Free This London Love by Clare Lydon

will stop moaning at me. Maybe.”
    Meg took the lid off her coffee and blew on it before taking a sip. “If you could ask my mum to do the same, that would be great.”
    ***
    They shared a conspiratorial smile about parental woes, and Kate held Meg’s gaze for way longer than was necessary for a flower consultation. But Kate couldn’t take her eyes off of Meg. No matter what she did, her vision was always drawn back, her eyes not satisfied until they’d soaked up a little bit more. She could stare at this view for hours.
    Kate snapped out of her reverie as Meg opened her popcorn bar. “Thanks for the food, too — my brother brought me a croissant earlier but I’m still starving. It’s been a long day already.”
    Kate opened her bar. “You put me to shame. I’ve only been up an hour and a half. And even then, I woke up with the crushing realisation I’m going to be single forever.”
    Oh, hello — where had that comment come from?
    Meg sat back in her chair and moved the brochures to one side, giving Kate the once over. “Why’s that then?” she asked. “I mean, I’ve only met you twice, but you seem presentable and sane. You should have a list of suitors at your door.”
    Kate snorted. “Maybe they got the wrong address.” She paused. “It’s just on my mind right now because I’ve been single for a while and oh my god, I’m really over-sharing again, aren’t I? I’m not normally like this, honest. There’s clearly something about this place that brings it out of me.” Which was mildly disconcerting, to say the least.
    Meg waved her hand, telling Kate it was fine. “I’m right there with you, so I get it.”
    Kate sat up. Right there with you. What did that mean? That Meg was single? That she was gay? What did it mean?
    Kate took another sip of her coffee. “I was set up last night with a friend of a friend.” How should Kate tell the rest of the story? In gender-neutral pronoun form, or should she out herself straight away? She had to decide, there was no time to formulate a plan.
    “So yeah, I was set up for drinks last night — I took my friend and they took theirs.” Kate wasn’t feeling brave enough yet. “And while my date was attractive and had a good job, they just weren’t my type, you know?”
    Kate’s cheeks hissed red as she scanned Meg’s face for any sign of reaction to the use of ‘they’ rather than ‘he’ or ‘she’. She couldn’t detect one. She ploughed on. “But the end result — another failed date.” Kate ran her finger up and down the side of her cardboard cup.
    “Sometimes I think I should just give up and stay in. Take up knitting. But then something like this happens to my uncle and it makes me think I need to start getting out and living a bit more. And clearly part of that remit is to get way too personal on the second meeting with my florist.” Kate held up both palms and flashed Meg an apologetic smile. “I really am sorry for blurting out my life story to you. I’m going to drink some coffee now so my mouth can’t talk anymore.”
    Kate sat back with her cup, staring at the table. So she’d come into the florist with the intention of ordering flowers while giving off an air of self-assurance. And within 15 minutes she’d blurted out she was single and doomed to a life of spinsterhood. Genius .
    But when Kate looked back up at Meg, all she saw was warmth, along with a beautiful smile.
    “So what exactly is your type?” Meg wasn’t laughing at Kate, she seemed genuinely interested. “Just so I know what to look out for on your behalf.” Meg shuffled some papers on the table that didn’t need shuffling.
    Kate smiled back shyly. “Warm, friendly, two eyes, nose, mouth.”
    “Fussy,” Meg said.
    Kate let out a bark of laughter. “So my sister would say. And my flatmate. And my boss.”
    “That’s a lot of fussy.” Meg sipped her coffee and contemplated. “You know what I think?”
    Kate sucked on the inside of her cheek. “No,