Match Me If You Can Read online

  Sarah stared sadly at the remains of the original Victorian wall, its lathes shattered and its plaster crumbling. Nate might be right, but it’d be nice to keep what they could intact. Especially the walls they didn’t plan to move.

  ‘If it’s all the same, I’ll come with you downstairs, just to be sure you’ve got everything you need.’

  It took more than two hours before Sarah was moderately sure that Nate and the team were working to the correct plans and she could get back to her work.

  Feet tucked again under the blanket, she picked up her red pencil and began sketching in the groom’s scarf.

  Red, white, red, white.

  She got it just right and any Liverpool fan would instantly recognise it. She’d toyed with the idea of a shirt too but the scarf seemed enough.

  Harry should go for it. Even Maria-Therese, who always hated Sarah’s ideas, would have to recognise the brilliance of this one. They could do them for all the major clubs. Given that weddings did get planned around major FA Cup matches, there had to be a market.

  As she tidied up the sketch, memories washed over her. All of them at Anfield together. Her mum shouting at the top of her lungs for her boys on the pitch. You could take the girl out of Liverpool but you’d never take Liverpool out of the girl.

  Sarah’s grandparents were appalled that her mum brought them to the stadium.

  ‘They’re just children!’ her gran would say.

  ‘Nobody’s going to hurt a child.’

  Her mum was right, and when Robin and Sarah got older and they brought Sissy along, people seemed extra courteous. She was the music that soothed the savage breast.

  It didn’t stop them cursing though. Sarah had learned her most colourful swear words from the fans of Liverpool FC.

  Her mum so wanted to instil her passion in her children that Sarah had pretended an interest in football, but she was really more excited to be together with her family.

  She was always buoyed up by the atmosphere though, especially when they started singing. There was something about that song … well, none of us wants to walk alone, right?

  It had been Robin’s idea to play it at their mum’s funeral. Sarah knew she’d have loved that, but given how emotional it made Sarah when her mum was alive, she also knew what a blubbering mess she’d be when it reminded her that she wasn’t.

  She was right.

  Oh Mum, she thought, as tears slipped down her cheeks. It was just so unfair. Life was so unfair sometimes. And the worst part was that there was no court of appeals.

  Sarah felt strangely calm later when she spotted Sebastian waiting for her outside the Tube station. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. They’d only dated for a few months and it was never serious. It had been nice having someone pay her attention though. She did miss that.

  He hadn’t changed – same tall, slender frame and dark good looks. Her gran would have wondered suspiciously if he wasn’t ‘a bit foreign’. But he was as English as they were.

  ‘Hey, Sarah, it’s great to see you!’ He kissed her firmly on the cheek and she found herself grinning. ‘Did you have a nice Christmas?’

  An uncomfortable look passed over his face as, she realised, he probably remembered about her mum. She was used to that.

  ‘It was really nice, thanks. Sissy and Robin spent a few days with me at the house. Yours was good?’

  A thick wedge of hair fell into his eyes when he nodded. ‘I went to St Anton. The snow was okay but the après ski was excellent.’

  ‘I bet it was fun,’ she said, mentally replacing après ski with sex. ‘So, thanks for meeting me. Sorry for sounding so mysterious in my texts.’

  ‘I love a mysterious woman.’

  Not quite true. He loved all women.

  When they’d found a bar that wasn’t too full and got their drinks, he said, ‘Actually I think I know why you got in touch.’

  She doubted that.

  ‘It’s about Robin’s birthday, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it’s not about his birthday. It’s more personal than that.’

  Concern flitted over Sebastian’s expression. ‘Sarah, are you all right? Is it … something about us?’

  ‘That came out wrong! I’m fine, absolutely fine. And it’s not about you and me, don’t worry.’

  Relief flooded his smile. ‘For a second I was afraid you were going to tell me I’m a father.’

  ‘Seb, we went out five years ago.’

  ‘Paranoid, sorry!’

  So he was still as commitment-shy as ever. She hadn’t even been able to get definite weekend plans out of him when they were seeing each other. He treated short-haul holidays with suspicion and wouldn’t get a phone contract in case he found a better offer. That would be top of her list of improvements if he agreed to join RecycLove.

  ‘You remember my housemate, Catherine?’ she asked. ‘You’ve never met but I’ve talked about her, I’m sure.’

  Their friends hadn’t mixed. Being best mates with Robin, he knew their mum, of course, and Sissy, but they had an unwritten rule that he didn’t go to family events once they got together. He was at their mum’s funeral though. That was the last time she’d seen him.

  ‘She runs an online dating website and, well, I’m thinking of joining.’

  ‘That’s great, Sarah, you definitely should.’ He downed his drink. ‘You need to get back out there.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you talked to Robin about me?’

  ‘Nah, don’t worry! Well, he may have mentioned you over the years. That’s normal, right? He is your brother and we are mates.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  Sebastian pulled at his collar. ‘He just mentioned that you haven’t been as social since, since …’

  ‘Since Mum died. I know. But I’m trying to change that. There’s just one problem with the website. I need an ex to join with me.’

  ‘Ah, you mean RecycLove then. I didn’t know your housemate runs that. Impressive.’

