‘What are you doing?’ I say.
‘Nothing!’ Roo’s tone is uncharacteristically chirpy. ‘How was your night?’
‘Good,’ I say. ‘What are you up to?’ I fix her with a look. ‘I know it’s something.’
Roo sighs and holds up her phone. ‘Fine. I was setting up a dating app profile.’
‘Roo!’ I say. Or possibly squeal. I might be a bit tipsy. ‘What brought this on?’
‘Well,’ says Roo, ‘now the last traces of Justin are gone – for which I am very grateful, by the way—’
‘You’re welcome.’ I do a little curtsey. Okay, I’m definitely tipsy.
‘I think it’s time I started moving on,’ says Roo. She nods determinedly. ‘Yeah. I think it’s time to see what’s out there.’
‘If you think you’re ready, then I say go for it.’ I beam at her. ‘This is so brilliant. Let me help!’
‘No way,’ says Roo. ‘How many drinks have you had?’
‘Hardly any,’ I say. ‘And I had a rice bowl. Come on, show me your profile!’
‘I haven’t finished setting it up yet.’ Roo hands me her phone. ‘I just uploaded some photos.’
‘Whoa, look at this one,’ I say. ‘You look like a 1940s film star. Oh, that one’s lovely too. They’re all lovely! What have you written about yourself?’
‘Hardly anything,’ says Roo. ‘Give me my phone back. I don’t trust you in this state.’
‘Fine.’ I hand it over. ‘But let me help you finish the profile. What’s your bio?’ Roo holds up her phone and I read aloud.‘“Can’t sing. Can’t act. Can dance a little.”’ I frown at Roo. ‘That seems kind of negative.’
‘It’s what the studio said about Fred Astaire when he did his first screen test,’ says Roo. ‘If anyone gets the reference that’ll be a good sign. Also, Icanactually tap dance.’
‘Fair enough,’ I say. ‘But maybe you should actually include something personal. Aren’t there, like, prompts?’
Roo makes a face. ‘There are. But they’re cheesy.’
‘Let me see. I swear I won’t write anything.’ I reach for her phone and look through the list she’s brought up. ‘Okay, how about this one? “My morning routine looks like …”’
‘I have no idea what to say to that,’ says Roo.
‘The truth,’ I say. ‘You drink home-made tea, dress up like a sexy witch and then read tarot cards.’
‘I’m not writing that!’ says Roo. ‘I’d sound unhinged.’
I shrug my shoulders. ‘Fine. Though I think honesty is the best policy. How about …’ I swipe to another section and read the first prompt. ‘“My biggest flaw is …”’
‘Ugh, I don’t know,’ says Roo. ‘I have kind of weird toes?’
‘Donotmention your toes.’ Even in my drunken state I know that’s a bad idea. ‘Say … I know, say you’re terrible at karaoke. Because you really are.’
‘Hey!’ says Roo.
‘I mean, so am I,’ I say. ‘Remember when we did “Dreams” at Laura’s hen party?’
‘Shit, yeah.’ Roo shudders at the memory. ‘We should have apologised to the other guests. And Stevie Nicks. I bet Stevie can sense if someone somewhere is desecrating her song.’
‘What else have we got …’ I scroll down the list. ‘“If loving this is wrong, I don’t want to be right …” Oooh, where do we start?’
‘Okay, much as I appreciate this very sober and sensible advice,’ says Roo, ‘I’m going to do this on my own.’