1.
Joanne Tuckett made a circuit of the coffee shop for one last pointless round. If she had failed to spot a man in a red headscarf the first three times, it seemed unlikely he was going to magically appear now. Clearly, her date was either late or he simply wasn't coming.
She sighed to herself and joined the queue. Her life was replete with romantic disasters - her marriage being the most obvious one. On a lifetime scale, being stood up for a lousy blind date hardly registered. After all, the guy hadn't even got as far as seeing her, so she couldn't exactly take it personally -- a sudden attack of cold feet, maybe. Still, there were only so many times that hope could spring eternal. It was a pisser.
She blamed herself. In this day and age, there were better ways to do this. You could exchange pictures and text messages first and maybe have a video call. That way you didn't waste your whole evening and a babysitter with a non-starter. She'd said no to that. She had wanted to actually meet someone and feel that spark. Or not. It didn't have to be love at first sight, but at least attraction at first sight. Otherwise, you spent all your time staring at their photographs and getting to know them online and you could fool yourself into thinking there was something there when there wasn't. And then, when you did finally get round to it, the first date became boringly predictable.
The barista came to take her order and she asked for a latte, but in a paper cup just in case he walked through the door and it turned out she still had an evening ahead of her. As her drink was made, she pulled her phone out of her handbag and sent a message to Rob, her colleague who had arranged the date.
He's not here. WTF?
It was now twenty minutes after the appointed meeting time. True, she'd been ten minutes late herself, but that was a woman's prerogative.
Collecting her drink, she scanned the room again, this time for an empty seat. Every table was taken, mostly with people who had spouses, partners, or groups of friends -- the type of person Joanne was starting to really resent. There was the occasional lone hipster taking up an unnecessary amount of room with their laptops and blocking out the world with their headphones in. No one she wanted to double up with.
Finally, near the back of the shop, she saw an available chair at a table for two. The other occupant was an attractive but nervous-looking woman in a red sari. A plastic cup which had contained some kind of green tea concoction stood nearly empty and so, according to her understanding of coffee shop etiquette, Joanne felt she would be perfectly justified in asking for the other seat.
"Excuse me," she asked. "Is this seat taken?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm waiting for someone," the girl said.
Joanne was about to suggest strongly that maybe she could have the seat until whoever the woman was waiting for turned up but looking at the almost finished drink and the rather dejected way she was talking, she suddenly realized that here was a fellow lost soul also in for a crappy Friday night. She looked her up and down, feeling better and better as she did so. It turned out that even beautiful girls got stood up sometimes as well, not just aging single mothers.
It was a pity. The girl had scrubbed up nicely. She was wearing what Joanne would have described as a modern minimalist sari -- a single colour of not quite burgundy, with minor golden embroidered flowers and slightly more ostentatious around the sleeves and belt. She'd matched it with a large multi-sectioned gold necklace and hanging ball earrings. The size of these adornments could have been crass if they weren't so exquisite. Her long, slightly wavy hair had the air of having been done that very day and was covered with a simple red headscarf...a red headscarf...
Joanne got a sinking feeling in her belly. "This might be a strange question, but are you Bakul by any chance?"
"Yes, I am." The girl went from uncertain to smiling and back to uncertain again all within three words.
"And you're waiting for...?" Joanne pressed.
"Joe. Joseph Brackley. Why? Do you know him?"
She sat down on the chair and sighed. Somehow a cock-up of enormous proportions had occurred. She didn't quite have the full picture yet, but her mind was scanning the jigsaw pieces for bits that looked the same.
"I know of
a
Joseph Brackley. He worked at my company until about a year and a half ago. As far as I know, he currently works in Brazil."
"Oh," said Bakul. "Then why..."
"Your date was set up by Susan Pritchard, right?" Joanne already knew the answer and Bakul's nod only served to confirm this.
"Yeah, see mine was set up by Rob, her husband. He works at the same place as I do. He worked with Joseph as well. I'm Joanne by the way." said Joanne.
Light started to dawn on Bakul's face. "So, Joe for Joseph and Jo for Joanne. Some of the text messages had it without the 'e' but I thought it was just a typo."
She pulled out her phone and scanned her messages. "Yep, all the ones from Susan have an 'e', and a couple that Rob sent don't."
"What I don't understand," said Joanne in summation, "is how it's possible for a married couple to discuss and arrange a whole blind date for their colleagues without using a single-gendered pronoun. I mean Rob asked me three times how I'd feel about dating an Indian
man
."
Bakul laughed. "And Susan said your response was that you were fascinated by other cultures and wanted to learn more about them. Which is why I wore this instead of my more usual getup."
"Thank you," replied Joanne. "I mean you look stunning. It's clear you've spent more time on your appearance than any other person I've ever shared a romantic event with, including my ex-husband on our wedding day."
"You're looking pretty good yourself," Bakul replied. Joanne wasn't so sure. This would have been her first date in far too long and she'd spent a long time looking in the mirror, but most of what it had reflected had been doubts.
Bakul continued, "The way it was sold to me, there were a lot of 'You boths'. You know, we are both divorced, we both have young children, we both looking for a serious relationship with no drama. Maybe they were talking so much about what we had in common they never go around to what
he
is like and what
she
is like. And from my understanding Susan and Rob don't so much discuss things as Susan dictates to Rob what she wants to happen and Rob grunts in agreement."
"Sounds about right. I've always been pretty clear that I'm desperate for anyone even vaguely resembling 'second husband material', but Rob still acted like it was the most embarrassing thing ever for him to try and introduce us."
"It's all starting to make sense. Susan originally said you had two kids and had been divorced for three years, and then later changed it to one girl, ten years old, and divorced five years. I'm guessing the second is you and the first was Joseph?"
