The Dating Game Read online

  With that thought and after demolishing the last morsel of her lunch, Gill dabbed at the edge of her mouth with a tissue and said,

  ‘Actually I might leave a bit earlier tonight. Miss the traffic that way. I’d get so much more done at home without interruptions.’

  Janice’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re leaving early?’

  ‘Yes, think so, why?’

  ‘It’s just you haven’t left early since dinosaurs last roamed the Earth.’

  ‘Very funny. I just feel like being spontaneous for a change. My last appointment’s at three. You OK to lock up later?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Right, well, I best go and prepare for my one thirty then,’ said Gill, picking up his CV and her latte, as she crossed to Meeting Room One.

  In reality, she wanted time to herself to figure out what should go in her dating profile. Even though she didn’t know what would be expected of her, she began composing a physical description of herself in her head, then her likes and dislikes and most importantly, what she was looking for. What was she looking for? Friendship and perhaps something more? Someone to have a kiss and a cuddle with and in time, rampant sex? A deep and meaningful relationship?

  The wall clock read ten past one. Before she could change her mind, Gill dialled the number she’d memorised from Happy Ever After’s website. It rang six times and then the answering machine kicked in, informing her they were at lunch, but if she would like to leave her details and a message, her call would be returned as soon as possible. After a moment’s hesitation, whilst she pondered the lack of professionalism in not having anyone available during lunchtime, Gill managed to stammer out a short, not terribly eloquent message and left her mobile number. She couldn’t get off the phone quickly enough. She hoped she’d done the right thing. Oh well, too late now. She picked up the next candidate’s CV, glancing briefly at her watch as she did so. Fifteen minutes. If he wasn’t prompt, he could forget being put forward for interview. Punctuality was key in Gill’s world, and there was no place in the current job market for tardiness.

  ‘That’s your candidate here,’ Janice’s voice burst into her thoughts,

  ‘Send him in, please. Thanks Janice.’

  Thank goodness the day was over and the weather had cleared up. Now that Gill had made up her mind, she was determined to pay a visit to Happy Ever After’s offices in Park Circus, which fortunately she could walk to from the office. Thinking she may as well get some exercise, too, Gill set off at a brisk pace on the twenty minute walk.

  Smoothing down her chestnut curls with some fixing product and checking her reflection in the wing mirror of a handily positioned transit van, to satisfy herself she had nothing stuck between her teeth, Gill decided she was ready. Looking left and right, to ensure no one she knew was passing, Gill sped up the stairs of the Georgian townhouse which housed Happy Ever After’s dating agency.

  She recognised the foyer from the website, all Italian cream marble. It would have appeared clinical if not for the array of potted plants, and strategically placed vases of flowers dotted around. Behind a balsawood desk sat a perky, pretty receptionist.

  ‘Good afternoon. Welcome to Happy Ever After, how can I help you?’ the girl smiled at Gill.

  ‘Hi Millie,’ said Gill, reading the receptionist’s name badge on her jacket, ‘I was hoping to see a consultant.’

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’

  ‘No, although I did leave a voicemail at lunchtime.’

  ‘Oh, you must be Gill McFadden. I passed your message to Caroline Morgan, the director. She’ll have you on her call back list, if she hasn’t rung you already.’

  ‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Gill, pulling her phone out of her bag. Missed call, one new message. As Gill listened to her message, she nodded at the girl, smiling. Ending the call she said, ‘That was Miss Morgan, asking me to contact her at my earliest convenience. I suppose that would be now,’ Gill pushed her luck.

  ‘We-ell, we close at five thirty and a consultation does generally last between an hour and ninety minutes, but let me check,’ the receptionist said, her nails tapping away on her Mac.

  ‘She doesn’t seem to have any appointments at the moment. Let me just see if she is able to see you,’ and she disappeared through a door to her left.

  Gill breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken a lot of guts to drag herself here. Now she was through the door, she just wanted to get it over with. She was dying to go to the toilet, but she didn’t dare leave the reception area, in case this Miss Morgan did a runner. No doubt she wanted to miss the traffic, too.

  The receptionist returned moments later - ‘Miss Morgan can see you now,’ - and holding the door for her, she invited Gill to precede her into a corridor with a thick, burgundy, pile carpet.

  ‘It’s the door at the end,’ she added. Gill looked at her, uncertain.

  ‘On you go, she won’t bite,’ the girl smiled at her reassuringly. Gill wasn’t so sure of that. Swallowing down her discomfort, and thrusting her shoulders back, she headed towards the door, which read Director. Taking a few deep breaths for courage, she rapped firmly.

  ‘Come in,’ she heard a voice call from inside.

  No going back now, she thought. Turning the handle slowly, she opened the door, which gave into a bright and airy room, at the centre of which sat an enormous walnut desk. Seated behind the desk was a woman Gill bet hadn’t needed to resort to a dating agency. Caroline looked as if she were of Swedish descent. Even sitting down, you could tell she wasn’t much short of six feet tall and she glowed with health. Probably didn’t even go to the gym, preferring outdoor activities; kayaking, mountain climbing, or extreme sports were the first three options that came into Gill’s head, as she daydreamed. The vision rose from her chair to greet her. ‘Caroline Morgan, nice to meet you,’ and she offered Gill a warm smile. Her accent did indeed have a trace of Nordic about it, even if her surname didn’t.

