The Dating Game Page 24

  Everyone applauded each member of the teams, with the children receiving the warmest applause. It was difficult for the girls even to clap their hands, as their elbows tended to dig into the person next to them. It proved very cramped indeed.

  The ceremony for the winners took place, and then came the interesting job of emptying the square. Everyone shuffled forward, a fraction of an inch at a time.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Angela hollered over the noise.

  ‘Don’t know. Let’s just get out of this square first and then we can make up our minds,’ Gill replied.

  ‘Which way now?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Well, do you still want to go to Barceloneta beach?’ Gill asked.

  ‘No, I think I’ve had enough of the beach. What else is there to do?’ Lisa asked, searching their faces expectantly.

  ‘Well, I quite fancied going to the El Born part of town. It’s meant to be an ‘eclectic mix of bohemian and trendy cafés, bars and restaurants,’’ Angela recited from the guidebook.

  ‘Cool. Everyone else happy to do that?’ Lisa looked at the other two.

  ‘Sure. Where is it?’ asked Debbie, craning her neck to peer at the map.

  ‘It’s not really that far. We’re already going in that direction,’ said Angela.

  The girls headed off into El Born, as Angela explained that both the Museu Picasso and Museu de la Xocolata were in this area.

  ‘Great,’ said Lisa. ‘Count me in for the chocolate museum.’

  Angela shook her head, ‘We’ll need to come back tomorrow for that. It’s only open until three on Sundays and holidays.’

  Checking her watch, Lisa said, ‘Hmm, it’s already half past three. OK, let’s go and get a drink somewhere then.’

  El Born turned out to be as diverse as the guidebook said. They chose a café and sat inside, to escape the relentless sun. Even at three thirty, the sun was still very strong and they were suffering from a little too much exposure. Debbie thought she had the symptoms of prickly heat.

  The staff couldn’t have been nicer, and it was peaceful inside, as most people wanted an outside table. Gill took the opportunity to fill in Debbie and Lisa on her ‘man situation’.

  ‘This has been such a great holiday so far, well, apart from being mugged,’ Gill amended quickly.

  ‘It has, hasn’t it?’ Debbie said taking her phone out of her bag, ‘It’s been so good, I keep forgetting to call my family! Back in five,’ and with that she walked over to the window to try to get a signal.

  Giving a deep sigh, Gill continued, ‘I just feel so relaxed. OK, I know I answered some e-mails on Friday and Saturday, but that just helped me keep on top of things and apart from that, I haven’t checked my e-mail at all.’

  ‘Apart from this morning to check on your lovers’ movements,’ Angela smiled at her.

  ‘Well, yes, apart from that. But, really, apart from the odd wee lapse, I haven’t even thought about men. I’ve been having such a good time here.’ As Gill said this, she realised it wasn’t entirely true as Anton was never far from her thoughts. She couldn’t wait to see him when he got back.

  ‘We should do this more often,’ Lisa broke in.

  ‘Yes, but we can’t all afford the time away or indeed the money, more often,’ Angela’s reply was honest, not sarcastic.

  ‘I suppose I am lucky from that perspective. No ties,’ Lisa mused.

  ‘I am too, then,’ Gill smiled at Lisa, wondering why that didn’t always make her feel lucky.

  ‘But you have the business, it’s not the same.’

  Actually Lisa was right. In many ways the business was just like having a baby.

  When Debbie returned from making her call, they drank a glass of cava each then decided they would head down to Barceloneta after all. According to the map, it wasn’t very far away. Ten minutes later, they strolled along the promenade. It was six thirty and as they were hungry, the girls wandered round to one of the restaurants Angela and Gill had spotted the day before. The huge queue, which they had reluctantly joined, seemed to dissipate fast. The aroma wafting out of the restaurant and from the plates set in front of the outside diners had the girls almost drooling. Juicy steaks, cooked to perfection prawns, crab and oysters.

  ‘Oh, I hadn’t realised I was so hungry,’ said Gill, stomach rumbling ominously.

  ‘Me neither,’ Lisa said, ‘but if you think about it, it’s been about six hours since we ate, maybe more.’

