The Dating Game (2 page)

‘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.

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 fatigue.  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.