Michele Gorman - Match Me If You Can

‘Don’t just sit there!’ he shouted. ‘Give me a towel.’

And a spade to cover his … tracks.

Half an hour later Sarah was paralysed with cramp too, but at least she made it to the room. Just.

That restaurant was emptying more than their wallets.

Luckily Sissy wasn’t sick. Her squeamishness about raw fish saved her from the fate of her shitting siblings. But they couldn’t leave her to fend for herself on the beach while they dealt with the aftermath of bad seafood. It would have been cruel to make her stay in the room with them on her only proper holiday, so they had no choice but to take turns on the beach, ready to dash to the loo at the next eruption.

Sissy chose a different sun lounger each morning, tipping the towels onto the sand. Unfortunately she seemed to have a sixth sense about the towel’s owner. It was always the same German man. By mid-week, when Robin and Sarah were feeling nearly normal again, he no longer bothered to remonstrate with their stubborn sister, but silently collected his towel and moved along the beach.

They wouldn’t be going back to that hotel.

‘I know it’s not ideal,’ said Robin. ‘But having a day away, or maybe a weekend, is the best I can do right now. I’ll sort out a week in the new year, I promise. I can take Sissy myself if I need to. I know how important it is to her.’

‘You are still planning to come over for Christmas, aren’t you?’

‘Of course, I’ll be here.’

It was a new-ish tradition since their mum died. Rachel and Catherine both went home to their families. They always invited her but she wanted to be with Sissy and Robin. So they came to stay for Christmas Eve through Boxing Day and she cooked a feast. They fought over board games and ate their weight in Celebrations. ‘All three nights?’ She knew she was pushing her luck.

‘Definitely,’ said Robin. ‘Though Lucy will just come on Christmas night and stay for Boxing Day if that’s all right.’

It was more than all right. She made a face that she hoped passed for regret. ‘Too bad she can’t come the whole time, but I understand.’

Robin laughed. ‘I bet you’re really broken up about it.’

As she stirred the home-made pesto into the hot pasta, she thought, at least he’s coming for Christmas. I’m prepared to let Sissy’s holiday go. For now.

‘Wow, this is good,’ she said, when she slurped in the first long strands.

‘You’re not supposed to compliment your own cooking, you know. But yeah, you’ll make someone a nice little wifey one day. If you ever leave the flat.’

‘I’ll have you know that I’m joining Catherine’s website with Rachel.’

‘You’re kidding!’

If only, but Rachel wouldn’t let her get out of it. ‘Thanks for that vote of confidence.’

‘You’ll be a star, I’m sure. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I never pegged you for an internet dater.’

‘Rachel’s making me. Speaking of which, someone has to join with me. A man.’

‘Don’t look at me. I’m taken.’

‘I mean someone I’ve dated. I was thinking about Sebastian. Do you think he’d do it? Is he even still single?’

Robin laughed. ‘What do you think?’

‘Of course he is,’ they said together.

He took out his phone. ‘Here’s his number. Definitely get in touch. I think it’s a great idea, you online dating. You’ve barely been out since Mum died. You should stop punishing yourself.’

‘I’m not punishing myself. I’ve just been busy.’

‘Having a relationship with your oven isn’t the same as having one with a person, Sarah.’

Like she sat around all day icing cupcakes. He never seemed to realise how busy she actually was. She wanted to see Sissy a lot, but that meant less time for everything else. Add holding down a job and, soon, renovating a house and then see how much time was left for a relationship.

‘Shut up and eat your pasta,’ she told him instead.

Catherine hurried to the bar, wishing she’d changed into her ballerina flats for the walk. But after feeling frumpy in her jumper the last time she met Richard, she was back in uniform. The gunmetal grey suede heels perfectly matched her wrap dress. They were worth the bunion-bashing.

Richard hadn’t asked her for drinks in months before his wedding announcement. Then dinner with Magda and now this. It could only mean one thing. He had news, and she just bet it wasn’t good. She still felt strangely unsettled after meeting him and Magda. Nothing concrete had put her off, just a sixth sense. It was the same sense making her suspicious now.

At least Magda wasn’t joining them.

Her anger flickered when she saw that he hadn’t yet turned up. What was so important in his life that he got to be late?

At first she’d genuinely believed that his other work commitments were the sole reason for his dwindling commitment to RecycLove. But there’d been too many flimsy excuses. He’d definitely become more selfish since meeting Magda.

She felt like telling him that. They were business partners first and foremost. She’d have no trouble speaking to one of her staff who wasn’t pulling their weight.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of him.

Richard, you’re so rude , she texted. I’m leaving in two minutes if you’re not here.

She heard a phone ping behind her.

‘I got our wine,’ he said, setting the ice bucket on the table and kissing her cheek. He smelled of an unfamiliar cologne that made her think of car fresheners.

‘You’re late.’

‘Nice to see you too. And I’m not late. I was in the building, at the bar getting our drinks.’

‘I didn’t see you there.’

‘That’s because you’re too vain to wear your glasses.’ He poured the wine.

‘You know I hate it when you order for me.’

It was a habit he’d carried over from their marriage.

‘You always drink white. What’s got you in such a strop tonight?’

‘I don’t have a lot of time,’ she snapped. ‘I have to meet Rachel in an hour. And you are late.’

‘I feel sorry for Rachel then. You’re in a mood. Cheers. So how was your day, dear?’

It was no use. Richard never rose to argumentative bait. He was the worst person imaginable to pick a fight with. ‘It was busy, as usual,’ she said, reaching for her wine. He was right. It was exactly what she wanted.

‘Because of the new clients?’

‘Partly.’

‘And the makeover service, I guess. I’ve been thinking. We should roll it out to everyone.’

‘Everyone?! Richard, do you realise how much more work that would mean?’ She could barely get through her day as it was.

‘You could charge for it, of course. Then you could hire more consultants. And you said yourself that it wasn’t taking too much time.’

‘Yes, for two clients. It would be too much for the whole business.’

That was so typically Richard. He’d always underestimated the details.

Her mind flicked back to their move to America. Case in point.

Richard had made everything sound so simple when he got the offer to work in Washington DC. It was an adventure and she was welcome to come along.

‘Come along?’ she’d asked. ‘Come along?! What is that supposed to mean? Come along as what, exactly?’

‘Well, as my girlfriend, at least for now,’ he’d said, looking perplexed. ‘We don’t really have time to get married before we go. We’ll have to do it there. Or fly back to the UK after I start work if you want.’

‘You’re asking me to marry you?’ she’d whispered.

‘Well I assumed we would. Didn’t you?’

So that was her marriage proposal. Well I assumed we would.