  A smartly dressed waiter escorted them to an outside table. Fans whirred from the wooden canopy overhead. After perusing the menu, the girls asked for the waiter’s recommendation. Shortly afterwards, plates bearing esqueixada covered the table, accompanied by the wine they had ordered.

  ‘What is it exactly?’ Gill asked.

  ‘Raw salt cod with peppers and onions,’ Angela nudged the plate slightly closer to Gill, who was eyeing it with distaste.

  ‘Did we not mention to the waiter that we weren’t sushi lovers?’ Gill screwed up her face.

  ‘Just try a bit,’ Debbie coaxed her.

  Gill cut off a piece, regarded it dubiously then finally popped it in her mouth. She chewed a few times and then said, ‘It’s actually not bad. A bit salty, but…’

  ‘Eh, it’s salt cod,’ Lisa said.

  ‘True.’

  The next course consisted of a mixed platter of seafood, the freshest, most enormous prawns they had ever seen, oysters, massive mussels and crab claws. The girls soon scoffed it and were ashamed to admit they still had space.

  ‘I quite fancied the stew, but I think that will have to wait until tomorrow. There’s no way I’ve got room for it,’ said Gill.

  ‘I should think not, after we’ve just eaten that ginormous platter of seafood!’ Debbie laughed. ‘Maybe it’s the sea air making you hungry.’

  ‘Maybe. Why don’t we have a wee rest and then see if we have room for dessert?’

  They did as Gill suggested and chatted about what they expected over at Montjuic that night for the fireworks.

  ‘I’ve heard the sound and light show is fantastic. I heard they synchronise the movement of the water in the fountains to the light and the music. And there’s apparently a recording of ‘Barcelona’ by Montserrat Caballe and Freddy Mercury which gets blasted out in time to the fountains,’ said Debbie.

  ‘Nobody’s mentioned that to me,’ said Lisa, ‘and Cara from the salon visited Montjuic a few months back for the light show.’

  Gill’s phone buzzed as they pored over the dessert menu half an hour later. She had already chosen crema catalana, since she’d been dying to try it for ages. Delving in her bag, she pulled out her phone and saw she had another e-mail message. Caroline Morgan. How bizarre – working on a Sunday. Maybe like Gill, she just worked every day of the week.

  ‘Hi Gill. Sorry things didn’t proceed with Mark; however, I have someone just about to complete registration who I think is right up your street. Will send details mid-week, Caroline.’

  Gill read out the e-mail to the others, who professed that to be a positive step, although Lisa said, ‘How are you going to keep track of all these blokes?’ She meant it as a joke, but Gill was beginning to wonder the same thing herself. She would need to do some serious thinking when she got back.

  Stuffed with crema catalana, Gill suggested they walk back to the Ramblas, where they could take the metro out to Plaça de Espanya, where the Montjuic fountains were. They had plenty of time. The fireworks would start around ten o’clock, but they wanted to be there beforehand, to get a good spot.

  The metro was overrun with people coming and going in all directions. At least it was only a few stops to Plaça de Espanya. The cream and red Venetian towers impressed Gill the moment she stepped out of the station. The symmetrical fountains sprayed arcs of water into the air. At the end of the rows of fountains, steps led up to another strata which housed the main fountain and looming above that, lay the majestic Palau Nacional art gallery. As the girls shuffled along the pedestrianised
walkway, it occurred to Gill that the view towards the art gallery, even in daytime, would be quite spectacular.

  Several thousand people milled around, patiently waiting for the fireworks and light show. The majority appeared to be locals, although a good mix of tourists, cameras at the ready, were also present. The girls chose a position as close as they could to where they believed the main action would take place.

  After forty minutes, even Gill’s fuse was about to blow. ‘I thought it would have started by now,’ she moaned, leaning on Angela for support. Her legs ached, as did the others’. ‘Wasn’t the light show meant to begin twenty minutes ago?’

