Page 19 of A Lot to Unpack
‘That’s good, because I need you to go to Canada,’ she says with the sort of casual tone you would send someone to the corner shop for milk with.
‘I’m going to Canada?’ I reply, certain that’s what she said, but I can’t quite believe it. Yeah, she’s had me doing all sorts of paperwork, for going to different places, but she’s always made it clear that it would be a last-minute thing, if I was needed or not. I guess I’m finally needed.
‘Is that a problem?’ she asks.
‘No, not at all, I’m glad to have something to do,’ I tell her. ‘I’ve been feeling a bit useless – is there anything else I can be doing? I want to help…’
‘The best thing you can do is to be on call, should we need an assistant,’ she replies. ‘But, yes, okay, if we don’t call on you to assist with things, what you could do for me is, wherever you are, I want you to use Matcher.’
‘What, like… you want me to make a profile and swipe on people?’ I reply – again, in disbelief.
‘Yes, sign up, swipe, maybe meet a few people – you never know who you might spot on there – and then write me a report on each location you use it – how does that sound?’ she replies.
It sort of sounds like she’s inventing a task for me but, again, what else can I say?
‘Right, okay, yes, I can do that,’ I tell her.
‘Great,’ she says. ‘I’ll let you get back to your family. But straight back tomorrow to pack your things, yes?’
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Looking forward to it!’
We say our goodbyes and I’m careful to dial back the enthusiasm to something a bit more realistic, but I’m so excited to be going somewhere, and doing something, even if it’s still giving major red flags. Going to Canada sounds great – using Matcher sounds awful, but I guess I’ll download it and give it a go. For my report. I suppose it could be fun though, to try it out, to go meet someone maybe… because as much as I love my family, I can’t face another night of falling out over boardgames and dancing to Elvis songs until 2a.m. – to paraphrase the man himself: no, thank you very much.
It’s the first time we’ve all been together, since the engagement party, and I’d always thought the worst thing would be people talking about what happened with Ben and asking loads of questions, but what’s happening instead is far worse. It’s like people are talking about it, without actually talking about it.They’re asking about my love life, if I’m seeing anyone – if I’ve seen anyone, even, just for confirmation that I can still attract a man.
I suppose when you’re bored, looking for an escape, and with everyone I love highlighting that I’m single, then a little boss-ordered time on Matcher might be exactly what I need to feel, I don’t know, like I’m not as hopeless as everyone seems to think I am.
My brief look on Matcher was on Ben’s phone and there were so, so many girls. Here though, on the island, I guess there aren’t many takers, so all three (yep, just three) of my options are on the screen together. I suppose when there aren’t that many people, if you get too swipe-happy, there’s no one left.
Okay, so, three men. Wow, I feel like I’m on Blind Date. Let’s see who we’ve got…
There is Arnold, from here on the tiny island. Tim, from here on the tiny island. And finally, there is Woody, from – you’ve guessed it – here on the tiny island.
Arnold, unfortunately, is in his late sixties, and the only daddy issues I have is that I thought mine was going to strangle me over a game of Scrabble yesterday, so he’s an easy no.
Potentially an even easier no still is Tim. Not only do I get a bad vibe from the line ‘no crazy chicks’ but the fact that he’s the local fishmonger puts me off because I’m imagining him being a bit smelly – but even if he likely isn’t, his attitude stinks, so that’s that.
Which means we have a winner: Woody, a thirty-two-year-old electrician with no immediate red flags on his profile.
I’ll drop him a message, see what happens, and if there are as few women on this app, on this island, as there are men, I might just win by default too.
I’m alone in the kitchen, making cups of tea for everyone, when cousin Hannah walks in.
‘Is that the Garfield mug?’ she asks me.
‘Yeah,’ I reply.
‘Remember how we used to fight over it, when we were kids?’ she says with a laugh.
I remember that she used to kick off if she didn’t get it.
‘This mug is older than us – it will probably outlive us too,’ I say instead.
‘You’re right,’ she replies, her smile unnerving. ‘Are you okay, after what happened at my… Are you okay?’
I feel like she stopped, right before she made it about herself, which I appreciate. I feel like she does really care.
‘Ahh, I’m fine,’ I reply. ‘I’m sorry for the way it came out. It was just such a shock and I was really mad at him.’
