The Dating Game (12 page)

Sean rose and greeted Dougal, slapping him on the back and
hugging him.  Suddenly, remembering where he was, he turned to Gill and said,

‘Sorry, Gill, this is an old friend of mine from home,
Dougal.  Dougal, this is Gill.’

‘I’m not that old,’ said Dougal, as he pumped Gill’s hand up
and down.  His hands were like shovels and her own slender hand disappeared in
Dougal’s vast paw.

‘So what are you two youngsters up to today then?  A spot of
lunch, is it?’

Gill guessed Dougal’s age as early fifties.

‘Yes, starters should be arriving any second,’ Sean told his
friend.

‘Well, I won’t keep you from your lunch, but Sean, give me a
call.  Here’s my business card. I’m in town all next week.’

After giving the card a cursory glance, Sean pocketed it. 
‘I will so.  What are you up to in here then?’

‘Oh, just meeting a few old friends.  Didn’t realise I’d be
bumping into even older friends!  I was looking for the toilet, but I don’t
think it’s over here.’

‘No, it’s by the door, when you come in.’

‘That’s what I get for not paying attention.  Too busy on my
phone.  Oh, here’s your meal now.  I best be going.  Enjoy.’

Gill muttered a goodbye to Dougal as the waitress set their
plates in front of them.

‘That smells amazing,’ said Sean, eyeing up Gill’s plate
then staring forlornly at his
Caprese
salad.

Gill stifled a laugh.  Sean obviously regretted ordering the
salad, which to be honest, also looked delicious.

‘Would you like to swap?’ Gill offered.

‘Oh no, no, you’re fine,’ said Sean.  His eyes conveyed a
different message.

‘OK, well, why don’t we share the starters then?’

Sean’s face lit up like a five-year-old who has been told he
can stay up late.

‘That would be grand.  Would you like me to divide them up?’

‘Sure.’ 
This could be interesting
, thought Gill,
on
two counts
.  First of all, would he divide them easily and offer her to
choose, or give her the larger portion?  Secondly would he make a hash of it?

But Sean more than capably split the
involtini
in
two; it was really one huge
involtini
.  Then he divided the tomatoes,
mozzarella
and even managed to position the basil carefully on top of each to form a
trio.  It looked almost identical to the original presentation.

‘Well done,’ said Gill.  ‘I’m impressed.  If I had done it,
half of the contents would have been on the floor and the rest would look as if
a child had been smushing up its dinner!’

‘That’s a great word,
smush
.’

‘Yes it is, isn’t it?’

‘I also like sploonging.’

‘Sploonging?’

‘Yes, it means soaking wet.’

‘Is that an Irish word?  I haven’t heard that before.’

‘No, it would appear that it’s a word only used in my
family, although I could swear blind that I remember other people using it when
I was growing up, but there’s no record of it anywhere.’

‘Not even on Google?’

‘No, on this occasion, I’m afraid to say, Google failed me.’

Gill laughed.  He was so earnest.  Sean really was fun to be
around.

‘More wine?’ he asked, as he raised the bottle.

‘Not for me thanks.  I’ve still half a glass left.’

‘OK so.  Next time.  Don’t let me forget,’ and he winked at
her.

They chatted easily over their starters, which they enjoyed,
but both awaited the arrival of the
porchetta
with anticipation.

‘I’m looking forward to this,’ said Sean. ‘I’ve heard about
it.  I’m glad that party cancelled. Their loss is our gain and all that.’

Gill agreed.  She was still hungry, or maybe her stomach was
rumbling from nerves.

When the main course arrived, they both stared in awe.  The
head waiter carved it in front of them.  It smelled absolutely amazing.  Gill
felt sure the smell of suckling pig would be clinging to her clothes by the
time she left, but she didn’t care.  It completely assailed her senses.

The first few mouthfuls confirmed her suspicions – it was
glorious.  A hush fell over the table as they tucked into the
porchetta
,
the only communication Sean rolling his eyes, indicating his enjoyment of the
dish.  Sean topped Gill’s glass up once it was nearly empty, drained the
remainder of the bottle into his own glass then signalled to the waiter to
bring another bottle.

