From there, she headed in the direction of her office, and away from the police station, only stopping for a moment to hand the ten-pound note to the homeless man she had seen sitting in the doorway of a disused retail store on her way past earlier that morning.

  She gave the money to him because he seemed like a good man. But she was well aware that appearances could be deceptive.

  After all, Joe had seemed like a good man and look how wrong she had been there.

  Joe

  08:33

  Borough High Street, Central London

  Joe Swan knew his date with April was going well. A number of things had given him this positive impression, such as the fact that she kept touching her hair while they spoke. Every self-respecting lothario knew that subconscious grooming was a sure-fire sign of physical attraction. The fact that she had laughed at his many attempts at humour was another good indicator that she was enjoying getting to know him. But most convincing of all, they had been in discussion for half an hour now, and the conversation had never once threatened to run dry. The time had passed in the blink of an eye, and you know what they say about that.

  Time flies when you’re having fun.

  So far, they had discussed many of the usual topics that tend to come up on a first date. Like what they did for work:

  “I’m a Sales Advisor at Barringdon Insurers,” he had told her, flashing the expensive watch on his wrist as he had picked up his coffee cup and taken a long sip. “I was one of the lucky ones who made it through the trainee scheme. The plan is to get into selling life insurance. That’s where the real money is.”

  “I’m a project coordinator at Five Star Interiors,” she had said, fiddling with her own coffee cup and checking on her hair again. “You probably haven’t heard of it. It’s quite a small company. It’s boring, but it’s okay, I guess.”

  They had discussed where and with whom they lived in London:

  “I rent with a mate from work and a guy from my 5-a-side footy team,” he had said, brushing his hands across his neatly trimmed stubble and making sure she got a good glimpse of his watch again. “It’s a typical lad’s pad, but I’ll probably try and get my own place soon. I’ll be earning enough once I get my promotion.”

  She had smiled. “I live in Angel with my best friend Katie,” she told him, whilst fidgeting with one of her rings and doing her best to go five seconds without touching her hair. “I love it there, there are so many cool pubs. It’s great in the summer.”

  And of course, they had discussed a few of their hobbies and interests:

  “Football, rugby, golf, drinking with the boys,” he had confessed to her, before realising that he probably wasn’t selling himself too well and so threw in the more general “and going to the cinema, watching Netflix, just chilling out, you know?”

  “I love the gym,” she had said. He suspected that this was a lie but couldn’t be sure as she looked in decent enough shape. “And just the usual things, you know, like drinks with friends and chilling out.”

  He had made her laugh with tales of his previous dating disasters, like the time he had got himself locked in the toilet of the pub they were in with no phone signal and by the time he had got out, the girl had gone, convinced he had stood her up. She had some pretty funny stories herself, like going on a date with a guy who turned out to be a massive Star Wars nerd and got the barista to write something weird and geeky on her coffee cup in Starbucks. And they’d even each had time to mention where they originally came from.

  “Orpington,” he had said, referring to the leafy town in Kent where he had been born. “My parents and most of my mates are still there, but I don’t think I could ever move back. I love the city too much.”

  “Chelmsford,” she had told him. Essex was not a part of the country that he knew, so his perception of Chelmsford was based purely on what he had gleaned from the reality television show The Only Way Is Essex.

  “It’s nothing like the television show,” she had quickly clarified, clearly used to people forming inaccurate opinions as a result of the popular programme.

  All in all, it had been a fun meeting between two strangers with plenty of laughter and zero awkward moments. That was all he could have asked for considering it was a first date in a coffee shop early on a Monday morning.

  He found April extremely attractive, though he had already known that because he had seen her photo on Tinder a couple of days earlier. He was partial to blondes, though he didn’t care if they were blonde, brunette, red-headed or even shaven-headed as long as they looked good. But when he had first arrived at the coffee shop and seen her sitting at the table by the window, with the early morning sunlight dancing across her face, he had realised she looked even better in person than in her profile photo. As he had made his way to the table to meet her, he knew before a word had been spoken that he would consider himself very lucky if their interactions were to result in them being in the bedroom together.

  But once they had got past the initial greeting, Joe had been happy to discover that April was just as exciting in the personality department as she was in the looks department. She had told him how this early morning dating thing was new for her and was a sort of trial run. When she had confessed that she usually preferred her dates to involve multiple bottles of prosecco in a bar with a good atmosphere, he could tell she was up for fun and that if he did well enough to get a second date with her, it would likely be a lot boozier and raunchier than this one.

  He had done well to highlight what he considered to be his assets during the date. Like his rugged handsomeness, defined by the perfect amount of facial hair that he had grown for today, which made him look more masculine than scruffy. Like the fact that he was gainfully employed and had turned up in his best dark blue shirt and tie, a look that had so far proved most successful with the ladies. And like the fact that he was making good money for someone his age, which he had strategically displayed by flashing his watch, his new mobile phone and his wallet, all at discreet but purposeful times during their chat. He’d even managed to avoid being caught taking glances at her chest when she spoke, instead taking the opportunities when she had looked out of the window or down at her coffee cup. He really had been a proper gentleman for the last half an hour. But now the date was almost over, and all he had to do was make sure he secured the next one.

