Matchmaking by Appointment

Matchmaking by the Clock

Emily sat at her desk, buried in paperwork. In front of her was a daunting stack of documents reports, invoices, statements. She carefully sorted them into folders, checked figures, and made notes in her notebook. The office was quiet, with only the occasional muffled conversation coming from next door, and the gently rhythmic tapping of keys behind the partition. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting the desk with crisp stripes of light.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of her phone shattered the calm. Startled, Emily tore herself away from the papers and reached for her mobile. Mum flashed on the screen. She frowned in surprise. Her mother always called in the evening after work, not at three in the afternoon. What could possibly have happened at this hour?

She answered, pressing the phone to her ear.

Emily, love, can you come round urgently? Her mothers voice sounded uncharacteristically anxious, with a slight tremor that Emily caught instantly. Its very important!

A tight knot formed in Emilys stomach. She straightened automatically, pushing the paperwork aside as if it had suddenly become an inconvenience.

Whats happened? she asked, trying to sound calm, the worry already creeping into her voice. Are you feeling alright?

No, Im fine, her mum replied quickly, as if to banish the thought immediately. But I really need to talk to you. As soon as possible.

Emily hesitated for a moment, glancing at the documents spread out on the desk. The workday was far from over, and her to-do list was sizable. But the urgency in her mums tone left no room for argument.

Alright, she said, eyeing the wall clock. Ill be there within the hour.

The sooner the better, her mums voice dropped, taking on a hint of secretive tension. There are people waiting.

The words people waiting hung in the air, loaded with implication. Emily frowned, trying to picture the scene at home. A flurry of possible scenarios raced through her mind some serious, some just outlandish. But there was no point pressing for explanations over the phone: her mums urgent meant urgent indeed.

She gathered her things quickly, bundled up the paperwork, stuffed her phone and purse into her handbag, and pulled on her jacket. She popped into her managers office to explain; he was an understanding sort, so he let her go at once. Leaving his office, Emily swiped open her taxi app, tapped in her mums address, and confirmed the booking. While she waited for the car, she called her mum to check if she needed to bring anything. Her mother only replied briefly, No, just come.

Hurrying outside, Emily realised she was almost running. Questions buzzed in her head, but she forced herself not to get carried away with speculation. The taxi arrived within five minutes, and she slipped into the back seat and gave the address. As the car pulled away, she glanced at her watch, mentally willing the driver to make good time.

It took precisely forty minutes Emily kept an eye on her phone screen the whole way. She hardly noticed the familiar city scenery flashing past outside: rows of terraces, bold shopfronts, green squares of parkland. Her mind was entirely occupied with guessing what could have happened.

Maybe her mum had problems at work? Shed recently mentioned a difficult project with a tight deadline; everyone at her office was stressed. Was it something with Aunt Linda? The two women had always shared every bit of news the instant it happened. Or was it about a distant cousins health? Emily sifted through every possible situation, but none felt quite convincing.

When the taxi pulled up outside her mothers house, Emily paid the fare ten pounds and hurried up to the front door. She already had her keys out, but the door opened before she could use them.

About time! Her mother practically pulled her inside by the arm. Come on in.

The familiar smell of warm vanilla scones her mums signature treat for special occasions hit Emily in the hallway. She paused for a moment, breathing in. That scent always signified something cheerfulbirthdays, celebrations, happy news. But todays rush and her mothers anxious voice didnt quite fit that festive feeling.

Cautiously taking off her shoes, Emily stepped into the lounge.

Mum, whats going on? she asked, heading for the sitting room.

She stopped dead in the doorway. At the round table, laid with a pristine white cloth, sat Tom. Yes, the very same Tom Aunt Lindas son whom Emily had privately called Duffer since she was six. Hed always seemed slow, awkward, dropping things, tongue-tied. Now, he offered her a sheepish smile, tugging at his shirt collar, looking as out of place as ever.

Beside him sat Aunt Linda herself, beaming as if it was the best day of her life, her face alight with such pure joy that Emily felt thrown off for a second.

Hello, Emily, Tom stood awkwardly, trying for some confidence. Long time no see.

