Gaby deadpanned.
Nadia rolled her eyes good-naturedly again, afraid to give herself away.
‘Emma says you might write an advert in response.’
‘I’m toying with it, yes. If I decide the advert is really meant for me. Which … I’m not sure. I half want it to be. And I half think I’m insane for giving this more than two seconds’ thought.’
‘Do you have any idea who he could be? If it is for you? Is there a cute man on your train every day?’
Nadia looked at her friend. ‘This is London! There are hundreds of cute men, everywhere, all the time. And then they open their mouths and become 200 per cent less cute because … men.’
‘Ever the optimist, I see.’
‘I’m just being realistic.’
‘Never met a woman protecting her heart who didn’t claim the same,’ said Gaby, smirking.
Nadia said nothing, knowing full well that Gaby was right. She found herself doing that a lot: making sweeping statements that damned men to their lowest denominator, acting as if she didn’t need or want one. She was protecting herself, she supposed, at least out loud. Of course, her friend could see right through that. Because Nadia was, in the same breath as saying all men were pigs, hoping that this one, the Train Guy, wasn’t. Or, at the very least, that one guy, somewhere out there, wasn’t. All morning she’d been having little fantasies about the advert being for her, and seeing him on the train, and falling in lust and love somewhere on the Northern line between home and work. She wanted that for herself. She wanted it for herself so hungrily that it scared her a bit, truth be told.
The lift arrived at Gaby’s floor, and like they did whenever they rode the lift together, Nadia stepped off with her to finish the conversation.
‘There is this one thing, though,’ Nadia said. Gaby turned and looked at her, willing her to go on. ‘Well. The thing my brain can’t understand is that if a guy sees me on the train every morning, why wouldn’t he just say hello?’
Becky from admin walked by on her way to the photocopier, and Nadia interrupted herself to throw up a small wave and say, ‘Hey, Becky!’
‘Nice shoes!’ Becky said, as way of reply, disappearing around a corner.
Nadia continued: ‘Why concoct some elaborate plot that involves a newspaper and relying on me – or, whoever, because it might not be me, like we’ve established – actually seeing it?’
‘It’s fun!’ Gaby said. ‘Cute!’ She thought about it some more and then added, ‘Plus, if some rando came up to you on your commute, would you honestly even give him the time of day?’
Nadia smiled. ‘No. I’d think he was a creep.’
‘Me too.’
‘Urgh!’ Nadia exhaled. ‘I’m just trying to manage my romantic expectations, you know? I don’t even know if I could stand another first date …’
Nadia made a noise that was like a gag of repulsion, summing up the many emotions of a serial dater in as succinct a way as any. But, even as she did that, her heart skipped a little beat. When a first date went right, it was the most magical, hopeful feeling in the world. A feeling of the gods smiling on her, of recognizing herself in somebody else. She once heard that love shouldn’t be called ‘falling’, because the best love roots you, and makes you grow upwards, taller and stronger. She’d seen that happen with her mum and step-dad, after her biological father had left. Her old colleague and friend Naomi and Naomi’s husband Callum embodied it. Her direct boss in her first job, Katherine, was the most charismatic, well-adjusted woman Nadia had ever had the honour of being mentored by, and Katherine often said she had got to be where she was at work because of the team she was part of at home. All of them said they knew early on that they’d met the person they wanted to spend their lives with, and committed, together, to making it work. Tim had said that about Deena, too.
‘No – you couldn’t stand another bad first date,’ said Gaby. ‘But what if this was the last first date you ever had, because it was so good?’
Nadia was grateful that Gaby was playing to her more romantic inclinations, because she was enjoying imagining what would happen if she met the love of her life through a newspaper ad. How they’d laugh about it, and be forever united in their appreciation of big gestures and taking chances. But Nadia was suddenly suspicious too: Gaby was usually sceptical and pithy about love, priding herself on dating man after man but not needing any of them. It wasn’t like her to coax anyone into believing fairy tales were real.
‘What’s made you such a romantic all of a sudden?’ Nadia asked, eyes narrowed. ‘You’re supposed to be my cynical friend.’
Gaby shrugged, non-committal. ‘What are you working on today?’ she said, by way of reply.
‘Now who’s changing the subject!’
‘Don’t get smart with me, Fielding.’
Nadia made a mental note to follow up with Gaby later on her sudden softening. Something was different about her, now she thought about it. Nadia was a tart for her work, though, and so was seduced by her own vanity into talking about it.
‘It’s crunch time on the prototypes for the fulfilment centres soon. That newspaper exposé really damaged the stock price and John wants actual humans out of the role as soon as possible to get the whole thing boxed off as an HR issue. Which sucks for the thousands of people who don’t know they’re going to be unemployed by Christmas …’
‘Oh, that’s hard. That’s really hard,’ Gaby said.
‘I feel bad, yeah. I’m building robots to replace humans, and … well. It’s so conflicting, you know?’
The lift pinged back open, and seeing that it was going up, Nadia stepped in.
‘To be continued?’ said Gaby.
‘To be continued,’ said Nadia. ‘I’d like to maybe brainstorm ideas about making sure everyone gets jobs elsewhere? I’d like to help.’
‘Sure!’ Gaby said, adding: ‘Maybe over lunch this week? Wednesday? I’ve got a lunch meeting tomorrow. We’ve not been across to Borough in ages. And we’re not done talking about this missed connection.’
‘Stop talking to Emma about my love life!’
Nadia could hear Gaby giggling even as the lift went up.
Daniel
‘You’ve been infatuated with her for months, mate. Today is a big day!’
Lorenzo had called him at work, despite being asked not to. But Lorenzo hated his job and got bored easily and liked winding up his flatmate and also feigning busyness at his own desk, at a publishing house north of the river. Plus, he was charming enough to persuade the receptionist, Percy, to connect the call, even though Daniel had given Percy numerous and explicit instructions not