  ‘Maybe it isn’t on during the festival?’ repeated Angela. They were on the verge of calling it a day, when music started up and lights came on in the National Gallery. The presenter said a few words and the crowd went crazy. The atmosphere was suddenly charged. Cameras flashed and then the first of the fireworks shot up in the air.

  Faster and faster, a dizzying variety of fireworks exploded into the Catalan sky. What a racket! Twenty-five minutes of non-stop noise, excitement, screams, shouts, squeals, bangs and electric ambiance. With the grand finale of the mortars, the presenter proclaimed the Mercè festival 2011 closed.

  It took a good twenty minutes for the girls to make it into the metro and onto a train. By the time they finally emerged at Liceu, they were hot and sticky and gasping for a drink. A nightcap was called for at Bar del Pi.

  They managed a brandy then headed for bed. Tomorrow would be the last day of their holiday and they intended to make the most of it.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Monday 26th September

  As they didn’t have to leave for the airport until around two thirty, the girls thought they would have a nice breakfast somewhere, before going to the Museu de la Xocolata together. They’d pick up their luggage from the hotel afterwards then take the bus to the airport. They wandered up Passeig de Gràcia and found a little café which offered delicious pastries, including the famous Catalan favourite, cabell d’àngel. Despite the heat, they decided to have hot chocolate, the house speciality. It was thick and delicious and you could have stood a spoon up in it.

  ‘This is very moreish, isn’t it?’ said Debbie, ‘Do you think they have tins of it you can take back home?’ she asked hopefully.

  Angela shook her head, ‘Sorry love, I think this is a made on the premises number.’

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ Lisa said, licking some off her spoon.

  After a leisurely breakfast, they set off on the fifteen minute walk to the chocolate museum.

  The girls regressed to childhood for a few hours, as they made their own chocolate lollipops and chocolate bars. Gill chose milk chocolate with pine nuts; Debbie, white chocolate with lime peel; Lisa, dark chocolate with raisins, and Angela went for raspberries and orange peel with dark chocolate.

  In addition to their own concoctions, the girls each bought chocolate gifts. As they walked back to the hotel, they discussed what a great experience it had been.

  ‘Hope the chocolate doesn’t melt by the time we get it home,’ worried Lisa, a major chocoholic, as they left the hotel again.

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. Anyway, just stick it in the fridge when you get home and it’ll harden again,’ Debbie suggested.

  ‘There’s a joke in there somewhere,’ Lisa never missed an opportunity.

  ‘Hysterical, Lise. Right, we best head up to the bus stop. Don’t want to miss the bus now, do we?’

  The others followed Debbie as she rolled her carry-on case behind her, up the Ramblas and onto Passeig de Gràcia.

  Before long the bus took them to the airport and after a short wait, their flight took off, homeward bound.

  As the plane soared into the air, Gill asked herself, What now?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tuesday 27th September

  ‘Janice, can you tell Angus, I’ll call him back? I’m on the mobile,’ Gill shouted through from her office.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said to the candidate she was talking to. ‘Yes, so, hopefully I should hear back by Friday about final interviews. I’ll call you to let you know.’

  Gill sat her mobile down on her desk, and running her fingers through her hair, exhaled heavily. Her break to Barcelona seemed a lifetime ago already, and she was only halfway through the day. The phones had been ringing non-stop.

  She checked her contact list for Angus’ number then dialled from her office phone. After two rings she said, ‘Angus, thanks for calling. How are you?’ Gill listened to her new employee’s questions, and when she had answered them all, said ‘Enjoy the rest of your day off. See you tomorrow.’

  Right, what do I need to attack next? Janice had left her a list of calls. Those took priority. Gill was relieved she had kept e-mails under control, as today had been pandemonium, and she still needed to work out Angus’ schedule for the next few days.

  Janice entered her office just after two and said, ‘You need to eat, you’ve been working flat out since you got in at seven.’

  ‘I know, but there’s still so much to sort out by tomorrow. I’ll eat tonight.’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ insisted Janice. ‘I’ve bought you a chicken tikka wrap and I want to hear all about your trip.’

  Resigned, Gill agreed. She probably ought to take a break away from the computer, anyway. Janice was right. Janice was always right. The thought made Gill smile.

