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Then he’d call others over: Hey everyone, this is Aureliana! Remember her? As if she was so stupid she wouldn’t decode the Bloody hell, how did this happen? And she’d feel like something in a zoo. They always did treat her like a separate species. She should never have come.
‘Anna? Anna …?’ Laurence shook his head and waited for the surname.
Mercifully, magically, letters in Comic Sans came back into her head.
‘… I’m supposed to be at Beth’s leaving do, next door. I wasn’t sure if I was in the right place, I don’t know many of the other guests. I was trying to finish my drink and slip out before anyone noticed.’
A wolfish grin spread across Laurence’s face and she could see he was delighted at having a conversational opening.
‘The whole SCHOOL REUNION banner thing didn’t tip you off?’
‘I … uhm. Usually wear glasses, the words were fuzzy.’
‘Well, you’ve just settled a bet with my friend,’ Laurence said, calling out: ‘You were right! She’s not from Rise Park. We were agreeing there’s simply no way we wouldn’t have remembered you.’
And before Anna could stop him, he’d beckoned James Fraser to join them.
9 (#ulink_e7a9473c-1998-5caa-9f3a-b22f06f06638)
‘James, this is Anna. Anna, James.’
‘Hi,’ James put his hand out to shake hers. It was chilly and slightly damp. She gave him a look that was simultaneously intense and unreadable.
‘Anna here is actually meant to be in Beth’s leaving do in the next room. But lucky old us, she stumbled in here by mistake.’
Anna looked awkward and James tried to convey with his eyes that he wasn’t encouraging or condoning Loz’s hitting on her.
‘Who is Beth and to where is she departing?’ Laurence asked.
‘Uhm. She’s my cousin,’ Anna said.
‘And …?’ Laurence made a ‘tell us more’ circling gesture with his hand.
‘And …’ Anna’s line of sight cast around the room, as if looking for escape. ‘She works at Specsavers. She’s travelling round Australia. Flying to Perth.’
Poor Anna was clearly dying to be released to Beth from Specsavers’ karaoke song murdering party. James was wishing very hard he’d reminded Laurence that striding over and introducing yourself to sultry strangers rarely went well. Not that it would have stopped him.
‘Wait, wait. Are you saying you came in here without your specs, but you literally shoulda gone to Specsavers?’ Laurence hooted.
Anna waited for him to finish laughing. James rolled his eyes in what he hoped came off as tacit apology.
‘Anyway. Australia!’ Laurence said. ‘Always quite fancied the Outback. James here says Oz is the choice of boring uncultured beer monsters, but I disagree.’
Oh my God, we’re playing good cop, bad cop now? You utter … James was going to have some words for Laurence when they left, not all pre-watershed.
‘Not exactly,’ James said.
Anna looked at him with burgeoning hostility.
‘James here works for a digital agency, lots of big impressive clients. And I’m in sales. Pharmaceutical sales. So if you’re fresh out of Anusol, I’m your man.’
‘Loz, how about we let Anna get to the right party?’ James said, hoping to redeem himself and halt the haemorrhoids chat. She scowled at him, as if he was trying to get rid of her.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Given this reunion has all the atmosphere of a Quaker quilting party, how about you smuggle us in to Beth’s do, and we buy you drinks by way of thank you?’
‘Loz!’ James said, sharply, writhing with embarrassment.
‘I think Beth might mind,’ Anna said.
‘Nah. Sounds like there’s karaoke in there? I do a belting “Summer of ’69”. Come on. Don’t you think it’d be a laugh?’
‘Nope,’ Anna said, smiling. ‘Bye.’
She slipped away through the door and Loz let out a low whistle. ‘Was that a second or third degree burn?’
‘You can’t hustle a woman you’ve never met before into drinking with you, without her exerting her free will to tell you to sod off,’ James said, shaking his head.
Laurence gazed at the door, as if Anna might come back through it.
‘Do you think that was a hint for us to follow her?’
‘No, Loz. Now can we go?’
Laurence shrugged, scanned the room and necked the last of his pint.
Minutes later, debating ‘more beer or kebabs’ on the pavement outside, Laurence prodded James’s arm. He urgently gestured down the street.
There, a few yards away, was the Mysterious Anna, climbing into a cab.
‘Can you believe it? The lying …’
‘Haha!’ James liked her style.
‘If she wasn’t really going to that leaving do, why was she in ours?’
‘She was left so depressed by one encounter with you, she couldn’t face any more socialising?’ James said.
‘No. This is officially weird. Maybe she did go to our school and didn’t want to say.’
They watched the cab turn the corner and then set off down the street in the stinging chill, chins angled down into coat collars.
‘Do you remember any Spanish-looking girls at our school?’ James said.
‘Nope. You know, her whole story was off. How could you not read a banner that big? You’d need to be Stevie Wonder.’
‘OK, try this for an explanation. Someone from school is a suspected terrorist and she’s an MI5 spook. The suspect’s gone to ground and the whole reunion was a herd and trap ruse by the British secret services to lure the target out. This Anna is their top woman, on secondment from Barcelona. But crucially, they forgot that to pass muster undercover as an ex-pupil of Rise Park, you need a KFC-zinger-tower-and-twenty-a-day complexion.’
James glanced over at Laurence and started laughing.
‘What?’ Loz said.
‘Oh, just the fact you were actually considering that as more likely than an attractive woman not wanting to talk to you.’
10 (#ulink_b50d09da-621c-5396-a147-40d3d01486e5)
‘So, how did the reunion go?’ Patrick asked, as Anna put down a cup of tea on his desk.
Patrick’s office was as forensically neat as his clothing and, unlike Anna, he didn’t use chairs as receptacles for overflow from his shelves.