Indeed. And it could have been longer, Emily shot back, folding her arms, masking her surprise with indifference. Mum, why did you need me here so urgently?

Her mother appeared not to notice her tone. She fussed with the tablecloth, then the napkin, and back again.

Darling, Linda and I were thinking Youve known each other since childhood. Both grown up, independent

So? Emily stared straight at her mother, baffled. Whats that got to do with me? Mum, I left work, put people out, for *this*?

Aunt Linda, ever the eager peacemaker, chimed in:

Toms turned into a fine man! Good job, his own flat All sorted, everything youd want.

We just wanted you to have a proper chat, her mum finally ventured, meeting Emilys eyes, though her gaze was evasive. Get to know each otheragain.

Irritation boiled up in Emily. Another attempt to pair her off with some suitable bloke as if she couldnt manage her own affairs. She clenched her fists, trying to keep calm, but her words came out shaking.

Mum, she took a long breath to steady herself, I know you worry about my love life. But *I* will decide who I want to spend time with.

Tom blushed, fidgeting with his shirt like it was choking him, and tried to smooth things over:

Emily, no need to be harsh, is there? We havent even talked yet We used to get along. Youre a lovely girl, Im not half bad myself

Whats to talk about? she retorted, holding his gaze. I never fancied you, Tom. That hasnt changed. I cant pretend theres anything between us but old acquaintances.

He looked down, rubbing his hand over his collar, as if it had just got tighter.

But maybe, just maybe we could try? he mumbled. I really mean it. Id like something to work between us.

Emily closed her eyes briefly, collecting her thoughts. She didnt want to be cruel, but there was no room for dishonesty.

Tom, youre a good person. Honestly. Kind, reliable, your careers going smoothly. But that doesnt mean *we* should be together. You dont just develop feelings because other people think its right.

She felt the tension ebbing away, replaced by tired resignation. Oh, Mum, only you could come up with this!

I think Id best be off, she picked up her handbag, slipping the strap onto her shoulder. Sorry, Mum, for spoiling your plan, but its better to be clear from the start. No sense pretending.

Emily! her mother stepped forward, reaching as if to catch her sleeve. Wait We just wanted whats best.

No, Emily stopped her with a gentle but firm gesture. Lets talk later. When youre ready to listen, not just put on a show. I need to get back to work. And please, dont do this again, alright? I was worried sick.

She left the house, not waiting for her mothers reply. The door clicked softly behind her, and she found herself outside in the crisp air, fresh and sharp after the morning rain. She took a deep breathit felt like the tension eased with every lungful.

Why did her mother never leave her alone? Why always these matchmaking attempts? Didnt she realise it was pointless? Emily had always known what she wanted from life, and from her future husband: she needed someone confident, someone who wouldnt dither and avert his gaze, someone who didnt expect her to do all the chasingor worse, involve their mums in personal matters!

Still simmering, she cut through the parka shortcut shed known since childhood. Everything was as always: children running along the paths, mums with prams trading news, elderly couples soaking up the weak sun on benches. Emily dodged puddles, careful not to soak her trainers. Raindrops tumbled from branches onto her shoulders, but she barely noticed.

Not long after, her phone buzzed again. Mum. Emily hesitated, but picked up.

Emily, why did you just leave? her mothers voice was tinged more with hurt than anger, as if she felt dumped mid-conversation. I thought wed talk.

Mum, I cant marry that mummys boy just because you and Aunt Linda have been friends for years, Emily said calmly, walking on. Thats too serious to decide on the basis of your friendship.

Who said anything about marriage? her mothers voice rose a notch. I just wanted you to talk to each other! Hes decent, educated, has a steady job, doesnt drink. Hes a good lad

He is, Emily nodded, though her mum couldnt see it. Im not disputing that. Hes probably wonderful. But that doesnt mean hes right for me.

And who is, then? her mums weary voice sounded as if theyd had this conversation a hundred times. Youve been single three years. You dont go out, dont meet anyone. What exactly are you waiting for?

Im not waiting, Emily replied, pausing beside a wooden bench. I just dont want to go out with someone for the sake of it, just because you think I should. Im not against meeting people, but its got to be my choice, not yours and Aunt Lindas latest project.

