Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating (17 page)

Alice blew on her coffee again.

‘So, Alice.’ Sheryl licked her lips and set down her coffee cup. She minutely straightened her skin-tight skirt. ‘I don’t believe in beating about the bush. For a long time now I’ve been hearing what a faaabulous matchmaker you are. I’d like you to come and work for me.’

Alice made a funny choking sound.

‘I’d like you to resign from Table For Two with
immediate effect and join us at Love Birds. Naturally I expect your clients to follow you.’

Alice tried not to let her mouth flap open.

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that.’ Sheryl gave a small, pouty smile.

‘But what about Audrey?’ Alice asked in bewilderment. ‘What about my contract? I’ve made promises.’

‘Promises are made to be broken, every woman knows that. There isn’t a contract in the world that can’t be got out of and I bet Audrey’s are as holey as fishnets. I can get our lawyers to give yours the once-over. I see no reason why you can’t start at Love Birds on Monday.’

She gave Alice a penetrating look.

Alice clung to her coffee cup and concentrated on Sheryl’s knees.

‘I, uh, I’m not sure what to say,’ she mumbled.

‘Say yes. Whatever Audrey’s paying you I’ll double. And I’ll make you my bureau deputy.’

‘Wow.’ Alice’s mouth fell open again. Double her salary? She’d be rich. She could buy every plant in the garden centre. She could even buy herself a greenhouse; she’d always wanted a greenhouse! And bureau deputy . . .? She’d almost be in charge. Never in her wildest dreams – and some of Alice’s dreams could be quite wild – had she imagined she’d ever be as senior as that. It was amazing! ‘That’s . . .’ – she grinned broadly, unable to believe her own luck – ‘that’s very generous of you.’

‘I’m not a generous woman; I’m a businesswoman. You are a valuable asset and I need a strong wing-commander
to keep on top of the one-to-one clients whilst I concentrate on expanding our web service. Online dating’s a cash cow, and I intend to milk it dry. So . . .’ – Sheryl leaned towards Alice like a cobra leaning out of its basket – ‘as one businesswoman to another, what do you say?’

Alice’s brain was whirring. A businesswoman? She’d never thought of herself as that before. Could she really do this? Could she work for Sheryl and be a . . . a matchmaking
highflyer
?

‘Um, Ms Toogood, thank you,’ she mumbled in a daze. ‘Thank you for having such faith in me . . .’

‘It’s not faith.’ Sheryl picked up her coffee cup. ‘You can bring me clients, earn me money.’ She took a sip, her eyes fixed on Alice.

‘But what about Audrey?’ Alice said again as her bubble suddenly burst. ‘I couldn’t just leave her. She was the one who gave me my first break, my first matchmaking job. And now she’s taking me to the ball as her matchmaker in the making; I shouldn’t repay her like that! And she’d never let me take my clients . . . and I couldn’t possibly pinch them.’

From across the table she could hear Sheryl tut as she uncrossed her legs with a noisy nylon swoosh.

‘They’re not Audrey’s clients, they’re yours! You move and they’ll follow. They don’t want to be stuck with an old battleaxe like Audrey. Would
you
let her sort out
your
love life? Trust me; they’ll be like lemmings off a cliff!’

‘But they’re people with lives and dreams!’ Alice protested. ‘Not possessions to be carted around or chips to be gambled
with. And I couldn’t leave Audrey in the lurch. I’d need to give her plenty of notice so she could get everything sorted. A few months, at least.’ Alice saw Sheryl look away, a peculiar expression on her face. ‘Audrey hates recruiting new people,’ she explained. ‘By the time anyone started it would be too late. Budding relationships would have lost momentum. My clients would go back to being single and thinking they were stuck with it. And Audrey would be in a terrible way with the extra workload.’

Sheryl rolled her eyes.

‘Audrey’s tough. Like a cockroach.’

‘I’d need to give her at least six months. Otherwise it’s not fair.’

‘Oh, Alice, how sweet!’ Sheryl gave a brittle laugh. ‘Life as a big, bad grown-up isn’t fair. Sometimes the big kids nick the little kids’ sweets.’