Once the waitress had cleared away their plates, Sean
declared that he was as stuffed as the pig they had just eaten.  Gill who had
left some, rather than feel uncomfortably bloated, also announced that she was
full.  When the waitress returned with dessert menus, they politely declined
and asked for a break before coffee.

‘So you go to Body Pump? Sean asked, as he set his wine glass
back down on the table.

‘Well,’ should she lie or tell the truth?  Truth.  ‘I’ve
been to Body Pump.’

‘What, it wasn’t your thing?’ Sean leaned towards her
conspiratorially.

‘Not really, plus I couldn’t move for three days because of
the pain.’

‘Yeah, that ties in with what people at work have said about
it.  I prefer my sports outdoors, although I have been to a gym.  But it’s
usually full of vain ponces.  I’m only talking about the guys here.  Now the
girls, that’s something else.’

Gill was marginally taken aback by him referring to ogling
other women so blatantly in front of her.  She decided two could play that
game.  Although she wasn’t remotely jealous, she did think it poor form to talk
about other women whilst on a date, a first date at that, with someone else.

‘Well, to be honest, the only enjoyable part about Body Pump
was seeing the guys pump iron.  It’s quite a turn-on,’ she said daringly.

Sean’s eyes just about popped out of his head.  He went to
start a sentence but was so tongue-tied he came to a complete halt, before
stammering, ‘Er, right.’

Now it was Gill’s turn to lean in towards him, ‘I’m joking.’

His relief apparent, as he could in no way be described as a
body builder, even if he was fit, Sean smiled, ‘Ah, you had me there.’

Gill raised her glass to him and feeling bolder by the
minute, said, ‘So tell me Sean, what’s
your
idea of romance?’

A cornered animal would have appeared less hunted.  But he
had put in his profile that he wanted to meet a woman he could romance, so Gill
was putting him to the test.

‘You want me to tell you now?’

‘Well I could wait until next Tuesday, but where’s the fun
in that? Gill toyed with him.

‘OK, OK.  Let me think, because there’s not just one thing
and it depends on who the woman is, and her likes and dislikes and what stage
you are at in your relationship,’ Sean floundered.

Gill laughed. ‘I’m only playing with you.’  Then realising
what she had just said, by the colour Sean had turned, she amended that to,
‘but if you already have an idea you want to share, that’s fine by me.’

‘OK, well, I like all the traditional stuff, Valentine’s
Day, Eiffel Tower, Venice etc, cuddly teddy bears, chocolates, flowers, but I
also like to do things which are more surprising.’

Gill thought this could mean anything, good or bad, so she
pressed him.

‘For example?’

‘Well if I was in a relationship, I might buy my girlfriend
a new dress or some expensive toiletries and have the bath ready when she got
home from work, so she could relax.  Then she could wear the new dress I’d just
bought her when I took her to a newly opened restaurant. 

‘That does sound thoughtful,’ said Gill. 
And too good to
be true
, she thought.  So, as Sean was handsome, funny, romantic and
charming, she couldn’t figure out why he needed to use a dating agency.  Why
didn’t he have a girlfriend?  He clearly wanted one.

‘What about you?  What would be your ideal romantic date if
you were in a relationship?’

Thinking Sean’s idea was perfect, but not wanting to scare
him off by telling him that too soon, Gill described her scenario.  She
outlined how they each took a day of the weekend to surprise the other,
planning activities that they knew their partner would enjoy and that weren’t
always necessarily to the giver’s taste.  It was all about selflessness.

‘Wow!  My plan feels tame now in comparison,’ said a
dejected Sean.

‘Not at all – I just took it a step further.’

Sean ordered a third bottle of wine, before continuing.

Gill glanced at her glass.  She didn’t remember drinking much
and they were on their third bottle.  How had that happened?

Her reverie was broken by Sean hiccupping loudly.  She
studied him closely.  Was he pissed? She felt fine.  Had he drunk the majority
of the two bottles of wine? 

When the waitress arrived with the third bottle of wine, she
took the liberty of ordering them both coffee.

