He got up to greet me and it was slightly awkward as we didn’t know whether to shake hands or kiss each other.
‘Hello, Nina, how are you?’ he asked, missing my cheek and kissing my ear.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
His height at over six foot had been greatly exaggerated. He was slightly smaller than me and had a gap in between his front teeth, which I was sure that my mother would say was symbolic of good fortune. He’d also overdone it with the gel in his hair and it made it look greasy.
‘You’re very tall,’ he commented.
I didn’t know what to say to that so I smiled.
‘I’m always nervous about doing this,’ he said.
And then he went on at great lengths about how he felt. I caught the first part of it which was that he had now got a system in place when meeting the prospective date but then after that I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying, and I knew it wasn’t right but I was comparing him to Jean. Jean’s eyes sparkled, Raj’s didn’t. Raj’s lips were much thinner; Ki said she never trusted a man with thin lips. It was the occasional grunting laugh that brought me back to the conversation.
‘So how about you?’ he asked.
How about me what? I had missed that first part of the conversation. ‘Well, as you know, I’m a lawyer, as you know …’
‘You’re funny, Nina. I meant how many times have you done this?’
‘Done what?’
‘Meeting, on the arranged system?’
‘Ohh, this?’ I wanted to tell him about all the weirdos I had to see before meeting Jean, and about Jean, but I didn’t as I knew if word got back to the honchos who were responsible for matching up the CVs, mine would be marked with a red pen and my mother’s reputation tarnished forever. ‘A few,’ I replied.
‘You’re very beautiful, Nina, I would have thought you would have been snapped up just like that,’ he clicked his fingers.
There it was; cheesy line number one. Only one person in the world had ever made me feel truly beautiful on the inside and out; what did he know? Raj sensed my irritation. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong … nerves ….’
Feeling guilty at taking my frustration out on Raj, I replied, ‘No, it’s OK. Thank you.’
It transpired that he really had no need to be nervous as he had been on about twenty dates, had got as far as two engagements, but for one reason or another, neither of them worked out. His perseverance was commendable.
‘Third time lucky,’ I said like a fool.
‘Indeed,’ he replied, smiling.
We talked about each other’s jobs, families and interests, and on paper the honchos seemed to have done their job well – he was a suitable match in the eyes of my parents at least. Raj then asked if I wanted to see the Matisse exhibition. I didn’t want to say that I had visited it all week.
‘I would love to. Do you like Matisse?’ I asked, surprised.
He nodded.
As he got up I was distracted by the T-shirt underneath his blue jumper. It was on inside out so that the label was showing. It was probably nerves, haste or just clumsiness, but I found it almost endearing. I was definitely warming towards him, almost despite myself.
‘“Creativity takes courage,”’ Raj said as we entered the room.
‘How did you know he said that?’ I replied, astounded. Was this a sign? No signs all year and then a bloody shower of them.
He laughed and this time I didn’t hear the grunting sound. ‘There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Nina,’ he said confidently.
‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Ask as many as you like,’ he replied.
‘If you went to a casino, would you put all your money on one number?’
‘I wouldn’t go to a casino.’
‘But if you had to, what would you do?’
‘I would cover all eventualities – put as many chips on as many numbers – that way you can’t lose.’
We looked at the paintings together and his favourite was The Red Studio, the same as mine. To my surprise I found I could have spent much more time with him, but I was aware that Jean Michel would be waiting for me and that I was already running late.
‘Is there somewhere you have to be, Nina?’ he asked, spotting me checking my watch.
‘Yes, I’m really sorry. But I’m sure we’ll meet again.’
‘Look, Nina, I’ve met lots of people and I know that I like you and I’d really like to see you again. Tomorrow?’ he asked, pinning me down with a date.
I took a moment to think about it: I did want someone who was calm, who knew what they wanted, someone who was practical yet could understand me on some level. Above all, someone who was the total opposite of Jean. And how did he know that about Matisse?
‘Is it OK if I call you and let you know this evening?’
‘You can call me whenever you like,’ he replied.
I had said I’d meet Jean at seven but it was seven-thirty when I got to his apartment building. The concierge opened the door for me and smiled. I took the lift up and rang the buzzer.
Jean answered the door. He looked tired and just for one fleeting moment I wanted to forgive him and tell him that I had really, really missed him.
‘I thought you weren’t coming. I’m so happy to see you, Nina.’
Be strong, I kept telling myself.
‘Come in, cherie, come in,’ he said, coming to kiss me. ‘Cherie’ sounded stupid. I turned away so he caught part of my ear.
The lights were dimmed, candles were lit and he had made dinner.
‘Why didn’t you use your key?’ he asked.
‘Well, I don’t know, let me think … because I might find someone else here?’
‘Nina, I’m sorry, I was drunk. We got a deal with …’
I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. ‘Drunk …? Drunk …?’ If he had said he was angry with me and wanted to hurt me, maybe then I could listen, but drunk?
His eyes searched mine for something he could tell me that would make it better but they couldn’t find anything. He reached out his hand to touch me.
I wanted to tell him about my week, giving up work, finding a studio, but didn’t know where to begin and, besides, I felt I couldn’t pour my heart out to
