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Ruby sat in the cafe with her best friend Mandy; they were sheltering from a sudden downpour. The window they sat next to was steamed up and they were giving Ruby’s mobile phone their full attention. Ruby had recently decided to dip her toe into the world of online dating, her marriage having floundered a few years previously. She had passed through the expected phases of rage, then grief. She now felt fragile, but hopeful for a brighter future. At 60, she felt too young to give up on male company, and so, egged on by her friend, she had loaded her profile on to an age-appropriate dating app.

Mandy’s face had a look of horrified fascination as she viewed the profiles of potential partners.

‘Look at this one!’ she honked. ‘Did no one advise him not to take a selfie of his nasal hair?’ Mandy continued scrolling in rapid dismissal of the selection of suitors on offer, adding, ‘Most of these men have no hair on their heads, but too much hair everywhere else. And are there any that aren’t overweight?’

Ruby couldn’t help but feel that her friend was vicariously receiving a thrill from the whole process. She pictured Mandy’s husband who, lovely though he was, would fit quite happily among the gallery of guys on the phone in her hand. She decided to keep quiet on that point, realising that one of the advantages of being 60 is that one has learned discretion.

‘Well,’ she said instead, ‘we can’t expect the same qualities in these middle-aged men as in the boys we used to date when we were in our teens. These men have other qualities; they are wiser and, hopefully, kinder. Luxuriant hair and slim, muscular bodies go with youth.’

As she stirred her coffee, Ruby looked troubled. ‘I have to be realistic. My hair is thinner and my waistline thicker than when I was last in the dating game. To be honest, I feel very under confident about the whole process. It’s going to be hard to start a completely new relationship at my age.’

‘Yes, those were the days,’ mused Mandy, with a dreamy look in her eyes, her mind clearly still picturing their teenage years. ‘I remember those boys. Especially your first boyfriend, Sam. He was gorgeous!’

Ruby gripped Mandy’s wrist. ‘Sam!’ she spluttered out a mouthful of coffee. ‘I meant to tell you. I think he’s dead.’

Seeing her friend’s astonishment, Ruby explained that she had read a death notice in the local paper just the day before.

‘I know Sam Webster isn’t an unusual name, but this man would be the correct age and was obviously still local.

I had seen him around a few times recently and heard through the grapevine that he was single again,’ she continued,

‘and I was so sad and shocked to read that. It reminded me of how much in love I was with him at 16. First love is powerful. How could it last, though, when we were both still at school?’

Mandy and Ruby reminisced about old boyfriends while finishing their drinks, then decided they should probably head back out to their respective errands. Ruby rubbed at the steamy window with her red napkin to check whether it was still raining. A face loomed towards them from outside.

Ruby screamed and jumped up. ‘It’s Sam Webster!’ she squeaked. ‘At the window!’

Mandy yelped and dropped her coffee spoon.

The cafe door clattered and Sam Webster approached their table, smiling broadly. ‘Hi, Ruby,’ he said. ‘Were you waving at me? I was hoping to bump into you.’

‘We thought you were dead!’ stammered Mandy.

‘But we’re so glad you’re not,’ added Ruby.

‘Oh, that,’ laughed Sam. ‘Lots of people have contacted me on social media to check that I’m okay because some guy with my name has died, poor chap. As you can see, I’m very much alive.’

‘And you have hair,’ replied Ruby, blushing as she realised how odd she sounded.

‘Could I buy you another coffee?’ Sam asked the friends, looking at their empty mugs. ‘It’s still raining out there.’

‘Best I get going and leave you to it,’ replied Mandy, retrieving her umbrella from the window ledge. ‘I’ll call you later,’ she said, discretely winking at Ruby.

Later that evening, with a glass of gin and tonic by her side and mobile phone in her hand, Mandy settled in her comfy chair, anticipating some top-quality gossip with her best mate. ‘Soooo?’ she teased her friend.

‘Okay. Yes!’ laughed Ruby. ‘I’m going on a date with Sam Webster on Saturday. The spark is still there. He still looks good – great for his age, doesn’t he, or am I biased?’ she gushed.

‘For someone who has recently passed away, he looks fantastic!’ Mandy managed to splutter before they both dissolved in hysterical laughter.