As they talked about their favourite films, Sean became
louder and louder, provoking startled and disapproving glances from the
surrounding tables.  The waitress returned and asked if they would prefer to
have their coffee in the bar.  Noting the disgruntled looks of the other
diners, Gill said that would be fine, but felt downright mortified.  She didn’t
know Sean well enough to tell him to keep his voice down, but neither did she
want to be stared at by angry diners.

‘Sean, let’s go and have our coffee in the bar.’

‘I’m perfectly happy here,’ he slurred.

Oh Christ, he really is pissed
.  Gill didn’t know
what to do.  ‘Sean, they’re really busy and could use our table,’ was her next
tack.

‘Well we booked the table.  They didn’t tell me it had to be
given back by a particular time.’ He was borderline belligerent now.

‘Sean, the waitress is bringing our coffees out to the bar. 
Get a wriggle on,’ she finally said.

‘Oh, OK then,’ he said sheepishly.

Relieved, Gill headed for the bar.  Why hadn’t she noticed
how much he had been drinking?  She turned at a noise behind her.  Sean had
crashed into two stools and knocked them over, then fallen over another and
landed on a heap on the floor.

Brilliant
, thought Gill. 
That’s all I need
. 
As she made her way back to assist him, a passing waiter helped him to his feet
and asked him if he was all right.

‘I’m perfectly all right – why wouldn’t I be all right?’

Could this
get
any worse? Gill wondered.

Realising that any warmth she had felt towards Sean had
dissipated on witnessing the change in him, she sat on the edge of her bar
stool and accepted the coffee the barista handed her.  Sean ignored his,
favouring the wine glass he held onto.  He’d asked the waiter to bring the
bottle of wine from their table.

What a pity.  She’d had such a great time, up until Sean had
become so drunk as to be no longer personable, and indeed an embarrassment. 
She couldn’t wait to finish her coffee to make her excuses.  Her thoughts were
jarred, however, by Sean saying,

‘So, where do you want to go from here, Gill?’

She wasn’t sure if he meant it figuratively or literally,
but had already made her mind up she was heading home, in the next ten minutes.

‘Actually Sean, it’s getting late and I have a lot of work
to do.  Do you mind if we just finish up here and get the bill?’

‘Aw,’ Sean said.  For a minute he was transformed into a
lost little boy and she felt a fleeting affection for him.

Who comes to a first date and gets plastered?
she
thought.  Even if he was nervous, there was no need to drink that much.  Look
at the state of him now.

‘I’ll get the bill,’ he said.

‘Let’s split it,’ said Gill.

‘No, my treat,’ said Sean.  She didn’t insist.  At least he
was being chivalrous.

The bill paid, Sean said, ‘It’s a pity you have to go.  We
were just starting to get to know each other properly.’

‘Yes, it is a pity,’ said Gill, leaving the statement
hanging, wondering if he would interpret that as she meant it.

He kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘I’ll call you next
week.  I might just stay here for a bit.’

‘Right,’ said Gill, striking him off on that count, too.  No
intention of walking her to a taxi or the bus station, left to make her own way
home, whilst he sat at the bar and continued to drink wine.  She was better off
out of it, she decided.  ‘Nice to meet you Sean.  Goodbye.’ Gill practically
sprinted out of
Civitavecchia
and headed to the taxi rank.  After that
ordeal, she deserved the luxury of splashing out for a taxi home.

Sunday 11th September

‘Oh God, Gill, I’m so sorry,’ said Debbie, as she listened to
her friend relay the previous day’s events over the phone.  Disgusted and
disappointed, when the taxi had dropped her home she had decided
Persuasion
was called for.  If it was good enough for Lisa, it was good enough for her.  A
little bit of Captain Wentworth to show her that not all men were selfish
scum.  No wonder she had love handles, she thought – giant chocolate buttons
and almost enough glasses of red wine to rival the state Sean had been in
earlier, would not help her waistline, but just then she didn’t care.  What a
contrast to her dates with Anton.  She didn’t know whether to look forward to
her date with Charlie today, or dread it.  Surely he wouldn’t be a lush, too? 
But then, he was seeing his daughter later, so would be unlikely to drink much.