  Gill was aware that she was staring, not really sure what to do. She rarely became tongue-tied, but today proved an exception. Mumbling, she extended her hand until it met with Caroline Morgan’s own. She couldn’t help noticing the huge solitaire which adorned her left hand. She wasn’t single then, either that, or it was for effect. It worked.

  Caroline gestured for her to be seated and Gill sank into the leather swivel chair opposite her desk. Somehow she had imagined it would be all open plan design, with squashy sofas.

  ‘Thanks for dropping by. It was lucky I could see you. Some people lose their nerve if they have to come back,’ Caroline smiled, her mouth upturning at the corners.

  Gill stifled a laugh. No kidding!

  ‘I thought I would start off by telling you a little bit about the agency, our history and why we are so good at what we do. Then I’d like to find out as much about you as possible, what you like, what you want from life, what you’ve done so far, etc. How does that sound?’

  It sounded to Gill much as she did when she interviewed candidates, albeit she was asking them different questions.

  ‘That sounds fine,’ Gill managed.

  Caroline then began to tell her about their services.

  ‘We like to think we’re a friendly agency. We realise how difficult it can be to meet someone nowadays, with similar tastes who hasn’t already been snapped up. But, it can happen. And we can help.’

  Caroline ran through what Gill could expect for her monthly membership fee; how many introductions she could expect, between twenty to thirty-five per year. Gill felt exhausted just listening to her.

  ‘Now, I’d like to try and build up a profile of you, so just relax and try to be as honest as possible.’ Caroline glanced at a sheet of paper in front of her and said, ‘Are you sporty?’

  After a momentary hesitation, Gill replied, ‘Well, I’m a member at Pritchards Health Club.’

  ‘So, you like going to the gym,’ Caroline stated. ‘Do you do cardio and weights, or do you do classes?’

  Given that it had actually
been three years since Gill last graced the gym with her presence, apart from the odd occasion when she went for a swim and a sauna with the girls at the weekend, Gill struggled with this. ‘Classes. Body Pump,’ she lowered her gaze, hoping Caroline didn’t scrutinise her too closely. Anyone who looked at her would know that with her bingo wings, there was no way she went to Body Pump regularly. It was true that she had gone once, but it had almost killed her and she could barely get off the couch for two days. The only time she had been off sick in five years.

  ‘Excellent,’ Caroline said, making note. ‘Anything else?’

  The way she said it made Gill feel that one activity was too little, so fumbling around for something recent she had heard of, she offered up, ‘Zumba. I love Zumba.’

  ‘Wonderful.’

  Well Gill did love Zumba, or rather the idea of it. She had gone as far as signing up for a class once, but had had to work late that night and life had got in the way ever since.

  ‘Musical interests?’

  Clutching at straws, Gill blurted out, ‘Well, I did play the recorder, but it was a long time ago.’

  ‘No, no, no, I meant types of music you like to listen to, not instruments you play,’ Caroline clarified.

  Gill wasn’t sure if Caroline was trying to hide a smirk about her recorder comment.

  Gill knew very little about modern music, and hadn’t listened to the charts in years. The presenters on local and national popular radio stations annoyed her so much she preferred to listen to her own playlist on her iPod in the car.

  ‘Well, my tastes are pretty eclectic. I like most things, apart from house, hip hop and thrashy rock.’

  Caroline seemed content with her answer and moved on to the next point. Likes and dislikes in food. Did she watch TV? What kind of programmes? Did she go to the cinema? She did, but she reckoned the last time had been for a Harry Potter film. When had that been released? She loved the flicks, but rarely had the time to go. The problem, as ever, was work. Being a recruitment consultant was terribly hard work, with exceptionally long hours, and the industry was very cut-throat. Often unrewarding, but when she placed the right candidate with the right employer, she felt a warm glow, as if all was finally right with the world. The calls of gratitude and the occasional bottle of wine from a well-placed candidate or client made it all worthwhile. She particularly loved when she placed someone who had been out of work for a while. The recession, which seemed to be stretching on and on with no respite in sight, put previously considered excellent candidates, into the category, of ‘one of many’. The shock they felt when they realised that they weren’t as employable as before and more than likely were going to have to settle for a much lesser salary was almost palpable.

  Gill suddenly realised that Caroline was studying her intently. ‘Are you all right?’

  Damn, she’d been day-dreaming again. Gill assured Caroline she was fine and they rattled through the rest of her likes and dislikes until Caroline had compiled a complete profile.

  ‘Now, I also need a photo for your profile,’ Caroline said easily.

  Excellent, Gill thought. She hated having her picture taken, but of course, the agency needed a pic of her. She knew she couldn’t decide now, and she seriously hoped Caroline wasn’t about to suggest that she take her mugshot there and then, as although she looked well-groomed and professional, unless she tossed her hair around, stood in front of a fan and unbuttoned a couple of buttons on her blouse, she wasn’t going to ooze sex-appeal.