  ‘You’ve heard of it?’

  He laughed. ‘Sarah, I know where all the single ladies are.’

  She’d need to talk to him about the cheese factor too. ‘Then you know the deal. We sign up, give each other a romantic assessment and then we can use the website. Would you think about doing it?’

  He seemed to consider the proposition. ‘Why not? As long as you don’t say anything bad about me, like I have a small penis or something.’

  She wasn’t about to rise to that ego-stroking bait. ‘Nobody else sees the assessment, just us. They’ll only see the endorsement, and I promise that will be good.’

  ‘Then let’s do it,’ he said.

  ‘That’s ace, thank you!’ Sarah’s breath hitched in her chest. She was really going to do this.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Catherine

  When Richard had said he was thinking of selling his half of the business to his fiancée, what he meant was that he was definitely selling his half of the business to his fiancée, and he already had the drying ink on the contract to prove it.

  Catherine could have resisted signing the papers, but there was really no point. She had no legal basis for her objection, and whining about fairness wouldn’t work with her ex-husband. So they agreed a valuation and the deal was done.

  Then Magda appeared at the office, as keen as a new intern.

  Except that she wasn’t an intern, Catherine thought as she led the woman upstairs. She was a fully fledged partner. One who didn’t plan to be silent.

  Catherine felt sick at the idea.

  ‘I love how you have done the office,’ Magda said as she unwrapped herself from her long camel-coloured cashmere coat. Underneath she wore trousers and a fine-knit jumper in the same tone (also cashmere, Catherine was betting). Her chunky, expensive-looking gold jewellery sparkled in the recessed lighting. ‘My mother has a similar style in her flat in Budapest. It’s quite classical.’

  Catherine knew she meant ‘old’. ‘Mmm hmm. Can I ge
t you a drink?’

  ‘Have you got any herbal tea? I’m not having caffeine.’

  That figured. She was probably on some kind of Gwyneth-approved macrobiotic diet. ‘Why don’t you come this way to the conference room? I’ll get your tea.’

  ‘Oh, there is no need for such formality, Kate! I am happy to sit at an empty desk.’

  ‘It’s Catherine, actually. I go by Catherine.’

  ‘But Richard calls you Kate.’

  ‘I prefer Catherine, thanks. I’ll just get that tea for you.’

  She felt like she was on her back foot with Magda. Richard had said only that she wanted to come to the office today. Typical of him to be useless when it came to sharing information.

  So what, exactly, do you want here? she wondered when she set her mug on a coaster. Not trusting her voice to ask without bitterness, she just held Magda’s gaze.

  Sure enough, Magda squirmed. ‘I’m really very interested in the business,’ she said.

  ‘RecycLove?’

  ‘And Love Match.’

  ‘Well I can run you through how it all works.’

  ‘I am dying to start.’ She withdrew a green frog-covered notebook from her bag, but Catherine couldn’t help noticing that she seemed a lot more serious than she did around Richard. Was she just putting on the cuddly blonde act for her fiancé?

  ‘It’s very simple really,’ Catherine said. ‘Love Match is for clients who want a bespoke service, where we choose the most appropriate dates from our database.’

  ‘Where do you get the dates’ details?’

  ‘They’re also clients. We match up clients with each other.’

  ‘But how do you know you will have the appropriate clients to match?’

  ‘Because we vet them before they’re accepted. If we don’t think we’ll have suitable matches, we won’t sign them up.’

  ‘But how do you know who will be suitable before they meet?’

  ‘Because I’ve been a relationship consultant for more than a dozen years, Magda.’

  ‘But why does experience of past clients mean your current clients want the same thing?’

  Catherine wanted to scream. It was worse than talking to a child. But she couldn’t just send Magda to her room.

  After nearly an hour of fielding hostile questions, Catherine found herself flagging. And she needed to prepare for her next meeting. ‘Well, I think you’ve got a good overview of how we operate. As I said, everything relies on strong communication between us and the client and between the consultants. Now, that’s probably enough to get your head round for one day. I do have a meeting I’ll need to prepare for, so …’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course, I have taken up so much of your time!’ Magda snapped shut her notebook. ‘Should I go talk to the other consultants?’

  ‘No! I mean you don’t want to be overwhelmed on your visit, do you?’

  ‘No, you are right. So if you can just show me to Richard’s office, I’ll get out of your way and let you get ready for your meeting.’

  Catherine stared at the girl.

  ‘Richard’s office?’ Magda prompted. ‘Where I will be working?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t … it’s just that Richard didn’t really spend time here day-to-day. He didn’t have an office.’

  Where she’d be working?!

  ‘I’m sure there’s a little corner for me somewhere,’ Magda said. ‘In the meantime, I noticed that there is a table in your office. I can just put myself there until a desk is sorted out. I’m sure it will not take long.’

  ‘Fine. There’s a free desk on the other side,’ Catherine said. ‘Let’s walk over and I’ll set you up there.’

  Magda’s smile was triumphant.

  This was a woman used to getting her own way, and she hadn’t just handed over a cheque to her fiancé to be generous. She was buying half a going concern.

