Jemima froze, a deer in the headlights of a fast-moving awkward situation.

‘Hey!’ Chance smiled and headed towards the voice.

Jemima’s mind raced. Was Chance on some romantic rendezvous? That’s why he’d been weird when she’d assumed he wanted a date. He was already seeing someone! Jemima glanced his way once more. He still hadn’t noticed her. A swift and unnoticed getaway was still possible. She would apologise another time. She snapped her laptop closed and went to get up.

‘Jemima!’

She froze again.

‘Hey you!’ she simpered.

‘Over here, Chance!’

The voice behind Jemima sounded female, young and very Australian.

Great. Jemima was now stuck in the middle of a date sandwich.

‘How’s it going?’ Chance said pointing at her laptop, darting a look towards the voice.

‘Oh, you know,’ Jemima quivered.

‘This is a nice spot to write, eh?’ he said.

‘Yeah, can get a bit noisy,’ said Jemima throwing a discreet but shady eye behind her, just managing to catch a glimpse of Chance’s date.

Jemima noted her long red hair, not ginger but dyed red, like a stop sign. She was younger than Chance, perhaps mid-twenties. Her eyeliner looked like she’d put it on three days ago and her hand-painted Doc Martens were almost completely covered by her frayed flares. Jemima smiled politely in her direction. The woman tutted and went back to her tea.

‘Yeah. I go to our… that park when I want a bit of quiet,’ he said.

‘Yeah…’ said Jemima as the two of them smiled clumsily.

‘So, despite me almost scuppering your writing with demonically bad book readings, has Beverly found love?’ Chance asked.

‘Sort of.’ Jemima shrugged, wanting to say more but knowing now was not the time.

Chance nodded.

‘So… I’m having drinks at my practice next Thursday. Kind of a fundraiser thing. Swing by if you’re free,’ he said.

‘Well, if I’m not busy. You know, writing and everything,’ said Jemima shuffling on the spot.

‘Sure… Course. Oh, listen, about the other day. The whole date thing. We cool?’ he laughed with a silly grimace.

Jemima tilted her head. What was with the face? Was it such a strange proposition to date her?

‘Totally cool. I mean, as if we’d date,’ Jemima said as she slipped her laptop into its case. ‘I mean, riiight? And anyway…’

Jemima threw a look back at Chance’s companion. He followed her gaze.

‘No, I meant—’ said Chance but Jemima already had her coat on.

‘You’re already… whatever and I mean, as if we’d have been a match. Ptttth,’ she scoffed.

‘Right… As if… Well, I’d better get on…’ he said, thumbing in the direction of the crimson-haired foghorn.

‘Yeah, me too,’ said Jemima before bundling towards the door in the hope it led straight to the gangplank of an LA-bound flight.

Outside, her cheeks felt scorched. Well, that was another name to add to the growing list of reasons to relocate to California. She quickly turned towards home but as she passed Nostromo’s window she couldn’t resist taking one last peek. She watched Chance’s date embrace him. They held each other for a long time, her head buried in his neck. Eventually they sat. His date grabbed his hand, yanking it towards her, staring into his eyes. Though Jemima couldn’t see Chance’s face she imagined him mirroring her intensity. Good for them, she exhaled. She pulled out her phone and stared at her last text.