Eva Woods - The Ex Factor

Rosa sent back a surprised emoji and opened her personal email again. She usually kept it closed, as Suzanne was not above snooping: ‘ So I notice you’re having painful periods, I want five hundred words on that by three. ’ The message from Marnie read Super awesome fourway dating plan!!!!! Five exclamation marks. The points on them seemed to wink at Rosa’s hungover brain.

Hi lovely ladies! Rosa groaned out loud . Following last night’s totes fun dinner, I have gone and done some further thoughts on our v v sensible plan. ‘Totes’ had really crept in as a word, Rosa thought. Maybe there was a feature in that… How your thirties are your new twenties. How thirty-something women are pretending to be younger, maybe because their husbands are leaving them for teenagers in cartoon T-shirts.

She read on.

So, I think the best thing to do would be to each pick a friend, then set them up with an ex of our choice. We’re bound to at least find someone decent that way. (TripAdvisor for men!) However I think there need to be some rules.

1. Only exes we are over! We don’t want broken hearts or unresolved tensions getting between us.

2. They must be nice. No hairy backs or creeps (unless you think your chosen friend will like that).

3. You must tell your friends every single detail! At the very least we can use this as a v v good social experiment. I’m thinking we should call it Project Love—the mission is to find us all a lovely date without the risks of going online.

Rosa groaned for a final time, disturbing the somnambulist occupant of the next desk, Sleepy Si, who did the night shifts. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed, as he settled back. She sent another emoji to Ani, this one startled and a little upset. In her current state of mind, the smiley faces seemed to sum things up better than words.

‘ Rosa?’

She took a deep breath. How did Suzanne manage to move around without making a sound? Did she have some kind of pact with the devil whereby she could defy the laws of physics? ‘Yes, hi!’

Rosa’s boss was standing over her, tapping one stiletto heel. With her leather trousers and teased blonde hair, she looked like Stevie Nicks with an account at Cos. ‘Meeting room. Now.’

Rosa scurried after her, wondering what Suzanne’s problem could be. Had the barista put full-fat milk in her latte? Had her childminder allowed the twins to watch Rastamouse again? Oh Lord, David was in the meeting room, along with various hacks from different parts of the paper. She slunk into a seat, trying to make herself as small as possible. David looked fresh and youthful, his facial hair shaved into some odd little beard. No doubt it was all the rage with the under-twenty-fives.

Jason Connell, Editorial Whizz-Kid, swept in, buttoning his suit. Rosa caught a whiff of lemon aftershave, masking the unmistakable scent of Alpha Male. ‘We’re up crap creek,’ he said succinctly. ‘Five clients have pulled their ads from this week’s supplement. We’ve even lost the underwear chain More Than a Handful, and they’ve been advertising with us since 1994.’ How did he know all this, when he’d only been in post for a month? Rosa supposed she ought to feel alarmed, but such was the horror of her hangover that nothing else could get to her. Not even David, taking notes in the corner like the school swot he was. ‘So I need ideas. And fast.’

She was dimly aware that people were saying things. ‘How about a piece on ways to save cash?’ The Money section. Reviled and mocked for the rest of the year, January was their one chance to shine, and even Jason gave them a brief smile for the effort. ‘Maybe. Thanks.’

‘What about the rise of mumpreneurs?’ That was David, who worked on Business. It wasn’t a bad idea. Rosa saw Suzanne’s nostrils twitch—he was treading on their turf.

Jason nodded. ‘Good. That kind of thing. We need something really snazzy. A big piece that will make people choose us over other papers and magazines.’ He pointed to Suzanne and Rosa. ‘There’s scope for Features to take market share from monthly consumer magazines too, if we come up with something good.’

God, what recycled guff could they peddle this time? Ways to revive your flagging sex life? Top winter sun destinations? Both things Rosa now had no use for.

‘Rosa.’ Jason’s steely eyes were fixed on her, and she felt an odd blush rising up her neck. ‘Any ideas?’

‘Um…organic veg boxes?’

A terrible idea. She heard Suzanne suck in air through her teeth. But Jason smiled encouragingly. ‘That workplace meditation idea—what did you call it? A lifestyle hack?’

‘Er, yeah.’

‘Right. Well, I want more like that. It’s January. Everyone’s in a rut, miserable, wanting to change their life. Except they don’t want to change their life at all. No one actually wants to quit their job and move to Bali.’

Rosa was nodding. She understood exactly what narrative they were selling: change without having to go through any actual change.

Suzanne snapped her fingers in Rosa’s face, hissing, ‘Come on, ideas, ideas.’

‘What, more?’

‘Yes, more. This is what we pay you for.’

It wasn’t, thought Rosa. They paid her to sub-edit, and she did features for no extra on the side, but her mind had gone blank. ‘Um…um…’

‘Come on!’ Suzanne’s face was almost moving—and you really didn’t want that. Everyone was staring. Jason, David. All waiting for her to say something decent, anything to prove she was still capable of journalism. ‘I want an idea, Rosa!’

Rosa said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Um… what about a pact to date your friends’ exes?’

* * *

Helen.

Helen read Marnie’s email with a sinking heart. She was still in her dressing gown, though it was gone midday. The business card of the weird IT guy was in her pocket, poking into her stomach. She reread the line: We don’t want broken hearts or unresolved tensions getting between us!

Well, that was one rule that had been broken for years. She wondered if Marnie had thought of Ed when she’d suggested this dating swap. It was her idea to pass on exes. Would she even mind if it was him?

She looked down at her phone. Imagined typing it. Hey, Marnie, sorry I forgot to mention this but I kind of slept with Ed? But no. She couldn’t. And she couldn’t do this dating pact. Because Helen knew from bitter experience that one of the worst things you could ever do was fall in love with your friend’s ex.

Chapter 4 The Accidental Proposal

Ani

Ani had a terrible habit, almost shameful in modern times—she was incorrigibly on time for everything. She did her best, slowing her walk right down on the way from the tube to the restaurant, but she was still only four minutes late. She ordered a gin and tonic in the almost-empty restaurant, and when she thanked the waiter he said something in reply. ‘I’m sorry?’ He said it again and she realised—Hindi. ‘Er…I only speak English, sorry.’

She’d hoped it would be a cool Brick Lane place, of the type Rosa was always having to do features on, where they served the food in hammocks or only ate cereal or things on toast. She looked at the laminated menu—a bit of curry was stuck on the side. It wasn’t a cool place. And Will was late. Despite years of dating, Ani had not been able to reconcile herself to the lax attitude to time most people displayed. On impulse she texted Marnie: Waiting for late date. Many misgivings.

Marnie came back: Might be OK? Give him a chance!

Horrible Indian restaurant. Twenty minutes late. Rebound man.

Hmm. Three strikes already. May as well stay though—a girl has to eat.

That was true, Ani thought. It was nice having Marnie back, rather than off roaming the world somehow. She’d actually missed her. Despite everything. So she stayed, but she’d already eaten her way through five poppadums with lime pickle when Will walked in the door. Twenty-five minutes late. Just inside her threshold for ‘no longer pretending it’s OK’, which was half an hour. ‘Hi!’ She half rose, wondering if they’d hug, then sat down again when he pulled out a chair. ‘How are you? Good Christmas?’