Your choice is to stay home, work all hours, eat in front of the TV and see nobody except colleagues? her mums voice was heavy with disappointment. Emily, love, I just want you to be happy.

I am happy, Emily replied, sinking onto the bench. Children ran about in front of her, one trying to float a toy boat in a puddle. It just looks different for me. I love my job, I like my life. I dont need the first bloke who comes along. And I wont start something just because you wish it.

There was silence on the line. Just a faint background hissher mum must have sighed, holding the phone away. Then she spoke again, quieter, almost a whisper.

Alright. Im sorry I pushed. I just worry about you. Im afraid youll be left alone when were old.

I understand, Emily answered gently. And thats why I love youyou care. But can we skip the surprises from now on? Do you know how many disasters I imagined after your phone call?

I promise, her mum said, and Emily could tell by her voice that she was smiling again. But if you ever do meet someone who actually matterstell me first, alright?

Of course, Emily got up, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. Definitely. Now Ive got to gobusy day. Love you.

Love you too, sweetheart. Look after yourself.

Emily shoved the phone in her pocket and looked up at the sky. The clouds were slowly parting, letting through wide stretches of blue. Sunlight slipped between the gaps, gilding the edges of clouds and sending warm glints across rooftops. In the distance came the shrill laughter of girls walking together, chatting animatedly and swinging shopping bags. A man in running gear jogged past, closely followed by a ginger dog, tongue lolling in happy effort.

Emily took a deep breath of fresh air. Everyday life bustled onpeople in a rush, children playing on the swings, customers lingering over coffees in the café opposite. It all looked so normal, so reassuring, that Emily felt her mood lighten. She thought about how many different paths life could take, how many surprises awaited in the most ordinary days. How pointless it was to try and cram anyones fate into somebody elses idea of how things are supposed to be.

For the next few days, Emily deliberately avoided thinking of that awkward conversation. Work at the agency demanded nearly all her attention and energy: the team was preparing for a major project launch and the days were truly packed. Shed arrive first in the morning, leave last at night, sorting paperwork, double-checking budgets, discussing details with clients. Between meetings, she drank strong tea, quickly ate sandwiches, and dove back into work. By evening, she was so exhausted, she could only manage a shower before collapsing into bed.

Yet at night, as her flat settled into silence and the lights outside went out, her mind slipped back to that fateful afternoon: her mums worried face, Toms discomfort, Aunt Lindas beaming hope. Emily didnt feel guiltyshe knew shed done the right thingbut there was a lingering bitterness. She wished her mother understood her the first time, rather than needing things spelt out so bluntly.

On Friday evening, sifting through her emails, Emily saw a message from a colleague inviting her to his birthday party. Itll be fun, he wrote. Come meet some nice people. Great company and brilliant musicguaranteed! She hesitated, thumb hovering on the screen. Part of her wanted to just curl up on the sofa after such a hectic week. But itd been ages since she went anywhere except work or the supermarket, and the loneliness had started creeping in.

Oh, why not? she decided, replying, Ill be there.

The party was in a cosy café on the city edgesmall but stylish, with exposed brick walls, wooden tables, and plush sofas under the windows. When Emily arrived the place was already buzzing. The air was thick with the smells of coffee, pastries, and faint perfumes, the low murmur of jazz blending with voices and laughter.

She spotted the birthday boy nearly at once, hands waving as he told a joke by the bar. When he saw Emily, he grinned and hurried over.

Hey, you made it! he exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. Thought youd cry off.

Thought I should get out for a bit, Emily replied with a smile. Happy Birthday, by the way!

They exchanged a few words about work; then he nodded towards a table by the window. Go and sit with that lot, theyre a good crowd. Ive got to sort a few things but Ill pop over.

Emily grabbed a glass of orange juice from a passing waiter, glanced around for a seat, and joined the group at the suggested spot. The conversation was animatedsomeone was telling a joke and everyone was in stitches. Emily slid into an empty chair, greeted the group, and listened in, slowly unwinding as she joined the friendly buzz.

