Finding Finley
The First Impressions
MUM: Where are you??
The phone in my hand buzzed for the second time in ten minutes. I rolled my eyes as I swiped away the notification. I shoved my phone into the side pocket of my bag, gripping my hand around one of the poles lining the train carriage. The train slowed to a stop causing multiple bodies to bump into my own, I was glad I picked the perfect moment to hold on.
It was a Friday night, meaning the train was full to the brim with both workers heading home and young adults heading out. I would've loved to be apart of the 'heading home' crew, but sadly for me a Friday night outing has been organised. Trust my mum to demand family dinner at some restaurant that required me to travel in peak hour commuter time to Oxford Street, a fate worse than death some would consider.
I felt my phone vibrate once again in my bag, but due to tight constraints I actually couldn't reply this time. Two stops later and I pushed my way through the throngs of commuters onto the Oxford Circus platform. Readjusting my bag, I pulled out my phone again to finally reply to my mother.
ME: just got off the tube, bloody nightmare. maps says its a 7 min walk, see you soon :)
I tacked on the emoji to hopefully abate my mother's growing annoyance. She insisted on everyone meeting at the restaurant at 6:30pm sharp. I knew it was going to be a close call to make it there on time, one extended staff meeting later meant I was walking down Oxford Street and it was already 6:52pm. I weaved my way expertly through the crowded footpath, diligently following the directions on my phone. I cut down a side street and found myself outside the restaurant. I smiled to myself as I checked the time once again. 6:56pm. A 7 minute walk cut into 5 minutes. That was one good thing at least.
The restaurant was absolutely buzzing with people, in fact I was quite surprised by my mother's choice for a dinner reservation. It definitely wasn't her usual style. I pushed past the small groups of people gathered around the tables outside and began to crane my head around looking for my family. Once inside, I was even more surprised by the venue. It was essentially a bar, but a bar that also served a full menu of food. There was people everywhere, gathered around bar tables, seated in booths, sitting at tables, even some people moving about on what looked like a make-shift dance floor. This place must come alive in the late hours of the night.
Despite the bustling of people, I couldn't spot my mum's red hair or one of my dad's obnoxiously bright button-downs. I crinkled my brows, maybe I got the place wrong? I unlocked my phone and scrolled back through the messages with my mum looking for the address she sent me. Berwick Street, I was definitely in the right place.
ME: where are you guys? im standing near the door
I chewed my lip as I surveyed the room again before turning my attention back to my phone once more. Really? She texts me how many times in the space of ten minutes and now she's just suddenly not replying?
ME: hello?? help me out i look like a prat just standing here
"Um... Hi..." I looked up from my phone to see that I was being spoken to. A boy stood in front of me with a sheepish grin on his face, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. One of the workers here maybe? He did look the part.
"Oh, hello. I could actually use your help, I believe there should be a reservation under O'Connor. Or maybe Barbara?"
His eyes widened. "Umm..."
"Sorry, I would normally just try and find the people I'm meeting but it's so busy in here. Is it always this crazy on a Friday?"
He stared at me, looking extremely confused. Was I rambling too much?
"You're... Finley, right?" He finally spoke.
I raised my eyebrows, caught off guard. "How do you know my name?"
He studied me intently. "Something's telling me you've been led here on wrong assumptions."
"I'm here for a family dinner thing..."
He laughed and shook his head, suddenly looking a little more relaxed. He ran his hand through his hair. It was probably cropped short at one point but the haircut had obviously grown out, leaving the ends of his hair curling into each other. "You might want to ring whoever told you that. I'll grab us a table though, come over when you're ready."
Completely dumbfounded, I watched as the boy turned away. His curly head of hair almost immediately disappeared into the sea of people. What the hell was going on. I turned and pushed back outside, where it was slightly quieter and immediately dialled my mother's phone.
"Finley, hello." She greeted me in a completely nonchalant tone.
"Don't 'hello' me, what the hell is going on? Where are you all?"
"So you met Harry then?"
Her nonplussed approach to the conversation was just putting me more and more on edge. "You mean the boy who apparently knows who I am and what's going on?"
"Yes, his name is Harry Styles. He sounds like such a nice boy, comes from a good home. Your Aunty May works with his mum, said he's had a bit of a tough time lately." I finally started to wrap my head around what was going on.
"What are you on about? Am I not here for dinner? With the family at least?" I said slowly, trying to bite back my impending rage.
"Well, obviously not Finley! I've set you up on a blind date, isn't this so exciting. A blind date that you were almost 30 minutes late for might I add. He's definitely a good lad for waiting around for you."
I couldn't believe that she was going on and on as if this was all okay. "Are you serious?! Why didn't you tell me that I was meeting some bloody sod for a bloody date?"
"Well, you have just proven my point. Would you have willingly gone on this date if you knew? Just a little lie to get you there Finny, no harm done."
I rolled my eyes and pulled my phone away from my ear to stop myself from cursing up a storm. "Point proven or not," I shoved my phone back to my ear, "there's no reason why my mother of all people should be setting me up on dates! I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself, thank you very much."
She laughed once. "Oh Finley, when was the last time you seriously dated someone? You're almost 24, I'm just trying to jump start something!"
"I didn't know being 23 and single was a crime now."
"No, no! I just worry about you!"
I sighed heavily. I knew she had good intentions at heart, but still this was a big inconvenience. Sometimes I couldn't help but blame my younger brother for my mother's sudden interest in my love life. He's only 22 and has already found the love of his life, in fact they were set to be married in a few months time. Ever since he announced to the family that he was proposing to Abbi my mother had gone into a right state over how her eldest child is going to become a spinster. That aside, this blind date has definitely taken things too far.
"Mum, I know. But I don't need you to do things like this."
"Look, I know you think I'm being too meddlesome right now—"
"That's an understatement."
"But all I'm asking is for you to sit down and just have some drinks and a bite to eat with him. I promise I won't force any further dates with him."
I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead, almost as if I was trying to prevent an impending headache. "Fine. Seeing as I trekked all this way."
"Oh, lovely!" I could picture her practically jumping up and down in joy.
"I really wish you told me I was going on a date though. I look like a tosser. I didn't even have time to put a lick of makeup on this morning because I slept through my first alarm."
"I told you to bring a change of clothes for dinner! Why don't you listen to me?" She chastised.
"Um, because you told me it was just dinner with the family. Why the hell would I dress up for that?"
She sighed. "Well, just try and make a good impression okay? Use your charming personality."
I laughed. "Do first impressions last? Because I've already mistaken him for the waiter of this joint. That and the fact that I've made him wait for ages."
"Oh god, Finny."
"Look, I better go. He probably already thinks I've skived off."
"Good luck, honey. I can't wait to hear all about it!"
"Good bye, mum." I promptly ended the call to further enforce my annoyance about this whole situation.
I forcefully shoved my phone back into my bag and took a deep breath to calm myself. A bloody date. I still can't believe it. I smoothed my hands over my dark pants, suddenly becoming self conscious of my attire. Working in HR isn't all that glamorous, so I really felt that my simple white blouse, grey woollen coat and trousers weren't up to a blind date standard. But this is all I had to work with. I shook out my arms and took another calming breath. Pulling my auburn hair over to one shoulder, I strode back into the bar.
I wove my way through the crowd, looking for that distinctive crop of curls. I spotted him occupying one of the many booths that lined the edges of the place. He was already nursing a drink (Alcohol? I couldn't tell) and was fiddling with one of the napkins on the table. He looked nervous, makes two of us at least.
As smoothly as I could, I slid into the opposite side of the booth. "So, Harry is it?"
So cute
9/2/17