Zoe May - Perfect Match

‘Sophia!’ Kate interrupts a little loudly. ‘What are you on about?’

‘That ad we placed on Dream Dates the other night. Well this guy replied, he basically meets all the criteria, except maybe the penis size, he didn’t mention that, but he seems to be my dream date!’ I clap my hands together.

Kate raises an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, right. So, what, some random guy messages you claiming to be the spitting image of Robert Pattinson?’

‘Yeah, but I saw his pics and he actually is and—’

‘Sophia, any idiot can take photos off Google of Robert Pattinson and create a profile on a dating website. You’re not buying into that are you?’ She gives me a wary look like I might have finally lost it for real.

‘I’m not going crazy, trust me,’ I insist. ‘Sandra’s seen him and apparently he looks just as good in person, if not better.’

‘Sandra’s seen him?’ Kate looks confused.

‘Yeah.’ I tell her the story of how Sandra ended up checking him out in The Anchor and Hope.

‘Sandra?’ Kate enunciates. ‘Sandra?’ She raises her voice a little louder. Reading the script must have thrown her into full-blown melodramatic actor mode.

‘You’re not actually trusting Sandra for dating advice, are you? The woman whose closest brush with intimacy is cuddles with little Hammy?’

‘Her hamster’s called Betsy actually.’ I point out.

Kate tuts. ‘Same difference.’

I feel myself sink a little into the sofa, my shoulders slumping. What if I have got carried away? Kate’s right, he could have used photos from Google. Why didn’t that occur to me? Maybe he’s a pro at Photoshop. He might have enhanced the eyes to make them even more striking and merged Daniel Craig’s body with RPatz’s head. It’s not like I’ve seen this guy with my own eyes, I am basing everything on what Sandra says and it’s true, she’s hardly an authority when it comes to men.

‘Look, I don’t mean to piss on your parade but I’ve just seen you do this so many times.’ Kate fixes me with a serious look. ‘You build men up to be these absolute gods and then you get disappointed when you realise they’re just normal human beings. That’s always your downfall. I just think you need to take a more rational approach to dating, take things slowly, don’t expect the world and keep an eye out for weirdos,’ she tells me sagely.

‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right,’ I admit reluctantly.

Kate places her script down on the coffee table. ‘Well, let’s see him then.’

I glance up at her. ‘Eh?’

‘Show me his profile,’ she insists.

‘But you think he’s a fake?’

‘Yeah, but I want to see the profile anyway. I’m curious now.’

‘All right.’ I grab Kate’s laptop from the table and open a browser. I log on to Dream Dates and pull up Daniel’s profile.

Kate pulls the laptop onto her lap and clicks through his photos with a blank expression, not saying a word.

‘Well?’

‘He’s gorgeous,’ she remarks. ‘You weren’t exaggerating when you said he looks like Robert Pattinson.’

‘I know!’ I can’t help grinning. ‘Just think what he’d look like in the wedding photos! And we’d have such cute babies!’

‘His lips are actually better and those eyes…’ Kate slowly shakes her head. ‘He must be really good at Photoshop.’

‘What?’

‘Well, yeah, obviously! Someone’s winding you up! You say you want a Robert Pattinson lookalike and then the first guy who messages you is exactly that.’

‘He wasn’t the first guy who messaged me,’ I tell her. ‘There were loads before him.’

‘Oh.’ Kate looks taken aback. ‘Why didn’t you mention them?’

I shrug. ‘Just the usual drivel. Not even worth mentioning.’

‘Hmmm…’ Kate scrolls down Daniel’s profile. ‘Income over one hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year, six foot one, twenty-nine years old. Yeah right.’ She rolls her eyes.

‘But Sandra saw him,’ I remind her.

‘Well maybe Sandra created this profile! Maybe she’s catfishing you to get you back for never having gone with her to knitting club!’ Kate suggests, her eyes sparkling wickedly.

I grab the laptop.

‘Are you deleting your account?’ she asks.

‘No, just logging off.’

‘Sophia…’ Kate groans.

I log off and snap the laptop closed, before setting it back down on the coffee table.

‘You’re not annoyed, are you?’ Kate asks, giving my hand a squeeze. I look down at her fingers. She used to love wearing nail varnish at university but ever since she became an actress, she’s had to keep her nails natural and neat. I guess nail varnish would look a bit out of place in a Shakespeare play.

‘I’m not annoyed, I’m just…’ I pause, searching for the right word. ‘Disappointed. You’re probably right. It’s probably a prank or something.’

Kate nods. ‘In my experience, when things seem too good to be true, they usually are…’

‘Yeah. Oh well.’ I stand up and take off my coat before hanging it up by the door.

‘Don’t be down, you’ll meet someone soon.’ Kate smiles, before picking up her script.

‘What’s the script for?’ I ask as I sit back down.

Kate’s face lights up.

‘Oh, it’s for an audition for The Mousetrap !’ she explains. ‘I’m getting a bit tired of playing Des, and I think the public’s getting sick of it too. They’re thinking of pulling the play, so I’m going to have to find something new.’

‘But something modern?’

‘Yeah, my agent’s encouraging me to be a bit more versatile. Says I’ll regret it later if I pigeonhole myself into Shakespeare now.’ Kate smiles, a little ruefully.

‘So, what’s the new role?’ I ask.

‘The main character! Mollie Ralston. It’ll be an easy gig! Basically, I just have to be freaked out and neurotic the whole play. So much easier than playing Des.’

‘Sounds really cool!’

‘Yeah, it should be!’ Kate says, her eyes bright and hopeful.

‘Fingers crossed!’ I hold up my crossed fingers and Kate crosses hers back.

‘Want a hot chocolate?’ I ask.

‘Nah, I’m all right, thanks.’

‘Oh, another postcard arrived,’ she tells me, gesturing at a postcard of an exotic beach, half covered by some junk mail on the coffee table. I pick the postcard up and turn it over to read the message. It’s from my mum and dad who are on a round-the-world cruise.

Hi Darling ,

We just left Phra Nang beach in Thailand. It was paradise! Absolutely beautiful. Although your dad thought it would be funny to eat deep-fried crickets in Bangkok and was running to the loo the whole time! About to get back on the cruise ship now. Next port – Penang – Malaysia!

Love and miss you!

Mum XXX

I turn it over and look at the beach again. It really is beautiful. Shimmering blue water, cloudless sky, white sand. I can just imagine my mum lounging by the sea, with one of her favourite detective novels open on her lap, her ridiculously wide-brimmed sunhat casting shadows over her face, and my dad, no doubt wearing one of the cringe-worthy Hawaiian shirts he always packs for holidays, sprinting off to the loo every five minutes. I feel a pang of longing for them. My parents are so sweet. They met at a school disco when they were seventeen. Love at first sight, apparently. I know my mum would love for me to find someone and have something similar to what she’s got with Dad but I don’t think she realises that, these days, you’re more likely to find lust at first swipe than love at first sight.

I head over to the fridge and stick the postcard to the door with a magnet, next to all the others from my parents’ cruise. They’ve been away for around three months now, and still have a couple of months to go. Unlike most of my friends’ parents, mine are in their late sixties and retired a few years ago. They tried for a child when they were younger but, in the end, they just gave up on the idea. Then, when my mum turned forty, she suddenly got pregnant with me. Completely out of the blue. Her little miracle , she used to say.