‘You told me the night we first met in the bar that you knew there and then that we’d end up getting married,’ she said. ‘You said that you felt your heart flutter. Now, for my own peace of mind, I need you to meet this guy to find out if your heart flutters for him too. Otherwise you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering.’
‘No, babe, you will spend the rest of your life wondering. I will spend it wondering why on earth I’ve apparently been Matched with a guy when it’s a woman I’m head over heels in love with.’
‘There’s no “apparently” about it, Nick. It’s science and science is based on fact, whether you believe it or not. You have to do this.’
Nick took a deep breath and took Sally’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply on the lips. While outwardly he was giving the appearance of not caring to meet his Match, inside Nick had a growing curiosity about the man he supposedly shared a link with.
‘Well, let’s get this over with.’ He sighed.
‘I’ll be in the Costa over the road when you’re done.’
Nick gave her a half-hearted smile, pressed the buzzer on the door, and once it opened, made his way up three flights of stairs to the reception desk.
‘Hi.’ He smiled nervously at the young receptionist who had a tattoo of a rose on her hand. ‘I’ve got an appointment with Alexander at 2.30.’
‘David Smith?’ she asked, glancing at the schedule on her screen. Nick nodded, pleased he’d changed his name. If Alexander had also requested the contact details of his pairing, Nick hadn’t wanted to forewarn him they were about to meet face to face. ‘You need some physio on your neck and shoulder, is that right?’ she continued.
‘Yes.’
‘OK, just fill out this form and Alex will be with you in a few minutes.’
Nick sank into an armchair and began to complete the brief questionnaire about his bogus ailment. Along with his name, he’d also made up the whiplash he’d received in a recent non-existent car accident.
‘David?’ A deep but friendly voice with an accent Nick couldn’t quite place came from behind him. Nick turned to find a smiling Alexander standing in the doorway.
‘Y-yes,’ Nick stammered.
‘I’m Alex,’ he began and held out his hand to shake Nick’s. ‘Come in and let’s take a look at you.’
Nick followed him into a room and perched on the physiotherapy bed as Alex sat on a fold-up chair opposite.
‘So, tell me about the pain and what caused it,’ Alex asked.
As Nick began, he hoped Alex wouldn’t ask him to go into any further detail about the accident as that was as far as he’d rehearsed his lie. But instead, Alex ran through some general questions about Nick’s health and work habits while Nick tried his best not to stare. Even Nick could admit that, like his photo had indicated, Alex was incredibly good-looking.
‘Right, if you want to take your T-shirt off for me and lie down face up,’ Alex said, and squirted some sanitiser into his hands. Nick suddenly felt very scrawny compared to Alex’s broad chest, which burst from his V-neck T-shirt.
‘I’m just going to feel around your neck and shoulders for a moment,’ Alex explained and stood behind him.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Nick thought to himself, bracing himself for Alex’s touch, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him, like his nipples standing to attention or his penis twitching. He reminded himself that when he was drunk he’d often embrace his male friends and it’d never sparked a sexual reaction before. He closed his eyes and prayed as Alex’s hands made contact with his shoulders. And then … nothing. All he felt were Alex’s fingers poking around, digging into knots, manipulating his neck into different positions and requesting him to tilt it in various directions. Nick breathed a sigh of relief.
He turned around and lay face down upon the bed at Alex’s request, putting his face through a hole and Alex’s hands made his way down his patient’s spine, aligning certain vertebrae with an audible crack where necessary. Despite the occasional moment of discomfort, Nick felt relaxed enough to make small talk.
‘So, are you an Aussie?’
‘No, a Kiwi. I’m from New Zealand.’
‘Ah, how long have you been over here?’
‘About twenty months or so, although my visa’s running out. My old man’s not doing so good so I’m heading home soon.’
‘Oh, sorry to hear that. Are you going back for good?’
‘That’s the idea. We’re just in the process of sorting out my girlfriend’s permit to work in New Zealand. She’s a Brit.’
He has a girlfriend, he’s not gay, thought Nick, reassured that they were in the same boat. The same, straight, positively heterosexual, boat.
As Alex continued to manipulate and manoeuvre his way around Nick’s shoulders and neck, they made small talk about work and where they socialised. Nick learned that they occasionally frequented the same bars, but had little else in common. Alex was the sporty type, playing amateur rugby most weekends – he’d proudly displayed a photo of his team, Solihull Rugby Club, on the wall of his office – or spending time away with his girlfriend fell walking or rock climbing. The closest Nick came to exercise was running for a bus when he’d overslept.
‘Right, mate, that should just about do you for today,’ said Alex. ‘You were a bit knotted but it wasn’t too bad back there. Give it another week and, if the symptoms persist, make another appointment to come and see me.’
‘Great, thank you,’ replied Nick, throwing on his T-shirt and jacket. As he got to his feet feeling a little light-headed, he spotted Sally through the window, three floors below in the coffee shop. He smiled to himself, reassured that this hiccup hadn’t spoiled their plans. The person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with was sitting on the opposite side of the road, and not standing in the same room as him.
After shaking hands, Nick made his way towards the reception desk. He held his phone up to the machine scanner to pay, realising how foolish he’d been for even worrying about the possibility of being gay. This was proof, he told himself, that the DNA tests were a con.
He glanced towards the treatment room just as Alex turned his head. And suddenly, as their eyes made contact, Nick felt himself take a sharp, involuntarily gasp of breath. His heart began to beat wildly and he could feel his eyes widen. His stomach felt like it was about to turn over, and by the look of sudden bewilderment on Alex’s face, he could tell he was feeling exactly the same thing.
‘Here’s your receipt.’ The receptionist smiled, breaking Nick free from the spell. He hurried down the stairs and out of the building in a panic.
He stood on the pavement for a moment, leaning against the wall and hoping the gentle summer breeze might cool down his flushed face. What the hell was that? he asked himself.
When his sharp, shallow breaths gradually became deeper and his heartbeat began to self-regulate again, he made his way towards Sally.
‘Well? How was it?’ she asked anxiously, as he sat himself down on a stool beside her.
‘Yeah, fine, but he’s not my type.’ Nick smiled, and forced himself to laugh.
‘So I’m not about to lose my fiancé to a man?’
By the tone of her voice it sounded like she was trying to make a joke, but he could tell her question was genuine.
‘Did you honestly think that might be the case?’
‘No. Well, maybe. A little. Yes.’
‘Of course not,’ he said reassuringly, comforting her with a peck to her forehead. As she stretched her arms out and wrapped them tightly around him, Nick’s eyes glanced across the road and up three storeys to the clinic, where he knew he’d left his heart.