Page 12 of Wish You Were Here
‘Did Abigail mention I was just out of a long-term relationship?’
‘She did. Although she didn’t give details. It’s fine if you don’t want to get into it. Onwards and upwards, right?’ I say, trying to be uplifting and inspirational, but I instantly see fromthe expression on her face that my attempt to inspire has fallen short. The first crack of the evening?
‘This is my first date since the breakup.’
‘Oh, right, shit. How long has it been?’
‘Two months.’
‘That isn’t long. How are you doing?’
‘Okay, I think. I don’t know. It’s strange, isn't it? I thought Callum and I were going to be together forever, get married, have children, the whole nine yards, and then one day, completely out of the blue, he says he doesn’t love me anymore and that’s it.’
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘You don’t need to apologise, Ben,’ says Cress, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s ready for this. Two months isn’t that long to get over a serious relationship. It seems like maybe she isn’t, and then to clarify exactly where she is, she starts crying.
‘I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t think I’d be like this, and that I was ready to get out there again because everyone says, you need to get back on the horse Cress, move on Cress and forget about Callum, Cress, but it isn’t that easy, is it? You are lovely, Ben, and maybe one day, you and I could be perfect for each other, but clearly I’m not ready for this yet because I am crying in the middle of the pub, and I am sorry and feel like an absolute idiot.’ She stops speaking and wipes the tears from her now flushed cheeks with the sleeve of her soft green cardigan.
‘I’m sorry, Cress, and don’t worry about feeling like an idiot, I—’
‘I just don’t understand why he would just leave like that, do you? Mum thinks he’s had some sort of mental breakdown, his job is very demanding and his parents, well if you met his mother you’d understand, lives on her nerves, and I heard from friends that he’s been drinking too much, so maybe hejust snapped. What do you think, Ben? Do you think he just snapped?’
‘It sounds like it, and we’ve only just met, but you seem like a real catch, and so obviously something has happened. Maybe a quarter-life crisis?’
‘Maybe,’ says Cress, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks; her eyes are red and puffy, and she smiles a terrifically sad smile. ‘Thank you for being so understanding.’
‘For what it’s worth, I think Callum has made a huge mistake, and I guarantee that whenever he gets over whatever it is he’s going through, he will regret it.’
‘You think so?’ says Cress eagerly. ‘You think he’ll come back to me?’
It’s at this point I realise Cressida is definitely still madly in love with Callum and would take him back in a heartbeat. Callum has no idea how lucky he is, the stupid bastard.
‘I’m not sure, Cress, but you know, maybe it’s best you move on. Find someone better.’
‘Better than Callum? I don’t think I could find someone better than Callum. He was perfect, we were perfect, and … I think I need to use the toilet, and I’d understand if you were gone when I got back,’ says Cressida, sobbing even harder, which seems to mirror the rain outside.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I say, trying to be supportive, but it clearly doesn’t help because she walks off, an absolute fucking mess.
Cressida heads to the toilet, and I sit looking out at the rain hitting against the window, and then at the table next to us where a couple are holding hands, their eyes locked on each other, clearly in love, and then he leans across and kisses her. Love is blossoming at that table, but definitely not at mine. My first attempt at finding a girlfriend post-Saffy and she ends up crying her eyes out. It’s not just a failure, but a complete andutter disaster. I’m not blaming Abigail or annoyed at Cressida because clearly she is not over Callum, but it makes me realise just how difficult it is going to be to find love in London.
The population of Greater London is almost ten million people. If we assume half of those are women, and then we minus everyone under twenty-four because that’s my lower age limit and then over thirty-five because that’s my upper limit, we are looking at approximately half a million eligible women in London. But then if you take away the women who are dating or married, and say it’s half, then we are looking at a quarter of a million. Of those women, you can immediately get rid of half because they’re not even looking to date or interested in someone like me. You can get rid of another half because they are gay, pansexual or asexual, and another half who don’t believe in monogamy or marriage, so that leaves thirty thousand women. Of those, at least half will be physically repulsed by me and another half will only go out with men who exercise regularly. Another half won’t go near me for religious reasons, another half will be into star signs, and I can’t go out with someone who believes our fate is decided by our birth month, and so that leaves less than two thousand women. That isn’t too bad, right? Wrong. Of those women, half will live too far away, even in London. Of those at least half will have a really annoying habit, or a strange hobby like collecting dolls, another half will work in jobs where we will never have time for each other, and another half will support a football team and they will only date men who support that team. This leaves about a hundred women in Greater London I can date. Of those hundred, I’ve already met or dated about forty of them and decided they weren’t for me, and another half will be really into dance music or heavy metal, and I can’t stand either. Another half will believe the Earth is flat, and another half will have strong political views that will make our relationship insufferable. This leaves ten women inLondon I can date. Of course, Cressida might have been one of the ten, and so now it is nine.
After about fifteen minutes, when Cressida still hasn’t returned from the toilets, I start to get worried. Should I go in after her? I am trying to decide what to do when my phone buzzes with a text. I look down, and it’s from Cressida.
Sorry, Ben. I can’t do this. I have left. Thank you and sorry again. I hope you find what you are looking for. Cress x
This is perfect. My first actual date in a very long time, and she ends up bursting into tears and then running away. Nothing quite says, YOU WILL DIE ALONE, like failing badly on a date with someone handpicked by one of your best friends.
As I make my way back towards Clapham, I ring Abigail.
‘How did it go? Isn’t Cress the best?’ says Abigail excitedly.
‘She spent half of the date crying about her ex-boyfriend, and then went to the toilets and didn’t come back.’
‘Oh, shit. Sorry, Ben.’
‘It’s okay. To be fair, I could see why you set us up. She was beautiful, nice, and I’m sure once she is over Callum, she will be a great catch for someone. Unfortunately, that someone just isn’t me.’