‘It’s just such a shame.  He was lovely in every way and
then he started slurring his words and got really loud.  Everybody was staring
at us.  And then he fell over a stool.’

‘You’ll see the funny side one day,’ Debbie assured her. 
‘Put it where it belongs, in the past and move on.  Treat it as a trial run for
today’s date with Charlie.’

‘Yeah, I’ll try,’ said Gill, but she didn’t convince her
friend.

By the time twelve thirty came around, Gill was calmer.  She
had put on some to hide the dark shadows under her eyes, caused by a night of
broken sleep.  She was trying to remain positive about the dating experience,
but was still understandably raw from yesterday’s fiasco.

Unlike Saturday, the weather had changed for the worse. Rain
streamed relentlessly down the windowpanes of her living room.  Matching her
mood, Gill had donned a black halterneck dress, casual enough to get away with
wearing for an afternoon date.  Again she wore her hair up.  She had just time
to grab a cerise trench coat to add a splash of colour to her ensemble, and an
umbrella, before the taxi beeped its horn.

Gill paid the driver and tried to open her umbrella from inside
the taxi, so as not to get drenched.  She strode into a relatively quiet Cosmopolitan.

Must be the weather keeping people away,
she mused.

Charlie sat at the bar, facing the door.  He smiled and
raised his hand to say hi. He must have been watching out for her.  He was very
attractive, but in a totally different way from Anton or Sean.  She reached him
and he smiled at her.

‘Good to meet you,’ he said and kissed her on the cheek. 
‘What would you like to drink?’

His voice was like silk, smooth and sensuous.  With that one
sentence, she knew she could listen to him all day.  Pity they only had a few
hours.  She checked to see what he was drinking.  It appeared alcoholic – a
pint.

‘Can I have a medium white wine, please?’

He ordered and, reminiscent of her first date with Anton,
Gill sized him up.  She couldn’t help compare them.  Both tall, Charlie was six
feet one, blond, with short hair and blue eyes, but there the similarities
ended.  Charlie oozed confidence.  He seemed very relaxed, even his clothing
was casual.  Faded jeans and a rugby shirt clung perfectly to the contours of
his body, and what contours!  She remembered that he played rugby and, unlike
Sean, it showed.  She expected most people would describe him as powerfully
built.  And he wore those jeans so well…God, she really needed to have sex
soon; she was becoming obsessed, but he was so sexy.  She hadn’t felt this
instant lust with Sean yesterday.  In fact, after the escapade with Sean, she
had thought it might take some time before she experienced lust again.  Now
here she was, the very next day, almost panting over a guy she had just met. 
Guiltily she thought of Anton.  As Charlie turned to hand her drink to her, she
put Anton to the back of her mind, and listened intently to what Charlie was
saying.

They moved to a corner table, which offered them more
privacy.

Ten minutes in and Gill was really beginning to enjoy
herself.  They were laughing and flirting with each other.  They seemed to like
each other’s sense of humour.

This dating lark’s easy
, she thought. 
You just
glam up, turn up, be the best version of yourself and see what happens
. 
Initially unsure whether she ought to ask him about his daughter, she couldn’t
help herself.

‘So, you have a daughter?’

‘Yes, Chloe.  She’s twelve.  I’m trying to make the most of
my time with her whilst she’s still a kid.  Next year, she’ll turn into the
female equivalent of Kevin the teenager.  I’m not looking forward to that one
bit.’

‘So what have you got planned for later then with her?’

‘Oh, we’re going over to Braehead.  She’ll probably want to
drag me around shopping for clothes, before we go to the ski slope, and then no
doubt pizza will be on the menu.’

‘Sounds fun.’

‘Yeah, she’s a good kid.  Bright.  Takes after her dad,’ his
eyes twinkled.

‘Her humble and modest father,’ Gill joked.

‘Everyone has their vices.’

She felt like asking what the others were, but resisted.

‘So, you like going to the cinema?’

‘Yes,’ said Gill, ‘I don’t get to go as often as I would
like, but I love it – the whole experience.’

‘You mean paying fifteen quid for a Coke, popcorn and
nachos?’

