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Authors: John Marrs
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brakes and skidded to a halt and after another hasty U-turn, she was speeding back towards the farm, then down a dirt track towards the white buildings ahead, spitting gravel and dry earth in her wake.
The white wooden single-storey farmhouse with a silver corrugated iron roof sprawled in several directions ahead of her. A handful of cars and trucks were parked in front of it, windows wound down but empty. For a farm, and a dusty one at that, everything looked clean and polished and a hosepipe lay next to colourful flowers planted in pots and hanging from baskets attached to eaves. Bethany was certain it had a woman’s touch. However there were no swings or slides or any children’s toys in sight, so maybe the Williamsons hadn’t started a family yet.
Several hundred metres away, she could hear the cattle braying in a huge shed and way into the distance, she thought she could just about make out a large flock of sheep so small, they looked like stationary tumbleweed stuck to a painting of the horizon.
Bethany turned to face the house, took a deep breath and marched towards the porch door, clueless as to what she was going to say but determined to make her mark regardless. She rapped the knocker until she heard footsteps shuffling inside. Eventually the door opened and a face appeared.
‘You’re not Kevin,’ she began, and took two steps backwards.
CHAPTER 19
NICK
‘Very funny, who am I really Matched with?’ Nick asked as Sally glared at the email on his mobile phone.
‘I’m not joking. Look here, it says “Nicholas Wallsworth, Ref 67775434567FFD. Your designated match is Alexander, male, London, England. Please see instructions below to discover how to access their complete profile”.’
‘Give me that,’ Nick replied and snatched his phone from her hand, unamused by her prank. But when he read the email himself, he realised Sally wasn’t kidding.
‘You’re gay,’ she laughed. ‘My boyfriend, strike that, my fiancé is gay!’
Nick re-read the email then put his phone down on the kitchen counter.
‘This is bollocks,’ he said. ‘They’ve either made a mistake or someone is having a laugh at my expense.’
‘There is no margin for error,’ Sally interrupted. ‘Well, its 99.9999997% accurate, which is far more reliable than a lie detector test.’
‘Well then there’s still margin for error, and if there’s margin for error then errors must theoretically be possible. And here’s the proof that an almighty fuck-up has been made.’
‘That would make you the first person in the world to be mis-Matched - the only person out of about one and a half billion who’ve registered. So I think you need to face facts my darling, you are a gentleman who enjoys the company of other like-minded gentlemen.’
‘Oh be quiet Sal,’ Nick replied, becoming irritated. ‘This Match Your DNA bollocks is just a money making scam otherwise they wouldn’t charge you a tenner to tell you who you’ve been Matched with. Horoscopes are more credible than this.’
‘Hey, it’s not a problem,’ Sally teased, ‘I’ve always wanted a GBFF and it turns out I’m about to marry mine.’
Nick rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not gay, all right? I think I’d have known about it by now if I were. You don’t just get to the age of twenty-seven without a single moment of attraction to another man and then suddenly you’re gay because you’ve spat on a cotton bud and a test says you are. You are gayer than me - you used to date a girl.’
‘Yes, but that was when I was at university and while it was fun, I always knew it wasn’t meant to be.’
‘Well this is even less likely to be than that.’
‘I didn’t realise you were so homophobic.’
‘I’m not! Believe me, if I were gay, you and I would not be living together and about to get married. It’d open up a whole new world of opportunities for me and I’d be out there trying to stick my knob in a whole load of new places.’
‘That’s a
The white wooden single-storey farmhouse with a silver corrugated iron roof sprawled in several directions ahead of her. A handful of cars and trucks were parked in front of it, windows wound down but empty. For a farm, and a dusty one at that, everything looked clean and polished and a hosepipe lay next to colourful flowers planted in pots and hanging from baskets attached to eaves. Bethany was certain it had a woman’s touch. However there were no swings or slides or any children’s toys in sight, so maybe the Williamsons hadn’t started a family yet.
Several hundred metres away, she could hear the cattle braying in a huge shed and way into the distance, she thought she could just about make out a large flock of sheep so small, they looked like stationary tumbleweed stuck to a painting of the horizon.
Bethany turned to face the house, took a deep breath and marched towards the porch door, clueless as to what she was going to say but determined to make her mark regardless. She rapped the knocker until she heard footsteps shuffling inside. Eventually the door opened and a face appeared.
‘You’re not Kevin,’ she began, and took two steps backwards.
CHAPTER 19
NICK
‘Very funny, who am I really Matched with?’ Nick asked as Sally glared at the email on his mobile phone.
‘I’m not joking. Look here, it says “Nicholas Wallsworth, Ref 67775434567FFD. Your designated match is Alexander, male, London, England. Please see instructions below to discover how to access their complete profile”.’
‘Give me that,’ Nick replied and snatched his phone from her hand, unamused by her prank. But when he read the email himself, he realised Sally wasn’t kidding.
‘You’re gay,’ she laughed. ‘My boyfriend, strike that, my fiancé is gay!’
Nick re-read the email then put his phone down on the kitchen counter.
‘This is bollocks,’ he said. ‘They’ve either made a mistake or someone is having a laugh at my expense.’
‘There is no margin for error,’ Sally interrupted. ‘Well, its 99.9999997% accurate, which is far more reliable than a lie detector test.’
‘Well then there’s still margin for error, and if there’s margin for error then errors must theoretically be possible. And here’s the proof that an almighty fuck-up has been made.’
‘That would make you the first person in the world to be mis-Matched - the only person out of about one and a half billion who’ve registered. So I think you need to face facts my darling, you are a gentleman who enjoys the company of other like-minded gentlemen.’
‘Oh be quiet Sal,’ Nick replied, becoming irritated. ‘This Match Your DNA bollocks is just a money making scam otherwise they wouldn’t charge you a tenner to tell you who you’ve been Matched with. Horoscopes are more credible than this.’
‘Hey, it’s not a problem,’ Sally teased, ‘I’ve always wanted a GBFF and it turns out I’m about to marry mine.’
Nick rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not gay, all right? I think I’d have known about it by now if I were. You don’t just get to the age of twenty-seven without a single moment of attraction to another man and then suddenly you’re gay because you’ve spat on a cotton bud and a test says you are. You are gayer than me - you used to date a girl.’
‘Yes, but that was when I was at university and while it was fun, I always knew it wasn’t meant to be.’
‘Well this is even less likely to be than that.’
‘I didn’t realise you were so homophobic.’
‘I’m not! Believe me, if I were gay, you and I would not be living together and about to get married. It’d open up a whole new world of opportunities for me and I’d be out there trying to stick my knob in a whole load of new places.’
‘That’s a
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