  “I’m sorry, I need to get going for work,” April said, glancing at her phone screen. “Another boring day in the office awaits.”

  “Phone in sick and let’s go get a proper drink,” he cheekily replied, only half-joking.

  She laughed and rolled her eyes, and he was struck again by how attracted he was to her.

  “I wish. I’ve got so many deadlines this week. But we should go for that drink soon,” she said, which was music to Joe’s ears.

  “Okay, but on one condition,” he said, deliberately holding back on the next part to draw out the suspense and build the sexual tension that was already forming between them.

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?” she asked, smiling curiously.

  “I pick the place next time. And the start time. No offence, but I reckon I can come up with somewhere a bit wilder than Caffe Nero on a Monday morning.”

  April laughed again, her long hair flowing backwards as she tilted her head.

  “I’m sure you can. It would be a massive fail if you couldn’t.”

  They shared a flirtatious glance then he reluctantly stood up, followed closely by April. They walked through the busy coffee shop to the door, passing the queue of bleary-eyed commuters who were waiting for their caffeine and sugar fix from the harassed girl behind the counter.

  Joe held open the door for April, and they stepped outside onto the sun-kissed pavement of one of the busiest streets in Central London.

  “So you’d better get to work, and I’d better get working on where I’m taking you next time then,” he said to her as they stood beside each other in a sea of swirling pedestrians and car horns.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she replied, turning away and slowly increasing the distance between them. “Text me when you think of a good idea. And when your head has stopped hurting.”

  She gave him a cheeky wink, and he laughed as he watched her walk away, her blonde head bobbing beside all the other people that were competing for space in this frenetic part of London.

  When she was out of sight, he allowed himself a small fist pump at the successful outcome of the date before turning and walking in the opposite direction towards London Bridge. He didn’t have to be in the office until 09:30, so decided to make the half-hour walk to his office in Tower Bridge instead of jumping on the tube and missing out on the sunshine.

  He smiled to himself as he joined the flow of commuters streaming in the same direction as him, and thought through a couple of options for where he could take April for their second date. A few places came to mind straight away.

  Itzy’s was a trendy wine bar near his office where he had spent many a fun night, and he was sure she would be impressed with the atmosphere in there. But then he remembered he had had a thing with one of the barmaids there and quickly decided that it was a no-go area for a little while longer.

  Passion Bar was an option. It was a new bar that had recently opened near Liverpool Street, and he had heard good things. Plus, he was sure she wouldn’t have been there yet, and it would be better if he showed her somewhere new. It would make the date more exciting for them both if they were on unfamiliar territory.

  Then again it might be better to play it safe and just do a little bar crawl, starting somewhere simple like All Bar One, where he would be more relaxed as it was somewhere he had drunk in hundreds of times over the last couple of years. But that was the plain, average choice and if he had picked up on one thing from April during their date, it was that she had wasn’t the type of girl that did plain or average.

  Passion Bar it was.

  Joe caught sight of the water cutting through the city and left the craziness of Borough behind for the equal craziness of the large bridge that stretched over the River Thames. On a sunny day, there weren’t many prettier views of London than this one. Today the deep-blue sky helped brighten the murky waters of the river and made it look more appealing than it usually did. The modern architecture on either side of the water glistened in response to the brilliant sunshine, appearing even more majestic than usual. But the best thing about days like this was the mindset they put Londoners in. People who were used to rushing over this bridge in a foul mood while often being battered by high winds and torrential rain were instead able to slow down a little and appreciate their walk into work when the weather was being kinder to them. Things seemed to be more peaceful here when the sun was out, and Joe could sense the optimism in the air as he made his way over the bridge.

  It was views like this that had helped him decide that he could never go back to small-town suburban living. He wanted to be here, with the skyscrapers, and the crowds, and the numerous bars, restaurants, clubs and clubbers. London was where the action was, and the money. Sure, it had its downsides. The tube sucked. Prices were high. And the threat of terrorism lurked at the back of the minds of everyone who spent time here, himself included. The sight of the barriers at both ends of the bridge were evidence of that, installed after a vehicle attack on pedestrians only a few years earlier. But it was days like today when London felt more powerful than any of that. It was his new home, and he felt extremely lucky to be able to say that.

  He paused for a moment and took out his phone, suddenly feeling the need to capture a record of his walk into the office on this beautiful June morning. He took a great photo, the Thames in the foreground stretching all the way back to Tower Bridge in the background, and he was just about to upload it to Instagram when his finger instinctively tapped on the Tinder app.