Alice blushed and dropped her eyes to her coffee. ‘It would be the right thing to do,’ she said quietly.

‘The right thing to do!’ Sheryl threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you set up couples because you think they’ll fall in love!’

‘Of course! That’s the whole point, isn’t it?’ Alice answered in astonishment.

Sheryl stifled a small, hard smile.

‘Alice, my dahhhhling, that’s the
secondary
point. A lucky coincidence, that’s all. We’re all in it – me, Audrey, even you, although you obviously can’t see it yet – to make money first, matches second. There’s no point being the world’s best Cupid if you can’t pay the mortgage! We’re not in this
out of the goodness of our hearts; all the love stuff’s just window dressing. We’re here to make a profit. Nobody makes a deliberate love match until they’ve screwed at least six months’ fees out of a client. It’s financial madness to give them their little happy-ever-afters too early.’

Alice stared at Sheryl. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Surely everybody tried to help couples find love? That was the whole point of being a matchmaker! Making bad matches just to keep the fees coming in was horrible; it made her feel dirty just thinking about it.

‘Audrey doesn’t do that,’ Alice asserted very definitely.

‘Doesn’t she?’ Sheryl needled.

‘Of course not!’ Alice was shocked by the very idea. ‘She wouldn’t! And besides, everyone knows she matched her first five clients so well they all got married.’

Sheryl smirked.

‘Everyone knows three of them were already dating, and all five are long-since divorced.’

Alice gasped in horror. Already dating? And
divorced
? Surely not! Audrey had never said. But then again, would she? She always got a bit funny at any mention of the ‘D’ word, so much so that they’d all learned not to say it out loud in the office.

‘Besides,’ Sheryl stirred her coffee slyly, ‘has Audrey ever been that efficient since? She was wet behind the ears back then. I bet she doesn’t match anywhere near that quickly these days. In fact, I bet she hardly makes any successful matches at all.’

Alice opened her mouth to spring to Audrey’s defence,
but then slowly closed it again. It was true that Audrey’s matches invariably failed. Clients stayed on her list for ages; some of them had been there for years. But Alice had always thought it was because Audrey wasn’t very in tune with people, not because she was doing anything dodgy. Then she thought about Max Higgert and how he wanted one kind of woman yet Audrey seemed determined to match him with another.

Sheryl sighed and softened her voice.

‘Look, Alice. I think it’s wonderful that you have high ideals; that you
believe
in the calling of matchmaking. I can use this idealism. You can handle the dreams and I can handle the bank balance. You’re just what I’m looking for.’

Shakily Alice put down her coffee cup.

‘I don’t think I’m right for you,’ she said quietly.

‘Nonsense.’ Sheryl tossed her hair. ‘Now listen to me, Alice. I’m used to getting what I want, and I want you working for Love Birds within the fortnight. The look on Audrey’s face would be priceless.’

Alice tried to interject but Sheryl pushed on.

‘Look, you can hide behind your morals, but when was the last pay rise the battleaxe gave you? Has she ever given you one? Everyone knows Audrey likes keeping you at the bottom of the pile. But I’m offering you a one-hundred-percent rise and the chance to be my number two! Love Birds is growing; it’s got a future. Audrey’s a dinosaur; she’s heading for extinction.’

She reached for her coat and handbag.

‘I need to think,’ Alice said unsteadily to no one in particular. The room seemed to be spinning. The whole world seemed to be spinning.

Sheryl stood up. She towered threateningly above Alice in her stilettos.

‘You can think, but don’t you dare say no, young lady. Offers like this don’t grow on trees. I’ll give you a few days but no more. Life’s there for the taking, Alice’ – Sheryl threw on her coat with an impatient flourish – ‘. . . so take it!’

She turned on her heel and clip-clopped malignantly out of the coffee shop, letting the door bang noisily behind her.

It was nine o’clock and John had already skim-read the paper. He was sitting at his kitchen table, sipping coffee and gazing out at the garden, when the phone rang. It was Geraldine.

