The pic of Kev on Facebook is mostly the back of a guy’s head moving and maybe laughing. In other words, you can’t tell what he looks like, really. His biog info says he goes to school in Wicklow, so it’s not like it’s going to be easy to hook up with him, because that’s miles away, in another county, and southside. Oakdale is northside and within the Dublin city limits. His DOB makes him fifteen and it pleases Dix that he’s ‘an older man’.
‘Was that not what I was looking for?’ she says, as if this is the best thing ever and proof that this is the guy for her.
Personally I am beginning to suspect she’s secretly reading romantic books or watching smushy movies and living her own life accordingly. I know I do, and it kind of scrambles my head and makes me all gooey.
‘Is he online now?’ Uggs asks.
‘Should be. He usually is.’
‘Let’s chat with him, so,’ I say.
Dixie types in some chat and sure enough this Kev is available.
HIM: Was just thinking about you!
DIX: Ditto
HIM: Great minds and all that. Was also thinking that if you give me your mobile number I can send you pics and vice versa. Much better than doin’ it on here where everyone can nosey through them.
‘See?’ she says. ‘He’s really into me.’
‘I think it’s creepy,’ I say. ‘And he should start by sending proper pics to you here online before any of this exchanging-phone-numbers business.’
‘Jen is right,’ Uggs says. ‘We don’t know who this guy is. And this is all the stuff we’ve been warned about.’
Dixie scrunches up her face in a NOT happy expression and sighs.
‘OK,’ she eventually says. ‘You two are getting so SENSIBLE.’
She does not mean this as a compliment.
‘Not everyone out there is a villain,’ she says, defensively. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to concentrate on my lonely-hearts replies.’
‘WHAT?!’ Both Uggs and I are v loud in our shock. She still has lots of wriggle room for getting into a scrape, whole wide corridors of opportunity for disazzo.
‘Did you not think I’d get some?’ she asks, in an uppity, attitudey way.
This whole scenario really is going from bad to badder.*
‘Thought you’d be thrilled!’ There’s deffo a hint of mockery creeping into her tone now. ‘At least it’s going to be someone from one of the local schools, so you can keep an eye on proceedings, if that’s what you’re both so worried about.’
Looks like we’re involved up to our armpits and beyond.
‘There’s a chap who wants to meet for coffee in the Barnacle Café. We’ll start with him.’
As I predicted, though I neglected to say it aloud to my Gang, we are all going on a date with whoever answers Dixie’s ads. Eek McEek of Eeksville!
As Uggs and I walk home I ask, ‘Should we just shop her to her family and let them deal with it?’
‘It might be too drastic a solution,’ he says. ‘She would also never, and I mean NEVER, forgive us.’
He’s right, of course.
‘If she is v impossible, and nothing else works, can we agree that we will beat sense into her?’
‘Although I am against physical violence, unless it’s on a rugby pitch, yes, yes, we will do that.’
‘For her own good.’
‘Totes.’
Of course, we would never raise a finger to anyone or any creature,† so this is all macho talk to keep ourselves calm. We are both worried sick about Dixie – who seems to be going more bonkers than she has ever been before.‡ And I am actually sick too! Double trouble for Jenneefuh …
And the irony is, of course, that we are trying to knit love hearts for Vally’s Day. SHEESH!
Yet again, I am happy to imagine a romance that can never be with Stevie Lee Bolton – it’s by far the safest sort of relationship to have with anyone.