‘It was … peculiar.’
Anna debated saying no one recognised her but she realised that would involve pulling worms out of cans like streamers.
‘Didn’t run into any old flames?’
Patrick was a ‘committed’ – read: resigned – bachelor. His terror that Anna might betray singles club by finally meeting someone was only matched in scale by her equal certainty that she never would. She sipped from her own cup of tea and hovered.
‘You must be kidding. No old flames at Rise Park, more scorch marks.’ She wanted to talk about something else. ‘How’s The Guild doing?’
‘Good thanks. Spent the weekend disciplining wayward teenage Danish warlocks and facerolling our way through the current wave of raid progression.’
‘Much like here then. You’re still a panda?’
Patrick always knew he could discuss his hobby without fear of judgement from Anna. She might not be a gamer herself but there was a geek solidarity.
‘In Pandaria. Only temporarily. I used to be a female orc. A shaman.’
‘Ah.’
Patrick was mostly into what Anna had learned to call ‘immersive’ games like World of Warcraft. He always tried to persuade Anna to give it a go, but she was dubious, especially when she found out he wore a headset microphone.
‘Still, glad you went to the reunion, all told?’ Patrick said.
Anna pondered this. She was more perplexed by it than anything.
‘It was a useful reminder of everything and everyone I don’t have to put up with any more, put it like that. Like a vaccine shot of aversion therapy in the buttock. After that, I appreciate every single little thing about work today.’
She beamed and Patrick beamed back, perfectly in tune.
‘Oh woe, I have first years at ten a.m. I challenge you to appreciate them,’ Patrick said. ‘I think this lot are the worst yet.’
‘We say that every year.’
‘I know, I know … but were we ever this bad?’
‘We did go on to become batshit old lecturers ourselves, so we’re hardly typical.’
‘I suppose so.’ Patrick swilled his tea. ‘I had one last week who sat there and said “Henry VII was brilliant, just brilliant.” As if you can skip the set texts and get your pom poms out and cheerlead instead. And I said “Brilliant how?” and he said’ – Patrick mimed a blank stoner face – “Just … brilliant.” Roll over Simon Schama, there’s a new guy in town. Another of them thought parsimony had something to do with income from parsnips. They should get a TV show together, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Historical Adventure.’
Anna laughed. ‘’Fraid I can’t say the same in return. My freshers are eager beavers. Plus, Operation Theodora Show kicks off this week.’
‘Well done you. Can’t wait to see it. Feather in your cap with poison Challis, too.’
‘Hope so.’ Victoria Challis was their head of department. She didn’t have a warm and inviting demeanour, it had often been noted. She did, however, have the keys to the research funds and promotions cabinet.
‘Lunch later?’ Patrick said.
‘Yes! My shout. It’ll take my mind off having to go wedding shopping with my sister tonight.’ Anna picked up a folder on Patrick’s filing cabinet and lightly batted it against her forehead.
‘Ah. Choosing flowers and trying different flavours of sponges and so on?’
‘She’s looking for her wedding gown—no, NO sentiment,’ Anna held up a finger as Patrick formed a soppy face. ‘There’s the “aww” factor and also the “argh”. If Aggy finds The Dress and it’s huge, I’ll have to follow the showy theme as a bridesmaid. It’ll be tangerine or canary yellow shot silk with a zebra print fur trim, like some “Santa Baby” swingy thing. My sister’s taste is very “Miami”. She has already uttered the bowel-freezing phrase “seen something in the Ashley and Cheryl Cole wedding”. Given they’ve divorced, it might even be the actual thing on eBay.’
‘Ah. Well. I am sure you’d look marvellous in a refuse sack.’
Anna made her umpteenth face of gratitude. ‘Thanks. See you later.’
Patrick beamed, doing a little wave as she exited.
Returning to her office and sitting down to her computer, Anna saw a name she didn’t recognise in her email and realised it was Neil from Friday. She could see from the preview window that this said rather more than she required; it used the word ‘lovers’. And an emoticon. Christ’s fuzzy clackers.
She opened and read it, feeling her piss steadily boiling as she did so.
Dear Anna,
I am sorry you didn’t feel our date had the required ‘spark.’ I enjoyed it very much. If you will allow me to give you some feedback in return, I think you may be more likely to discover this elusive ‘spark’ if you are more open in your attitude. I found it difficult to get you to enter into a real conversation and our topics rarely strayed from the superficial. In fact, I got the sense you found honesty positively intimidating. I require a little more confidence in my lovers. And in general, I am tired of women over thirty who claim to want to meet an available man, then play the game of ‘catch me if you can’ once they know he’s interested. This rigmarole is not for those of us not in the first flush of youth
However, having said this, I’d be prepared to try a second date if you persuade me it is worthwhile.
Best wishes,
Neil
Anna wrestled the temptation to craft a stinging riposte. She should resist. Ah, sod it. She opened a reply.
Dear Neil,
I’m not playing any game, I’m simply saying no thanks to another date. Maybe you’d have had more luck if you didn’t make presumptuous and egotistical judgements like this about women you don’t know. Or make rude observations about their age. Or quiz them on their sexual preferences on the basis of a half hour acquaintance.
Best,
Anna
She hit send and took an angry swig of cooling tea.
Online dating could turn the most spangled romantic into a grizzled cynic. Wasn’t the internet supposed to herald a new era of ease and democracy in such matters? Instead it made the league tables, and winners and losers of the game, even more explicit.
Here was its stark reality: seeing that the person who hadn’t replied to your days-old message had logged in mere hours ago. Or noticing that the exciting entrepreneur who told you he was moving to Amsterdam, and thus sadly not free for a date, appeared to be very much still in the UK and available to other women.
