous.”
