Just Two People Hitting it Off

As the four of you settle around the dining table, you make a deliberate effort to position yourself and Clara on one side, ensuring David and Zara sit together opposite. Clara catches your eye with a knowing smile as she pours the Barolo into gleaming glasses.

"So Zara," you begin, passing the antipasti platter her way first, "Clara tells me you're originally from Bristol? David spent a summer there during university—what was it, that marine biology phase?"

David nearly chokes on his wine. "Christ, Matt. I thought we agreed never to mention the dolphin incident."

Zara's eyebrows shoot up as she selects a slice of prosciutto. "Now this I have to hear."

"He volunteered at the aquarium," you explain, ignoring David's warning glare. "Thought he was going to be the next Jacques Cousteau until he accidentally fell into the dolphin pool during a school tour."

"The dolphin seemed to find it hilarious," David adds dryly, his shoulders relaxing as Zara's laughter fills the room. "Kept nudging me back underwater every time I tried to climb out."

"I've always loved Bristol's waterfront," Zara says, leaning slightly toward David. "My father had a small boat—nothing fancy, just enough for weekend fishing trips along the Avon."

"You still go back often?" David asks, his full attention on her now.

You catch Clara's eye and discreetly tilt your head toward the kitchen. She nods minutely, understanding your intention.

"I need to check on the bourguignon," Clara announces, standing with practiced grace. "Matt, would you mind helping?"

In the kitchen, Clara presses against you briefly, her lips brushing your ear. "Nicely done with the Bristol connection. They're hitting it off."

"I knew he'd had a marine biology phase, and that story is pretty funny" you admit, lifting the lid on the fragrant stew simmering on the stove. "Just seemed like a good opening."

"That's your intuition at work," Clara murmurs, her hand sliding over yours. "You've always had good instincts about people. That didn't change when... well, you know."

You listen for a moment to the conversation flowing from the dining room—David's warm laughter followed by Zara's animated voice describing some childhood adventure on her father's boat. Their voices have dropped lower, more intimate.

"Should we give them a few more minutes?" you suggest, pulling Clara closer. "For connection purposes."

"Purely professional matchmaking," she agrees with a sly grin, pressing her body against yours. The emerald fabric of her dress feels cool under your fingertips as you trace the curve of her waist.

When you finally return with the steaming pot of bourguignon, you find David and Zara sitting noticeably closer, deep in conversation about financial market regulations—a topic that would normally bore anyone to tears, but somehow they're both animated, engaged.

"—completely missed the derivatives implications," Zara is saying passionately, gesturing with her half-empty wine glass. "Which any first-year economics student could have predicted."

"God, yes," David agrees with surprising fervor. "I've been saying that for months."

You catch Clara's eye as you set down the pot, both of you fighting grins. Operation matchmaking is clearly proceeding better than expected.

"Food's ready," you announce. "Though we can serve it cold if you'd prefer to continue your fascinating discussion of market regulations."

David looks up, slightly dazed, as if he'd forgotten you were there. "Right. Food. That smells amazing."

"Clara's creation," you say, deliberately giving her the credit. "I just provided moral support and wine opening services."

As Clara serves the rich stew, you notice David casually refilling Zara's wine glass before his own—a small gesture of attentiveness you haven't seen from him with other women. When their fingers brush, neither pulls away too quickly.

You relax into your chair, catching Clara's approving nod. Sometimes the best way to connect is to create space for others to do the same.

20:15 | Friday 15 August 2025 | Matt and David's Flat, Putney