‘Pretty much.  I know, it’s extortionate these days.  Does
that mean we’re getting old, that we think that?  I have a fear that I’ll start
talking about the price of butter soon.’

‘Well, butter is damned expensive.  Bring back that butter
mountain, that’s what I say,’ said Charlie.

His eyes glinted and the corners of his mouth turned up
slightly.

‘So what do you like to see when you do go to the cinema?’
Charlie asked.

‘Romcoms, thrillers, period dramas.  Most things apart from
zombies, horror and sci-fi basically.’

‘Damn, I love a good zombie flick,’ Charlie smiled again,
revealing very small, white teeth, which seemed strange in such a large man. 
He certainly looked like he brushed thrice daily, either that or went in for
teeth whitening.  No, she thought he seemed too manly and not vain enough for
that.  They must be naturally like that. 

‘Have you seen
Shaun of the Dead
?’ Charlie asked.

‘Yes, but that’s not really a zombie movie – that’s a rom
zom com.  I think that’s the right order,’ said Gill, scrunching up her
forehead, trying to remember.

‘OK, you got me.  I don’t like zombie movies.  I’m more of
an action movie, thrillers guy and I’ve even been known to watch the odd
romcom.  And I love animated movies.’

At Gill’s raised eyebrow, Charlie shrugged and said, ‘I
know.  It’s not cool, but there’s so much humour in those films, which is
intended only for adults, and I love how the filmmakers manage to make the
characters look like the actors, as well.’

Gill knew what he meant.  She also liked animated movies,
but she didn’t know that she’d specifically go to the cinema to see one.

‘So what’s your favourite movie then?’ she asked him.

‘Oh, that’s easy.  It has to be
Die Hard
, the first
one.’

Gill hadn’t seen it all the way through, and she’d never
really been into Bruce Willis, although he had been kind of cute back in his
Moonlighting
days.

‘How about you?’

‘Again, difficult to choose, but probably
Dirty Dancing
.’

‘Ah, Patrick Swayze in a cummerbund.  Yes, gets the ladies
every time.’

‘Well actually, it’s what he looked like without the
cummerbund which interested us most,’ she said flirtatiously, ‘
and
the
man could dance.’

‘I can dance,’ said Charlie. ‘I do a mean Timewarp and know
all the moves to The Slosh.’

Gill laughed.  He seemed so sincere.  For such a big man, he
seemed quite soft.  He was very easy to talk to and great company.  She
wondered if they’d meet up again.  She was trying not to check her watch, aware
of how little time they had together today.

As Charlie drained his pint, Gill asked him if he’d like
another.

‘Lager shandy, please.’

As Gill ordered their drinks, it was Charlie’s turn to
appraise her.  He liked her.  She was fun, pretty, not stunning, but very
attractive and those legs!  He liked that she had worn a dress to show them
off.  Nice tits too.  He could have some fun with those.  Pity that he was
meeting Chloe later.  He would have liked to have taken this further.  Maybe
another time.  He bet she would be great in bed.  He could just tell.

‘There you go, sir, one pint of lager shandy,’ said Gill, as
she sat the drink in front of him.

‘Thanks.’  Their hands touched briefly as Charlie went to
lift his pint. A jolt ran straight through Gill.  Charlie flinched slightly. 
Their eyes met and Gill was first to look away, although not before holding his
gaze slightly too long, for her interest to be clear.

‘So you studied Engineering at university?’ Charlie said,
after taking a sip of his pint.

‘Yes, I really enjoyed it, but there weren’t a great deal of
jobs when I came out, so I moved into Recruitment.  Recruiting people to do the
very jobs I wanted to be doing.’

‘That couldn’t have been easy,’ Charlie sympathised.

‘Well, I thought of it like this - the people I was
interviewing had years of experience.  Graduates were the ones who had a hard
time getting a position back then.  Now we’re full circle.’

‘How d’you mean?’ Charlie was curious.

‘Well, not only graduates have a really hard time finding
something these days.  Those with great qualifications are finding it much
tougher, too.’

