Worth Waiting For

The old ways prove the best in this hopeful short story by Alyson Hilbourne.

Internet dating wasn’t for me – especially as it was beginning to look like I’d been stood up!

“More coffees, I think. So much for being the head chef.”

I watched him go back over to the counter, where a queue of people had built up. He deftly filled the filters with ground coffee and snapped them into place.

I stirred my cappuccino and looked at my phone. It was now 15 minutes after the time we’d agreed to meet.

I was no longer brimming with expectation. The morning had fallen rather flat.

My phone pinged and I snatched it up. I thought it would be Simon but there was a message from Kerry:

How’s the hot date? I’ll come round this evening for a chat.

I texted back.

Look forward to it.

I’d just put the phone down when it pinged again.

So sorry. Got caught up with work. Emergency. Can’t get away. Can we arrange another time? Simon.

I frowned. It was Saturday. We’d arranged it because we both worked during the week.

I knew he was a lawyer, but surely he didn’t have emergencies on a Saturday?

I messaged back, finished my coffee, gave a quick wave to John, who was still battling with the coffee machine, and went to do my shopping.

****

“So, how did it go?” Kerry asked, leaning across the kitchen table as I pushed a mug of tea to her.

“He didn’t turn up. He sent a message saying he had to work or something.”

“Humph.” Kerry made a disapproving noise.

“We’ve arranged to try again next Saturday.” “You’re too nice, Mum.” I frowned and put my head on one side.

“Well, things happen, don’t they?” I said.

I was trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. Having geared myself up to meeting someone new, I felt deflated.

Kerry grimaced.

“Not when you’re trying to make a good first impression with people, they don’t!” she protested.

“Well, anyway, I met John in the café. Remember him? The chef at the King’s Arms? His wife, Fiona, worked behind the bar.”

“Oh, yes. Dark hair. Friendly guy. He used to give Tom an extra scoop of ice-cream and take the tomatoes off my plate when we went with –”

She stopped.

I knew what she meant to say. Dad.

Going to the pub was something we used to do occasionally in the days when Kerry and Tom had a dad at home, before he went off with his secretary and started a new family and a new life.

I knew Kerry still saw him. I didn’t mind, but his leaving meant an end to those pub dinners. I couldn’t afford that sort of luxury on my own with two kids.

“Yes, that’s him. He’s working in a café in town now. Fiona left him, apparently.”

“Oh.” Kerry nodded and finished her tea. “Right, I’m off, Mum. Aiden and I are going to the pictures this evening.

“I’ll see you one evening next week. And let me know how next Saturday goes.”

I smiled and walked her to the door. When I closed it I went into the livingroom for another evening of television by myself.

The following weekend I was in a different café with another cappuccino. I was five minutes late again but there was still no-one who looked like Simon.

This time I’d brought a magazine so I didn’t appear lonely.

I waited and waited. Eventually a messaged pinged on my phone.

So sorry. Caught up again. Simon.

I thinned my lips. It was probably as well Simon didn’t turn up as I might have told him what I thought.

This was everything that worried me about internet dating. It was too easy to let people down.

I messaged Kerry.

Where are you, Mum? I’ll come.

No. I’m fine, I wrote back. However when I got home, Kerry was waiting on the doorstep. She helped carry in the groceries.

As I put my bag down, she took out my phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Deleting him,” she said. “Once is excusable. Twice is not.

“Think about it, you’d spend your whole life waiting for him. There are plenty more fish in the sea.”

She had a point.

“Hey, Mum. You’ve got a new message on the site!” I frowned.

“Have I? I didn’t notice.” Kerry rolled her eyes. “You have to check, Mum.”

“I did. Well, I thought I did. I’m not glued to it quite as much as you are.” She passed it over to me. I frowned.

“John?”

Surprised to find someone I know on here. Lovely to see you last week.

Would you like to meet up? I can’t do Saturdays because of the café, but can do evenings”

“Go on, Mum! He was nice!” Kerry urged.

I thought about it for about two minutes, then replied.

The following weekend I arrived at a pub in town and stood by the door.

My heart was beating fast and I was light-headed. My stomach had been churning and I hadn’t eaten lunch.

I was more nervous meeting someone I knew than I had been meeting someone who I didn’t know at all. It was ridiculous. I was like a teenager.

I’d changed three times, too, having found I’d put on the same dress I’d worn to meet Simon the first time.

Then I couldn’t find anywhere to park so I had to go the supermarket car park and dash through town to make up lost time.

I put a hand on the door to push it open and almost turned away, but before I could go it was yanked back from inside and I had no option but to go in.

I was relieved to see John at the bar waiting for me.

“I was surprised to find you on the dating app,” he said, after he’d got us a round of drinks and we’d found a table.

I shrugged.

“Think about it. You’d spend your whole life waiting for him”

“Well,” I said. “You know Tony went off when the children were young. I spent the next ten years bringing them up alone.

“Kerry has moved out now and Tom is at university so I thought I should have some ‘me time’ and do things that I wanted to.

“Then I realised I didn’t have anyone to do them with. Kerry persuaded me to try the app –”

I ground to a halt, realising that I was monopolising the conversation.

“It seems like a good idea to me,” John said with a smile. “Otherwise I’d never have known you were looking . . .”

We looked at each other and grinned.

“So –” I began.

“How –” John said.

“After you!”

“No, you first!”

We were being very polite.

“I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this, either,” John said with a small grimace.

“I’ve spent most of my life frying fish and chips in the evenings and now I spend my time with teenagers teaching the the finer points of a coffee machine.

“I’ve forgotten how to make conversation with real adults.”

I smiled.

“Well, it seems we are both as useless as each other!”