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I said. ‘I think I did, anyway – it’s all a bit hazy. I don’t want to fall in love. Love hurts, cheats and fails. It leads to no good. I just wouldn’t mind a few dates, here and there, that’s all. Though I really don’t know where I’m going to find any. And please don’t say online dating again,’ I added, quickly. ‘No way am I doing that! Don’t even think about it!’

      ‘Okay,’ said Sam, stirring the teas before lifting out the squashed tea bags and lobbing them in the bin. ‘No online dating. But I think you should try and date as many men as you can this week. Starting tonight.’

      ‘Tonight. Right. A Monday night. What do you want me to do, just go and grab someone off the street? See if Bob Sullivan’s free?’ Bob had been single for years – who would have him, with that nose? ‘I really don’t fancy spending the evening listening to him coughing over a tin of Fisherman’s Friends.’

      ‘No! Not Bob, and not someone off the street.’ She paused, sucked the end of her spoon, then paused again. ‘Speed dating.’

      ‘Speed dating!’

      ‘Yep.’

      ‘Do they still do that? Wasn’t that a noughties thing?’

      ‘Well, yeah, it was. But they still do it. It’s evolved.’

      ‘Into what? You now go round the tables on a Segway?’ I sighed. ‘I can’t imagine anything worse, Sam. A bunch of unattractive singles moving from table to table like a sad carousel.’ I attempted a sip of the green tea then put it down on the side again. ‘Isn’t it for losers who’ve looked for love in all the right places and come up with nothing?’

      ‘What a delightful picture you paint! And I’m not a loser, and neither are you!’

      ‘I’m not going!’

      ‘Listen, there’s one in Wimbledon tonight, at the Old Brewery, and I think we should go. Think how many men will be there – all under one roof!’

      ‘That’s what’s putting me off!’ I countered. ‘I said I fancied a few dates, not to have to face a roomful of gagging-for-it men. I’m not sure, Sam, I’m all hungover and… I don’t feel I’m ready!’

      ‘Of course you’re ready, you’ve said so! And if you’re not, I am! Some of them might be quite nice. Please come with me.’

      ‘Ah, right, so this is all about you!’ I put a teasing arm round her waist. ‘Talk about emotional blackmail!’ She put a return arm round me and gave me a pleading look. We resembled a pair of same-sex figure skaters. ‘Okay, I’ll think about it.’

      ‘Great!’

      ‘I’m going back to my desk now. Thanks for the tea. You know I’m not going to drink it, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes, I know.’

      My next bulletin was at three minutes past eleven, straight after the news. I had time to think about Sam’s proposition. Even actually in the noughties, when speed dating first came out, I would have said ‘no’. That I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. Lie down in a pit of snakes and take my chances. But I had said I wanted to date again. That I was up for fun, flirting and frivolity. It had been one part of my four-point plan. And Sam really wanted to go; she’d looked like an over-excited puppy with an open back door and a sunny garden in its sights. Plus, she’d come up to London at the drop of a hat yesterday, when I’d asked her. I know she’d had a semi-firm date lined up, with an accountant from East Sheen, which she’d cancelled.

      ‘Hey, Peony!’

      Peony was walking past with a box full of tapes and stuff. She’s all blonde and petite and gorgeous. Super-efficient, too; Max is a lucky man.

      ‘Hey, Daryl. How you doing? Feeling any better?’

      ‘Ah, Sam said she’d told you about our little adventure yesterday. Yes, a bit, thanks.’

      ‘You’re incorrigible, you two.’

      I shrugged and grinned. ‘I know. What can you do? So, when are you coming out with us again? It’s been ages.’

      ‘I know. Sorry, I’ve been so busy with planning the wedding and all that stuff… and Max…’ It was her turn to shrug. ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘I know,’ I said. ‘We’ll be waiting for you. We’re always available for meeting up.’

      ‘I know you are. And I’m glad you’re back on social track, these days.’ She gave me one of her lovely smiles. ‘We’ll definitely do it soon, I promise. So… I hear the absolute came through.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And you’re feeling okay about it?’

      ‘Peony, I feel fabulous about it, I really do. A really painful chapter of my life has finally come to an end.’

      ‘Well, that’s wonderful, Daryl. Really wonderful.’ And she plonked down her box and came and gave me a hug. She always smelled like flowers. Her marriage would work out, I knew it would. Well, mine had, for quite a while. Until Jeff had turned out to be an absolute bastard. But she was marrying Max, who was great. They would last the distance and he wouldn’t go off with any of Peony’s friends – most of us were far too old for him, anyway. ‘So what are you going to do now?’

      ‘A housewarming, next month some time, after I’ve spruced my new house up a bit. And Sam wants me to go speed dating with her tonight.’

      ‘Oh, wow! Oh, you should!’

      ‘I’m not sure.’

      ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

      I thought about it. I could meet a bunch of absolute idiots. I could meet someone who I thought wasn’t an absolute idiot but then he’d turn out to be one. I could fall in love. That was the worst. I didn’t want to risk my heart ever again; I couldn’t bear it to be trampled on as mercilessly as Jeff had done. Yes, I was okay now. Yes, I had survived and was ready to embrace my future. But there was no way I could put myself through it all again.

      My silence and the tragi-comic look on my face must have spoken volumes. Peony laughed. ‘Look, just don’t go expecting to meet the love of your life, you probably won’t.’

      ‘No, I don’t want that. God, no. The love of my life was almost its ruin.’

      She smiled at me sympathetically for a moment and then said, ‘So, go! Go for a laugh, a giggle, a good night out. Don’t take it seriously.’ She gathered up her box. ‘I’ll see you later, Daryl. I’ve got to go and drive the afternoon desk.’

      ‘Happy driving! Thanks Peony.’

      She walked away and I went to twiddle the empty spot on the third finger of my left hand, relieved once again to find my ring wasn’t there any more. Peony was wise. Peony was right. I was divorced now, my wedding ring was off. I was over it. I should be ready to put myself out there, for fun, for a laugh. I could go speed dating, though I would make it clear to Sam there’d be no falling in love with anyone. There wouldn’t even be any kissing of any frogs, and I imagine there’d be a lot of frogs there tonight. I couldn’t see any prince among men turning up to speed dating.

      I texted Sam, from across the office.

       Okay, I’m up for it. Let’s do it.

      I just had the four forty-seven weather bulletin to go. Things had been getting more exciting since my three o’clock. There was the chance of a heavy shower tonight; a new weather pattern was moving in from the north of France. I was looking at all the charts and writing my report. But my thoughts were elsewhere. I’d said ‘yes’ to Sam but as soon as I had, almost

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