‘Morning!’ she chirped. ‘Good news: I’ve got another booking for you. It’s from a regular.’

His heart sank. He knew exactly what was coming. He’d been lucky to have escaped for so long.

Geraldine continued. ‘It’s Audrey Cracknell. She’s got another of her Society balls.’

John breathed tightly and tried to keep his voice even.

‘That’s great, Geraldine.’ Somehow he managed to sound halfway sincere. ‘At the Town and Country Golf Club again?’

‘Got it in one. Hold on, let me grab the details.’ As he heard her rummaging amongst her papers he tried to resist the feeling of being forced into a small, tight box.

‘Here we go,’ she chimed. ‘You’re to pick her up at 7.30 p.m. next Thursday. It’s a black-tie event, and she wants you to wear your cornflower-blue cummerbund. Apparently
it matches your eyes! Dinner will be provided, and it should be all over by midnight.’

‘No problem.’ He tried to be light. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

‘You’re a poppet,’ laughed Geraldine gaily. ‘That’s why they all keep coming back for more.’

He rang off.

‘Bugger!’ He swore out loud, causing Buster, his black retriever, to lift his head from his basket. Audrey was one of those clients who made his normally pleasant job deeply unpleasant. Even in the safety of his kitchen he could picture her face as she lingered interminably in his car whenever he dropped her off at the end of an evening. She’d look up at him with a monstrous coquettishness, like an overgrown teenager waiting for a Mills & Boon kiss.

John had tried to rationalize why he hated his end-of-night goodbyes with Audrey, and he’d got it down to this: wide-eyed girlishness was wrong on anyone too old to be called a girl. Women in their thirties and above were attractive precisely because they weren’t wide-eyed; they’d lived a bit. They had stories and opinions and battle scars and triumphs. And their experiences had taught them to hold themselves high, to rein themselves in and not to hyperventilate whenever they were within touching distance of a man. John had met many women through his work: some very experienced with men, others who hadn’t had a partner in years. But they all had dignity, or at least an inner braking system that stopped them crossing an invisible line. When Audrey turned in his passenger seat and looked up at him
through quivering, fluttering eyelashes, all he could see was her mountainous bosom heaving up and down and he’d wonder if her heavy breathing would steam up the car windows.

John shuddered.

He hated to admit it, because he prided himself on liking women – he’d chosen his job precisely
because
he liked women – but Audrey Cracknell made his skin crawl. Of course he could never bring himself to kiss her goodnight, not even on the cheek. So he’d smile, tell her he’d had a great evening and hold her gaze just long enough for her not to feel dejected. Then he’d touch his foot ever so slightly on the accelerator, just enough to suggest the idea of his leaving. Once she was on the pavement and the passenger door was finally closed he’d drive away sedately. But as soon as he turned out of her road his foot would hit the accelerator hard and he’d drive home like a reckless boy racer. It was the relief of getting away.

John tipped the remnants of his coffee down the sink. Buster’s collar jangled as he followed him around the kitchen, hoping for a walk. John ruffled Buster’s head distractedly. He cursed himself for not telling Geraldine he no longer wanted Audrey’s bookings. He’d been meaning to for years, but hadn’t had the heart to do it. He wasn’t a fool. He could see what Audrey felt for him and what their evenings meant to her. He’d have to be blind, deaf and stupid not to.

John pulled on his muddy gardening boots. Buster would have to wait. The garden beckoned.

* * *

Later, after two hours of furious digging, he felt better. He breathed deeply and drank in the fresh winter air. It was hard to stay angry when surrounded by nature. He picked up the stick that Buster had dropped at his feet and tossed it high into the air. Buster caught it with a soggy snatch of his jaws.

He’d made his decision. He would have his evening with Audrey, and he’d be the consummate professional. Only this time he’d make damn sure he rang Geraldine straight afterwards to tell her that when it came to dinner dates with a certain overly hormonal lady, he was no longer on the menu.

He nodded firmly. That was it: the plan. Thursday’s ball at the Town and Country Golf Club was Audrey’s last supper. And the cummerbund was staying where it belonged – in the loft.