  He saw he had two more matches. A brunette called Rebecca, and a blonde called Amy. He smiled and was just about to message them both with his usual opening line when he thought of April and the reason that she had been the first date he had been on in months. He had taken a break from dating, and from the opposite sex in general, for a very strong reason and now he was re-entering that world, he was aware of how careful he had to be. How easy it would be to slip back into his old ways. All the girls. All the drunken shagging. All the cheating.

  And that night with Louise.

  Even standing here now, filled with the optimism that came with a successful date and drowning in the brilliant sunlight of a picturesque day, he knew he would never be able to feel truly at peace with his life. He had made a mistake. He had done a bad thing. He could easily have lost everything. His job. His credibility.

  His freedom.

  Where was Louise now? What was she doing? Was she okay?

  They were the questions that came into his mind as he stood in the middle of the bridge and looked down at the fast-flowing river that ran underneath him. But really, they weren’t the questions to which he wanted answers. There was only one question that mattered because the answer could destroy his life forever.

  Would she ever tell anyone what happened?

  April

  08:34

  Borough High Street, Central London

  April Adams had seen the light. All this time she had just been doing it wrong. No wonder she was still single. The drunken dates, the one-night stands, being ghosted, treating them mean to keep them keen or being keen only to end up looking like a desperate bean. Of course, none of it had worked. Because she hadn’t been herself in any of those situations. She had been intoxicated, or trying something she had read in a magazine, or pretending to be the main character in her favourite rom com, (which had, for many years, been Bridget Jones).

  Basically, she had been doing all the things that didn’t come naturally to her, and because of that, all her previous encounters with men had resulted in her being less authentic than a Chanel handbag bought from Putney Market.

  Until today.

  The date with Joe had gone well. So well that they had already planned for a second one. And the best thing about it was that there had been no acting, or alcohol, or bad decisions in sight. Just clean, crisp, fun conversation over a coffee at Caffe Nero at 8 am. Who knew dating could be so simple?

  She felt a wave of relief washing over her as she made her way towards her office in Borough. It was the relief that came with knowing that dating didn’t have to be the awkward disaster that she had spent most of her twenties believing it to be. It didn’t just have to be about swiping right as many times as you could in an hour and hoping you struck gold, a strategy which seemed about as reliable as buying a dozen lottery tickets and expecting to be an instant millionaire. It didn’t have to be about waking up in a strange bed in a strange part of the city and hoping that the guy you had only just met and already slept with somehow felt like wanting to see you again for anything other than a late night booty call. And it definitely didn’t have to be accompanied by the constant headache, dread and anxiety that came with being hungover and questioning whether you were destined to go through your whole life as single as the last Pringle in the tub.

  It felt like a whole new world had suddenly opened up to her, and she knew who she had to thank for that.

  She took out her iPhone and made a call to her best friend, Katie. She had promised to text her straight after the date, but she was so excited that a simple message wouldn’t have done the job. She wanted to speak to her in person and say thank you for changing her life.

  Katie answered on the second ring. She had no doubt already been holding the phone, playing that puzzle game that she loved so much. At this time of morning, she was presumably still on the bus to work.

  “Hi slut” was the affectionate salutation that greeted April from the other end of the line.

  April rolled her eyes, used to her friend’s charming way with words by now. They had been besties since meeting at uiniversity, and besides her mother and sister, there wasn’t another woman on the planet who knew her as well as Katie did.

  “Alright Fleabag” April replied, using the greeting that had become customary since she had spotted Katie’s resemblance to the British television character famous for her drunken, sexually explicit behaviour. The comparison applied mainly to her looks, but there was also more than a little similarity in the personality department.

  Katie was just as debauched as April was, except it came more naturally to her. For April nothing came naturally. Not dating, not dieting and certainly not walking in this new pair of heels she had forced her feet into this morning.

  “So, how did it go?” Katie asked over the loud hum of the bus engine she was sitting in close proximity to.

  “Well, we had a coffee and we had a chat,” April teased, deliberately drawing out the story to intrigue her friend even further.

  “Annnnd?” Katie replied impatiently, anticipating some juicy gossip or a hilarious story following her friend’s date this morning.

  “And we’re going to see each other again.”

  “Arghhhhhhhh!” Katie screamed down the phone, almost loudly enough to shatter April’s eardrum.

  “Calm down, it’s only a second date,” April said when the screaming on the other end of the line had stopped.

  “Yeah but you literally never do second dates,” Katie reminded her, and it was true, second dates had been a rare occurrence for her in recent times. “See, I told you morning dating was the way to go.”

  “You might be right,” April said as she continued her journey to work, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face and feeling that everything might actually be alright in the world for once.

  “So, tell me everything!” Katie demanded eagerly, probably taking out a notepad and pen at the same time. “And don’t leave anything out!”

  April felt herself smiling again and realised she hadn’t felt this good about a guy in a long time.

 

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