  Catherine now saw that she planned to make it her concern.

  Paul arrived at the stroke of eleven for their meeting, going straight in for air-kisses when they met at the door. Points for promptness, Catherine thought, though she wasn’t in the habit of kissing her clients. She should have stuck her hand out to ward him off, but they’d cheek-kissed in their first meeting and now she seemed to be stuck with the greeting.

  ‘I’m ready for my makeover,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his long legs in front of him. Catherine noticed that his socks were stripy red and white. ‘Will my office even recognise me when you’re done?’

  ‘You don’t date your colleagues, do you?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t say date …’ He shrugged.

  Catherine shook her head. ‘It isn’t clever to fish off the company pier.’

  ‘Maybe not, but we’ve all done it. You must have too.’

  Catherine felt a jolt. ‘We’re not here to discuss my personal life.’

  ‘That sounds like a yes.’

  It was a big, fat yes. And she definitely wasn’t going to discuss it with her client. ‘I think we should talk about where you want to improve.’

  He seemed surprised at the question.

  Was it arrogance? Catherine began to feel annoyed. There was only so much she could do for people who didn’t want to help themselves. Georgina was a perfect case in point. She may have agreed to allow a bit of stubble into her life but she wasn’t budging on much else. That reminded Catherine, she needed to line up a few more dates for her picky client. She’d need to carve out some time in the afternoon to find them.

  ‘You’ll probably say I need a complete overhaul,’ Paul finally said. ‘So how do you plan to assess me? Have you got a test or something?’

  She shook her head. That wasn’t how it worked on the Love Match side. ‘I can get a pretty good sense about you just by talking together, but if you’ve got any specific areas that you’d like to improve, we can start there. For example, you mentioned wine. We could work together on improving your skills.’

  ‘Sure, Catherine, we could get through a few bottles together.’

  ‘I didn’t mean … I meant that I could give you some pointers on how to order from the wine list, food pairing and that sort of thing. It’s a good place to start.’

  ‘Done. What else?’

  ‘It would be good to know about any shortcomings you feel you have. As a date.’

  She left the question hanging between them.

  ‘That’s probably something my dates would have more to say about. I’ve not had any complaints.’

  She raised her eyebrow, knowing how well silence worked to loosen a client’s tongue.

  ‘Well, nothing beyond the norm anyway,’ he continued. ‘There’ve been the usual grumbles from women that I’m not that into, but what do you expect?’

  ‘And how do you let them know you’re not into them?’

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘It depends on whether we’ve slept together. I tell them straight out if we have. If not, then I think silence speaks a thousand words.’

  Not really, she thought. Silence generally just speaks two words when it comes from a date. F*** off. So far, so typical.

  ‘What about the women that you do like? Do they have any complaints?’

  He shrugged. ‘Search me.’

  She took a deep breath and tried again. ‘Paul, I can only offer generic advice when I don’t know what you’re like socially. Maybe you could describe exactly what you do on a date.’

  But he shook his head. ‘Nah, mate, that won’t work. I’d only give you my interpretation. You’d need to see for yourself.’

  ‘Well I can hardly follow you around taking notes.’ She hoped he wasn’t suggesting any secret filming.

  ‘Then come out to dinner with me. For research purposes. That way you can give me an honest assessment about where I’m going wrong.’

  ‘Well first of all, you’re a client so I couldn’t go on a date with you and—’

  ‘First of all,’ he said
, raising his finger and clearly mocking her. ‘I’m not asking you on a date. If you’re serious about helping me, then you said yourself that you need to see where I’m going wrong.’

  She felt herself blush. Of course he wasn’t asking her on a date. She reached for her Filofax and started flipping through the days.

  Paul sat forward. ‘I didn’t know they still made those. Why don’t you just use Outlook?’

  ‘I don’t trust online diaries,’ she said. Plus she liked seeing her appointments in her own handwriting, and sticking little notes and press cuttings between the pages. ‘I could meet for an early dinner two weeks from tomorrow?’

  He checked his phone. ‘It’s a date, then. But not a date, of course.’

  She ignored him and rose to signal the end of the meeting. He followed her to the office door. This time she stuck out her hand before he could go for the cheek-kiss.

  Magda went straight for Catherine as soon as the door closed behind Paul. ‘Who was that?’

  ‘He’s one of our Love Match clients, Paul.’

  ‘He doesn’t look like he needs any help finding love matches.’

  ‘Well that’s the thing about this business; it’s not all about appearances,’ she snapped. ‘People come to us because they need our help. Now, I know you want to be useful.’ She tried not to sound like she was speaking to a toddler about making cookies. ‘But we’re really very busy here. And I’m sure you’re very busy too with the wedding plans.’

  Magda’s smile disappeared.

  ‘Kate,’ she said. ‘You seem to be under the wrong impression. I have not come in today to pay you a friendly visit or to get your advice about reception venues. I came to check on my new investment. Whether you like it or not I own half the company and, what’s more, I will be involved. At least for the next six months.’

  ‘Then what happens? Does your student visa run out?’

  She smiled. ‘Then I will have Richard’s baby. I am pregnant.’

  Catherine felt her breath leave her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rachel