Page 36 of (Not) The One
I’m not quite sure what I’ll do once I have it. But what I do know is I can’t stay with my parents much longer, not if I’m to maintain my sanity. I really can’t take the explosive anger, muted silences, and bursts of abuse anymore.
‘Let’s call them feedback cards,’ Oliva suggests.
‘So they get a little pencil—’
‘And as much free booze as they need to loosen them up,’ I add with a manic-sounding cackle. Oh, God. I need this call, and then I need this day to be over.
‘No, they get a glass of some drink they’re making in honour of the evening.’ Olivia points at the bar. ‘And there’s some prosecco after that, and a few bottles of wine; red and white. The last thing we need is a bunch of drunk, horny singles on our hands.’
‘That sounds like some of my best work.’ The words are out in the air before I can moderate them, the image of hot neighbour dude’s wicked smile flashing in my head.
‘Heather, it’s your job to collect the scorecards—’
‘Feedback cards,’ she corrects.
‘Yes, those. You collect them at the end of the evening. Then we’ll collate the scores, I mean, the information, and get back to the participants through their membership email.’
‘And then one or two of the couples will see each other again, they’ll have a date at the cinema, then he’ll take her for a nice meal, they’ll date for a couple of weeks, then shag, and fall in love. And then E-Volve gets in the newspapers again. Bish, bosh, bash!’
Both women look at me as though I’m losing my mind. And I think they might be on to something there.
‘Yeah, we’ll see,’ Oliva says stiffly.
‘You still don’t seem very excited about tonight. Come on, chill out.’ I take her elbow in my hand. ‘It’s going to be a grand success. People don’t take speed dating too seriously. It’s just a way to have a laugh and a few drinks, maybe meet some cool people, or get back into the saddle after a breakup.’
Already checked that somewhat off my list. By some bloke who was probably yucking it up with his plummy mates about that time he banged the pet-sitter.
‘It’s just for shits and giggles. That’s all.’
‘We’re not in business for shits and giggles, though, are we?’
‘You’re just feeling the pressure. First, the article inHiyamagazine and now theEvening News.But that’s what happens when you become half of the hottest power couple in London.’ She groans as though in pain. ‘Bolivia.’ Heavy emphasis on the B because she loves it so much.Beckett + Olivia = Bolivia.
‘Wipe that grin off your face. It’s such a terrible portmanteau.’
‘Port man what?’
‘Bolivia is a portmanteau of Beckett and Olivia, don’t you know?’
‘You mean like a name mashup?’
‘Yeah.’ She sighs. ‘Exactly like that.’
So say that then!
‘Bolivia isn’t that bad,’ I counter. ‘After all, it might’ve been Olecket.’
‘All done,’ Heather announces, coming to stand by my side with a big smile on her face. ‘Name badges are by the door, profiles and pencils are on the table, and ice breakers are in the buckets. What’s next?’
‘I know,’ I answer. ‘Let’s make an early start on that prosecco.’
* * *
I only intended to have one glass; I am working, after all. After greeting the threeLust Islandguys, who all seem very nice, polite Home Counties boys and not the loud, boorish lads Olivia had feared they would be, I facilitate introductions all around.
Olivia, Our Lady of Romance.
Reality TV totty.
