Zoe May - Perfect Match

‘He was! It was quite funny actually,’ Sandra recalls. ‘He was sitting on his own by the window reading a book and three or four women tried to make conversation with him, but he just didn’t seem interested.’ She gives a little shrug.

‘Right, so he sat there on his own all evening thinking that I might just happen to show up? That’s a bit odd.’

‘No.’ Sandra tuts. ‘He only sat on his own for a bit and then his friend came and joined him for a drink.’

‘Right… So, what did his friend look like?’ I ask.

‘Oh, nothing special.’ Sandra shrugs. ‘Just a normal-looking guy. But the Robert Pattinson one kept looking over his friend’s shoulder towards the exit. I think he was looking out for you, just in case.’

I cast Sandra a wary look as I open the fridge door to get some milk.

‘This all sounds a bit strange,’ I muse, unscrewing the lid of what looks like the least curdled bottle. I take a sniff to find that it’s just about passable.

‘Very strange actually,’ I add as I pour the milk into the tea, trying to wrap my head around Sandra’s bizarre tale.

You don’t find men who are so gorgeous that they can silence a room on dating websites. You just don’t. I’ve tried enough of them to know. The only conclusion I can come to is that Sandra saw a slightly above average guy and managed to throw this whole thing out of proportion. Maybe he farted as he came into the pub and that’s why everyone went silent and started staring at him. Yes, that’s much more likely. He’s probably a complete dweeb who smells of farts. That’s the kind of guy you find on dating websites. I reach for the sugar and stir a few teaspoons into Sandra’s mug.

‘So, are you going to meet him then?’ she asks. ‘You’re not annoyed with me, are you? I didn’t mean to invade your privacy or anything. The message was just there on the screen and I thought it was such a bizarre coincidence that he was going to The Anchor and Hope.’

‘You should have spoken to him,’ I say.

‘Should I?’ Sandra looks perplexed.

‘Yeah. You two might have hit it off.’

Sandra snorts loudly. ‘Me? He wouldn’t be interested in me!’ she scoffs, and for a moment, I feel a little sorry for her.

‘You have to go on a date with this guy, Sophia, if it’s the last thing you do!’ Sandra insists as the kitchen door swings open.

‘Excuse me, ladies,’ Ted says, clearing his throat. ‘This isn’t the WI. I’m not paying you to have a cup of tea and a natter. You both have pressing deadlines and I don’t want to see a single comma out of place. Come along now, back to work.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Ted, ever so sorry,’ Sandra gabbles.

‘Yeah, sorry,’ I echo, putting the milk back in the fridge.

‘Just had a bit of a personal emergency but back to work, absolutely! So sorry!’ Sandra hurries after Ted, leaving me plodding down the hallway after them with the hot mugs of tea.

I sit back down at my desk and pick up my paper. Right, How to Prevent Catheter-induced Urinary Tract Infections Using Sterilisation. I flick through it. Nineteen pages long, could be worse. I jolt my mouse, bringing my screen to life. The Dream Dates website is still there, the profile of the Robert Pattinson lookalike staring back at me. Holy shit, he actually does look like Robert Pattinson; Sandra wasn’t just imagining it. Except his hair is thicker and his eyes are even more blue and piercing. And oh my gosh, his body! She wasn’t exaggerating when she said rippling abs and lean, toned thighs. Wow! This guy is something else. I scroll through his photos, getting more and more excited as I click through to some holiday shots of him lounging topless on a yacht, the sunlight melting over his perfectly chiselled pecs.

‘Last time I checked, our website didn’t contain photos of naked hunks.’

I turn around to see Ted standing at the photocopier behind my desk. I quickly close the window, but it’s too late.

‘What’s got into you today, Sophia?’ he tuts. ‘Come on, back to work.’

‘Yes, Ted. Sorry. Spam!’

Reluctantly, I get on with my work, although images of that guy’s piercing blue eyes keep flitting through my mind. I just want to go back on Dream Dates to get a better look but Ted keeps wandering through the office, peering over at mine and Sandra’s monitors to make sure we’re working. Finally, he heads out to get his daily elevenses, a blueberry muffin from the café down the road, and I’m back on Dream Dates quicker than you can say ‘romance’. I click on the last message this guy sent.

Daniel_86:

Hey Sophia,

It might seem a little forward but I’m going to be at this pub, The Anchor and Hope, in Waterloo, from around 7 tonight. Would be great to meet you if you happen to be in the area.

x Daniel

I scroll down and see that there’s another message, sent half an hour earlier.

Daniel_86:

Hi Sophia,

Thanks for putting a smile on my face! Your profile is the funniest and most downright honest thing I’ve read all day. I’m guessing you set it up for a laugh but I actually found your honesty pretty refreshing, and, bizarrely, I happen to meet the majority of your criteria. You probably won’t believe this, but I get told I look like Robert Pattinson all the time! I used to volunteer for an animal charity and I have a fluffy rescue cat called Esther! Crazy, huh?

I know it all sounds a bit unlikely, but when I read your profile, I was as taken aback as you probably are right now. Speak to you soon, I hope.

x Daniel

Oh my God, he actually sounds quite cool, as well as being ridiculously hot!

‘See, didn’t I tell you he was a catch?’ Sandra grins, looking over. ‘And isn’t his writing great?’

‘Yeah, it is…’ I reply, unable to peel my eyes away from his message. It sounds so friendly and so normal for a change. And Sandra’s right, his punctuation and grammar are spot on too, now that I come to think of it.

‘Are you okay? You seem a bit dazed,’ Sandra notes.

‘I just… I didn’t expect that at all.’

‘But didn’t I tell you? He’s a total dreamboat.’

Where does Sandra get these words, ‘dreamboat’ and ‘dish’? If it wasn’t for the fact that she despises make-up, I’d think she was some sort of beauty school dropout.

‘Yeah, he’s a dreamboat all right,’ I can’t help agreeing, although I’m still feeling a bit taken aback. That profile was a joke, I never expected to actually meet the kind of guy I described. And yet, I can’t help feeling a bit giddy at the prospect of having found someone who fits the bill – a sexy Robert Pattinson lookalike with a rescue cat!

‘You have to meet him, Sophia,’ Sandra insists. ‘You can’t let this one go.’

Suddenly Ted strides into the office, clutching a brown paper bag and steaming polystyrene cup. I quickly shut down the site and frown, as if I’m concentrating hard on catheters. Sandra does the same. Ted nods firmly in our direction before retreating to his desk.

I click into my emails and write a message to Sandra.

From: sophia.jones@shadwellmedicalresearch.org

To: sandra.jenkins@shadwellmedicalresearch.org

Subject: UTIs

Definitely not letting this one go!

Sandra looks over from her desk and gives me a big thumbs-up.

Chapter Five

‘You’ll never guess what?’ I bolt through the front door and rush over to the sofa.

‘What?’ Kate looks up from the script she’s reading as I plonk myself down next to her. She’s sitting cross-legged in her black and white striped leggings.

‘You won’t believe it. You know that ad we placed on Dream Dates? Well, this guy replied. He’s totally gorgeous. Looks like Robert Pattinson. Spitting image but better. Body of Daniel Craig. Oh my God and he has a cat called Esther and—’