  ‘Can I e-mail that to you?’ Gill asked hopefully.

  ‘Of course. Last thing we need to do is get your signature on these forms,’ Caroline pushed a contract and a direct debit instruction across the desk to Gill, offering her a Mont Blanc pen to sign with. Crikey, business must be good. Those pens cost a bomb, thought Gill. She signed her name, with a mixture of dread and excitement.

  ‘So by Thursday at the latest, I will have compiled your profile. I’ll e-mail it across and if you’re happy with it, we can proceed. Any changes you wish to make, just let me know and we can have those done ASAP. Once we receive your photo, we’ll set about arranging your first introduction. How does that sound?’

  Exciting. Handing over her credit card to Caroline so she could process the exorbitant joining fee, even with the fifty percent off, Gill couldn’t help but hope that it would all be worth it.

  As Caroline ushered her out of her office, reminding her to send the photo as soon as possible, Gill was already panicking over which photo to choose.

  Chapter Three

  Gill had a lot of work to catch up on, not used to leaving the office early. Kicking off her heels, she switched on the kettle, opened the freezer and took out a low calorie ready meal. Popping it in the microwave and turning it to full power, she methodically checked through her e-mails on her phone. Moving into the living room, she tidied up a little as she crossed to her laptop, which was resting on the low coffee table near the chocolate leather sofa she favoured. She barely used the sofa nearest the kitchen. She lived alone after all. Reaching down, she switched on her laptop at the mains, powered it up and watched it spring into life. It was all very well reading e-mails on a smartphone, but she wasn’t getting any younger and her eyes often grew tired.

  Gill walked through to the bathroom, located her contact lenses solution and took out her lenses. She hated wearing them, but apart from constantly donning her glasses, the alternative was laser eye surgery. Although she knew others who had happily had it done, she just wasn’t brave enough. Her brother’s best friend, Adam, had become remarkably good-looking after laser eye surgery. It was amazing how different he looked without glasses. And Adam had always had a crush on her. Gill had always liked Adam, even if not in a romantic sense. Boy had that changed. Pity that his new, sexier self also drew lots of attention from other women. Gill wasn’t even on his radar anymore.

  Gill checked through her work e-mail, pulling up CVs for the candidates she would be meeting next day. A few new applications had come in for a high-profile role she was handling. The employer, a household name in the oil and gas industry, and one of her biggest clients, was being really finicky, constantly changing their mind about what they wanted. After saying they would consider candidates from outside the industry, they had summarily dismissed three of the four submissions Gill had sent them two weeks ago and hadn’t returned any of her phone calls or e-mails since. She knew they were busy, but sometimes Gill wondered where these people got off. It was so unprofessional.

  Although Gill herself didn’t always have time to reply to every applicant, telling them they had been unsuccessful, or they weren’t being considered, she did try her best, as she really felt for them. When possible, she advised when they had people with experience more closely matching the client’s brief than theirs, but in these straitened times, she had more applicants than she knew what to do with. It took her all her time to view their CVs, or trawl through those which arrived via the various job sites, in response to their ads. And that was her working pretty much round the clock. She needed to think seriously about taking on someone else. The agency was doing well, but she could bring more business on board if she had more staff. Maybe she would get some of her life back, too. It had been embarrassing today, realising that she didn’t really have any hobbies, as she had no time for them. Something had to change.

  Her most urgent work tasks finished, Gill pondered where she was going to get a photo, of just her, which was respectable enough and sexy enough, without being too overt, which she could put on her dating profile? When had she looked her best? Hair up, hair down? An occasion like Michael and Sarah’s wedding, where she was all made-up and wearing a dress, or no makeup and wearing a t-shirt? Maybe something in-between, not too casual, not too formal – but not businesslike? Perhaps on a night out with the girls, before they started on the cocktails? She scrolled through the photographs. There! Got it – a smiling Gill beamed out at her. Tanned, slightly slimmer, happy, not a single sign of f
atigue. The girls’ trip to Kos. They’d chosen a villa away from the hubbub. They’d partied a little, eaten out a lot, chatted, reminisced and generally had an excellent time. Debbie had convinced Gill to take some time off work, and made her promise only to check her e-mails for an hour each day, so she would have the break she so needed. Angela had taken the photo, she recalled, just after they ordered starters at Yannis’ Taverna. She remembered sampling the region’s famous rosé wine, which they had loved so much, they had gone on to visit the Hatziemmanouil vineyard later in the holiday.

  Wearing a blue spangly top, and with her hair hanging loosely down her back, her soft curls framing her face, Gill thought she looked quite pretty. Lisa, of course, had done her hair and makeup that evening, always keen to show off her beautician skills, particularly on a blank canvas like Gill, whom she always moaned didn’t make the most of herself. Lisa felt that she hid behind her professional clothes too often and applied the bare minimum of makeup.

  Before she could change her mind, Gill attached the picture, which she thought gave the right impression. The dates didn’t need to know she didn’t always look like that. And when she did go on a date, naturally she would make a special effort.

  After adding a brief note to Caroline, she pressed Send, shut down her computer, grabbed her mobile, turned off the lights, and headed for bed.