Chapter 3

Chapter Three

M r Chips was delighted to see her. Admittedly, he had a fairly expressionless face, but he always ran to the front door when she got in and wound himself around Kiera’s legs. His tabby fur was damp from being out in the rain. Kiera walked through to her kitchen and poured out some cat biscuits for him, which he tucked into with his usual gusto.

Kiera had never liked cats, bucking the lesbian stereotype. She had never been a member of the famous Kings Heath Cat Club, nor had she stopped to pet random cats as she walked along her street. But in the last year, since her life had changed and found herself spending more time alone, she’d reassessed her aversion towards furry creatures. She was never going to have a dog – they scared her, and she had a terrible allergy. But one day, at Lou’s insistence (“you know loneliness kills, don’t you?”), she had gone to the Cats Protection League where she had found Mr Chips, a ten-year-old moggy whose elderly owner had gone into a care home .

Initially shy, Mr Chips had soon become Kiera’s constant companion, always wanting to sit beside her or on her lap. He was someone to come home to – undemanding, loving, unconditional. He was everything she needed when her life had spiralled out of control, courtesy of Chrissie and her rapid descent into personal chaos.

Kiera settled herself on the sofa and pulled out her phone to text Lou and thank her again for meeting her. Her friend had been a godsend throughout the last year. There was something about personal trauma of this kind that divided friends into those you could rely on, and those you couldn’t. Lou was definitely in the former camp.

There was an unfamiliar red and orange notification on the screen. It was the dating app.

Someone had ‘liked’ her.

Kiera’s stomach dropped with something between fear, apprehension and excitement. She cleared the notification and messaged Lou. She stroked Mr Chips for a moment, then placed him on the sofa beside her. She went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of sauvignon blanc. Dutch courage was required.

Finally, she settled on the armchair and opened the app. The woman who’d liked her was called Maz. In her pictures, she was frowning out at Kiera from the screen, nose-ring to the fore, poorly lit - perhaps trying to cultivate a moody vibe. She just looked miserable. Kiera was disappointed, and swiped left.

Now she was online, though, she could see who else was on there. It wouldn’t do any harm. The first profile up was Sarah, whose pictures all showed her with bunny ears filters. Kiera wrinkled her nose and swiped left again. The next few profiles met with the same fate, due to a variety of animal filters .

The next profile was more promising, showing a tall, slim woman with long dark hair standing on a mountain top. Adventurous. That sounded good. Kiera checked the woman’s other photos and was contemplating swiping right to indicate that she was interested, when she came across a picture of the woman and her five dogs. With a sigh, she swiped left. She didn’t want to run the risk of needing hospitalisation due to her somewhat unpredictable asthma thanks to a rogue dog hair on a first date.

She swiped left on profiles of couples who were ‘looking for a friend to join them’ and of women who announced themselves as ‘bi-curious’. She had no beef with them, but felt too fragile to serve as someone else’s experiment.

Finally, she came across a profile of a normal-looking woman with a nice smile, kind eyes and short blonde curly hair. She checked through the pictures. No animal filters, no dogs. Finally.

“Ok, Mr Chips. What do you think?” He looked up at her, his face as blank as usual. She tried to glean some meaning in his silence, but he simply looked away and closed his eyes. Did that mean “you go girl”? Or did it mean “sashay away”?

Kiera took a sip of wine. At that moment a text came through from Lou. “You’d better be swiping!” She laughed at herself, and her indecision, and before she could talk herself out of it, swiped right.

She closed the app immediately, and put her phone face down on the coffee table. She drained her wine glass and wondered how on earth this was going to work for her.

Her phone vibrated a little while later, and she was hesitant to pick it up, in case it was the dating app informing her that someone else wholly unsuitable liked her. Or, worse (or perhaps better), that the woman she had swiped right on had swiped right on her. She had no idea what she would do if that happened.

She took a deep breath and picked up her phone to see a text from Lou, who wanted an update. Kiera smiled. Friendship really was the most reliable form of relationship.