Hi there, said a young man beside her, smiling in an open, easy way. You must be Emily? Im Ben, Marinas colleague.

Thats me, she nodded, returning the smile. Nice to meet you.

I saw you at a meeting a couple weeks back, Ben said, settling into the seat next to hers. Youre leading the GlobalTech project, right?

She was surprisedstaff from different departments rarely took much notice of each other.

Thats me, she admitted. And what do you do?

Im in analytics. Did the forecasts and risk models for your lot.

The conversation flowed easily. Ben wasnt just sharp at work; he was genuinely interesting to talk toattentive, asking good questions and making just the right witty comment to make Emily laugh, more in that one evening than she had in weeks.

After a while, the café grew noisya boisterous group at the next table broke out in raucous laughter. Ben glanced towards the door.

Shall we get some fresh air? Its hard to hear yourself in here now.

Emily agreed. Outside, the night was cool and still; the noise of the city floated from afar, with a sprinkle of stars above them. They stopped by a low wall, watching the traffic rumble past.

What do you like to do in your spare time? Ben asked, leaning on the rail.

Reading, walks, Emily replied, choosing her words. Ill sometimes catch a film if theres a good one. You?

Im a travel junkie, his eyes lit up, his voice gaining life. Went to Georgia last yearcompletely blown away. The mountains, the vineyards, the people it all felt so genuine.

Emily turned to him, genuinely interested. Go on, tell me more!

Ben launched into story after storynarrow alleys in old Tbilisi, the scent of fresh bread, mountain treks where every step mattered. When he described the locals inviting him to dinner like an old friend, she could almost picture it for herself.

And you? Favourite holiday? Ben asked, when hed finished.

The seaside, Emily grinned, remembering her last trip. I love the sound of the waves and the salty breeze. But I only manage to get away once every couple of yearswork has a way of taking over.

Well have to fix that, he winked playfully, no hint of pressure. Maybe next time we go together?

She hesitated, not expecting such a direct offer. Then she laughed.

Thats bold!

Honest, too, Bens smile was easy and open. I like you, Emily. Id like to know you better.

She studied him for a momenthis eyes held no hint of desperation or bravado, just straightforward interest and a cheerful calm. It was refreshingly pleasant.

Lets give it a go, she nodded at last. But in our own time, alright?

As you wish, he smiled, all relaxed good humour. Can I take you for coffee tomorrow? No rush, just a chat.

Alright, Emily felt a gentle warmth flow through her chest. Lets.

When she got home, barely inside the door, her phone rang again. Mum flashed up. This time, Emily picked up without hesitation.

Hello, Emily darling, how are you? Her mother sounded tentative, as if treading on eggshells.

Great, Emily replied, sinking onto the sofa, still smiling from her evening. I went out to a colleagues do. Met someone.

Really? There was real surprise and a little curiosity in her mums tone. Whats he like? Tell me everything!

Hes nice, Emily laughed, picturing Bens face if he could hear this. Clever, funny, quick with a joke. And best of allhe sorts out his own life without running to his mum.

Her mum burst out laughing, the tension in her voice forgotten.

Im glad for you. So all my worrying was for nothing?

Emily paused, wanting her mother to understand her truly, without assumptions.

Not for nothing, she said more seriously. You do care about me, and I treasure that. But try not to stress so much anymore. I really can handle things myselfhonest.

Alright then, her mum said after a short pause, sounding relieved. Love you.

And I love you, Emily replied warmly.

She put her phone down and gazed out the window. The lights of the city sparkledyellow, orange, white, stretching away in a shimmering web. Cars prowled the distant roads, leaving trails of red and white. The subdued sounds of the evening drifted uplaughter, fragments of conversation, a faint melody somewhere far off.

Emily drew in a deep, peaceful breath. That evening, the talk with her mum, meeting Benit was all coming together into something new, a life not quite familiar but pleasantly different. She didnt know what would happen next, but for now, she was content, knowing that life, at its own pace, held unexpected chances.

The city lights still glimmered outside while Emily sat on her sofa, watching the quiet dance of the evening, and feeling, at last, that everything was working out as it ought to.