Tube getting here…
“Nadia?”
Matt had been talking to her again. Oh shit!
“I’m sorry,” she babbled as she cast around for an explanation for her offensive inattention. “I, er, I think I know that girl. I was just trying to work out where from.”
“Which girl?” Matt turned fully in his chair to look behind him. “Her?” He pointed straight at Pussy-bow, who panicked that she’d been caught staring and busied herself topping up her already full wine glass. Nadia cringed a little against her seat.
“Er, yeah, but actually I don’t think I do know her, after all.”
“Oh.” Matt swivelled back to front in his seat and picked up his drink again. “Nadia, are you okay? You seem a little… nervous.”
“Nervous?” Nadia echoed.
“Yeah.” Matt smiled. “It’s cute.”
Bless him. He thought that she was just flustered and overwhelmed about being on a date with him, rather than just highly distractible that evening. To be honest, that’s probably what he was used to, if Pussy-bow and co’s reaction to him was anything to go by. Come on, Nadia, she told herself sternly. You have in front of you an absolutely drop-dead gorgeous guy who seems to be really into you and magically has the same name as your Fake Visa Boyfriend. The universe is throwing you a bone here. Take it, take it!
“So are you up for it?” Matt was saying as she tuned back in.
Fuck!
Alex
He'd been trying to get through The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo since he’d been given it for Christmas, but he usually only managed about three paragraphs before he glazed over. The tatty paperback limp against his knees, he stared beyond the pages to the Tube carriage floor and wondered how many more evenings he'd have to work overtime before Donnelly noticed and put him forward for that promotion.
"I really enjoyed this series," someone said. It was the person who'd just got on at the last stop and sat in the seat next to him. "The film was absolute crap, though," she continued. Alex tensed. Only lunatics spoke to people on the Underground. Was he going to have to change carriages at the next stop? The girl laughed. "Don't you remember me?" And yes, he recognised the voice as he turned.
"Nadia, hey!" Alex greeted her, relieved and more than a little pleased. Nadia sat twisted towards him, smiling in the next seat, her bare legs stretched out in front of them, cork-heeled wedges almost touching the seats on the other side of the carriage, her hair in a pale, braided rope over one shoulder. "Wow, fancy bumping into you here! Small world."
"More like, small Northern Line," Nadia grinned. She took in his rather rumpled suit. "Are you just on your way home? It's late."
Alex scratched at the back of his neck, uncomfortably; it probably wasn't the best idea to talk about work with Nadia. "Oh, you know how it is. I'm gunning for promotion." He gave a self-depreciating smile. "Something a little less soul-numbing for a little more money."
"I don't think I could ever do a job like yours," Nadia told him, matter-of-factly. Alex refrained from pedantically pointing out that foreign nationals can't get jobs at the British Home Office. "Oh? Why's that?"
"Ah, it's like a big, grown-up, important job. I mean, you affect people's lives."
Alex scratched uncomfortably again. "I really don't do anything. I told you, I'm just the admin monkey. So," he hurried on, eager to change the subject, "what would your dream job be? I mean, if you could do anything."
"You mean, if I had a visa allowing me to work?" Nadia teased. She tilted her head, giving his question some thought. "I know you're meant to answer these questions with things like, soap star, prime minister, astronaut but…" She looked down at her hands against her thighs. "Lately I've been thinking I'd like to get involved in immigration issues…"
"I thought you said you couldn't deal with an important job?" Alex teased.
"No, I mean, I'd like to have a job where I could help people in my position. Going through the immigration ringer!" She rolled her eyes. "Give them advice, help them with their applications and appeals, that sort of thing. I mean, I don't know if I could actually ever become like, a full-on lawyer, but I could certainly work in translation to start with. Maybe teach Russian, or English to Russians!" She shrugged. "That sort of thing."
Alex, who would have probably genuinely answered that sort of question with “astronaut”, felt rather silly and humbled.
"That sounds like a really good idea," he told her, sincerely. "And very worthy." He was rewarded by a full-on beam from Nadia.
"Ah, that's good to hear. You're the first person I've mentioned it to, so." The Tube slowed as it entered Stockwell station, the carriage almost emptying out as passengers changed onto the Victoria Line. "Anyway, I hope you've got a good dinner waiting for you when you get home. I trust Rory is being a good little housewife and cooking for his overtime-trodden flatmate?"
Alex pictured Rory wearing a ruffled pinny and fretfully stirring multiple pots on the hob and snorted. "I very much doubt that. My dinner plans consist of nipping into one of the many fine Middle Eastern takeaway dining establishments that Tooting boasts on my walk home."
Nadia crinkled her nose. "By 'Middle Eastern dining' do you mean a kebab shop?"
Alex nodded solemnly. "I do." He shrugged. "I don't even know if Rory's going to be in, to be honest! He might be round Lila's."
Nadia regarded him thoughtfully as she felt around in her bag for her Oyster card as the Tube sped up again, with the next stop her own. "Well, I've already eaten," she told him. "But I was going to hit Starbucks en route home and, to be honest, even a Starbucks toastie is going to be better for you than a kebab from Tooting High Street."
"You Clapham snob!" Alex pretended to be affronted. Nadia rolled her eyes, getting to her feet as the tube began to noticeably slow, swinging her bag onto her shoulder.
"Are you coming?" she asked him, with her hand on her hip and a small smile on her face. Alex closed his book decisively. Why not? It wasn't like he had anything in particular to go home to.
Nadia
"I hope you're not one of those 'I want a super-massimo soy latte, extra hot, extra foam, extra soy, extra latte, extra cup-holder please' people," Alex teased her, as they pushed open the glass door and entered the blessedly cool air-conditioned café beyond.
Nadia glared at him. "No, but there's nothing wrong with people knowing what they like. Besides,” she sniffed, “'Massimo' is a Costa sizing and this is a Starbucks." Alex laughed and rolled his eyes at her. Across the tiled floor a harried barista in a long green apron looked over at them from where she was stacking chairs.
"We're closing in five minutes," she told them, accusingly, as if she suspected they were there to bed down for the night.
"Guess there will be no super-nutritious panini for me," Alex signed, gesturing to where the food shelves were already emptied. It was almost eight o' clock at night, of course Starbucks was closing.
Nadia winced. "Sorry. My bad. But to be honest, just air is still better for you than a takeaway kebab. Can we still get some drinks?" she asked the barista who looked towards the ceiling as if she was the most put-upon creature on the earth and mutely moved back behind the counter.
"Actually, it's still a bit too hot for coffee," she told Alex. "Could I have a Lime Refresher, please?" she asked the barista, taking care to be super-polite.
"Refresher? Isn't that a sweet?" Alex asked.
"Oh, it's a drink from their summer range. It's sort of like iced tea."