‘That’s depressing,’ said Charlie.  ‘But I know exactly what
you mean.  I’ve been with my firm five years and we used to have seventeen
staff.  Since 2010, we’ve had eleven.’

‘So, how did you get into surveying?’ Gill asked, keen to
steer them clear of any further talk of the recession.

‘Oh I always loved architecture.  I’m a big Charles Rennie
Macintosh fan, Alexander ‘Greek’ Thomson and all that crowd.  Plus, I was good
at techie drawing at school.’

His smile was infectious.

Just then, Gill’s phone beeped.  ‘Sorry, I thought I had
turned this off.’  She fished her phone out of her bag and saw that it was an
e-mail alert from Sean.  Hurriedly, she pressed the off button and replaced her
phone in her bag.  ‘Sorry, what were we saying?’

‘We were talking about architecture.’

‘Oh yes.  So, have you been to the Hill House in
Helensburgh?’

‘Yes, many times.  I’ve been to all of Mackintosh’s
buildings in Glasgow and obviously Helensburgh.’

‘I tend to just go to those that sell scones,’ Gill joked.

‘Well, the Willow Tearooms are lovely and the House for an
Art Lover has re-opened.  I hear they do good scones.’

‘Actually, I went to the House for an Art Lover, for lunch,
recently.  The food was lovely.’

‘Really?  Must try it sometime.’  Again his gaze held Gill’s
slightly too long. 
Was that an invitation?  If so, he’ll have to be a bit
less subtle.

‘So you like to travel?’ she asked.

‘Love it.  I get away as often as I can.’

‘So where have you been?’

‘It’s probably more a case of where haven’t I been.’

‘OK,’ said Gill, wishing he would give her a bit more to
work with.  ‘Where are your favourite places?’

‘Well, in Europe, Tallinn in Estonia.  It’s like Prague, but
much smaller, unspoilt.  And in the US, California, for the heat and its
diversity.  Plus you have all those amazing vineyards up at Sonoma. Throw in
Yellowstone and places like Carmel, Monterey and Santa Monica, and I have to
wonder why I still live here.’

‘Wow, you really have travelled!’ said Gill impressed.

‘I like to see new places, have new experiences.  I bungee
jumped off the Bloukrans Bridge in South Africa.  It was amazing.’

‘Bloukrans?’ a confused Gill asked.

‘Yes, it’s the highest bridge you can jump off there.  I
think it was and maybe still is the highest one in the world.’

‘Rather you than me.  I did one for charity years ago –
never again.’

‘Yeah, it’s definitely a love it or hate it thing.’

‘So what about you, do you like to travel?’ asked Charlie,
glancing briefly at his watch.

Gill saw, but pretended not to.  She hoped he wasn’t bored. 
Probably just trying to keep track of time for the meeting with his daughter.

‘I do, but I haven’t been to half the places you have, I’m
sure.’

‘So where was the last place you went?’

‘Amsterdam, with some friends, last year.’

‘Great city, although I’ve spent more time in its airport
than in the city itself,’ Charlie admitted.

‘Yes, I’ve been through Schiphol myself more than a few
times.’

‘And where are you off to next?’

‘We’re going to Barcelona in a few weeks for the
Mercè
festival.’

‘Oh yes, I’ve heard of that.  I’ve been to Barcelona twice,
but never during the festival.  It’s supposed to be really good.  Isn’t it
costing you a fortune, though?  I heard they jack up the hotel and flight prices
for it.’

‘Yes, it certainly wasn’t cheap, but hopefully it’ll be
worth it.  It’s my first time to Barcelona, so I can’t wait to go.’

‘It’s a brilliant city – make sure you go off the beaten
track, too, although not into the left hand side of the
Ramblas
after
dark.’

‘Why’s that then?’

‘All sorts goes on there after dark.  It’s really seedy,
strip joints, worse.’

‘Begs the question how you know,’ Gill teased.

‘Stag night gone wrong,’ was all Charlie would say.

‘So what about you, where are you jetting off to next?’

‘I haven’t booked anything, but I’d quite like to go to Bora
Bora.  But I think it’s quite a romantic place, so not really somewhere I want
to go with the lads.’