  As they ate their lunch, Janice asked Gill all about Barcelona. She was particularly envious of the festival, having heard great things about it. When she asked about men, Gill’s response was unsatisfactory.

  ‘You’re a lot of good,’ Janice joked. ‘You go to a country full of hot men and you’re too busy pining over one back here.’

  ‘As one of my friends said, I like my men pale and interesting.’

  ‘OK, so you’re useless on that score. What about the grub? I love Spanish food – paella, chorizo, jamón Serrano.’

  ‘Oh Janice, the food was to die for. I’m sure I’ve put on at least a couple of pounds,’ Gill looked ruefully at her stomach. The waistband of the trousers she had thrown on that morning definitely felt tighter than usual. Maybe it was time to go to Weightwatchers. Janice leant forward on the table, drinking in every detail Gill told her about the Spanish cuisine, the various tapas they had tried, and the amazing restaurants in which they had dined.

  ‘I’m so jealous. Makes me want to go and book a short break.’

  ‘So why don’t you?’ Gill eyed her evenly. ‘Nothing to stop you.’

  ‘Apart from not having the cash.’

  ‘Can’t you save up?’

  ‘I suppose, but it means going without other stuff, like my weekly Chinese, or buying a new book, or a pair of trousers.’

  ‘Ah, well, when I really want something, I cut back on everything else, to make sure I can get it.’

  Gill saw everything in black and white. Pity her love life wasn’t as simple as that.

  Brushing a stray piece of wrap from her blouse onto her napkin, Gill thanked Janice for making her take a break, but said she really needed to get back to it.

  A wonderful surprise awaited Gill in her e-mail. She had been awarded three contracts she had been working on recently. Three. That was unheard of, in such a short space of time, and all for multiple candidate placements, too. It really gave her the lift she needed, post-holiday. And with Angus starting tomorrow, things were truly looking up.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Wednesday 28th September

  As usual Gill was first to arrive at the office. At least whenever she drove in to work, she tended to get a parking spot right outside. Today she felt organised and motivated. She’d gone home last night, called her mum and her brother to tell them about her trip, and then made pasta.

  After five days in Spain, she couldn’t face eating a ready meal. She was on a mission – new, healthy Gill. If possible, she wanted to try to cook at least four or five times
a week, unless of course she ate out, which when she thought about it, was fairly regularly at the moment. After watching a bit of TV, she had showered and then gone to bed with a book. When had she last done that?

  Angus arrived at ten to nine. Gill let him in, asked him to take a seat in the conference room, and offered him coffee.

  Gill chatted with him briefly and then got straight down to business.

  ‘Angus, as you can see, from a recruitment consultancy perspective, I’ve been a one-man, or one-woman band until now,’ Gill smiled at him, as she placed her mug on a coaster. ‘For such a small enterprise, the agency has a lot of clients, and whilst I was away in Barcelona the last few days, we have just won three more, so we’re going to be busy.’ Gill shuffled the papers in front of her. Angus, seated to her right, reviewed those she passed to him.

  ‘These are the accounts I want you to be responsible for initially. I’ve given you a mix of small and medium accounts for now. I’m not going to pass you any of our really big fish right away, but that will change in the next few months. There’s a lot of potential with these accounts. I’ve also highlighted in red those that I think need your immediate focus. Plus I’ve made some notes which might help you with some of the trickier customers.’

  Angus glanced up at her, ‘Sounds good.’ Looking through the list, he pointed to one or two names, indicating that he had dealt with them in the past.

  Gill went on to explain that of the three brand new customers, she intended him to be the lead on one of them. They would meet the client together the following week, but she would already start copying him in on their correspondence.

  ‘Your business cards should be here tomorrow. Janice ordered them on Friday. I’ve arranged a telephone extension for you and the desk next to Janice’s will be for you to use when you’re in the office. If this conference room isn’t booked, and Janice can tell you that, or you can check the scheduler, feel free to come in and use it, to get away from distractions. Working from a laptop does have its advantages.’