The Dating Game (25 page)

‘Gill, I’m really sorry.  I should have told you it was my
brother’s wedding, but I wanted to take you somewhere really different and I
thought if I told you, you’d think I’d asked you just so I had a date for it. 
And that absolutely wasn’t the case.  As you can see, I managed through the
wedding itself, and the meal without a date.’

Part of Gill felt like saying ‘
bully for you
,’ but
she refrained from commenting and let Gary continue.

‘I hoped that if you came here and enjoyed yourself, you
might realise that we could have a good time together, that I wasn’t just some
nerd.’

‘I didn’t think you were…’ Gill started to say, but Gary
interrupted her,

‘Sorry, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did.  I really like
you, Gill, and I just wanted to have another chance at making a first
impression.’

‘Well you certainly made an impression all right,’ but Gill
was smiling.

‘Friends?’

‘Yes, friends.’

‘Great.  Oh, here she’s coming back.  What did you make of
my twin?’

‘She’s a lot more forceful than you.’

‘Nah, she just doesn’t have my manners.’

‘Right, you two sorted?’ Steph asked.  ‘Great, so, Gill,
tell us all about yourself,’ she said, pulling up a chair.  Gary rolled his
eyes.

With the air cleared, Gill started to enjoy the wedding and
the company she was in.  Relatives and friends of Gary and Steph popped by
their table, and either stood or sat, for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time,
catching up.  Gill calculated there must have been around sixty to seventy
people there.  Not a huge wedding, but she gathered it would be costing a
fortune, for such opulent surroundings.

An hour later, with the tables cleared away, the ceilidh band
started up to the strains of The Dashing White Sergeant.  The bride and groom’s
unusual choice of first dance was welcomed by all, and soon, everyone was up on
the dance floor.  Gill, at first, protested, but Murray, one of Gary’s friends,
who she had been talking to latterly, wouldn’t take no for an answer.  He
taught her the steps as they danced and, after only a short time, she was
twirling like an old hand.  The Gay Gordons, an Eightsome Reel, a Military
Twostep and a Strip the Willow later, and Gill was dying of thirst and
perspiring in a most unladylike fashion.  She excused herself to go to the
toilet.  Checking her face in the mirror, she saw her cheeks were flushed and
her face aglow with happiness.  Maybe tonight hadn’t been such a disaster after
all.

Sunday 2nd October

‘Well at least you had a good time in the end,’ Debbie said.

‘Yeah, it was quite a good night, and they were a nice
crowd.  The sad thing is I think Gary and I could be good friends.  There’s
just no fizz.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘OK, let me spell it out.  I’m not attracted to him, at
all.  He was wearing a kilt at the wedding for God’s sake.  That in itself
should have made me want to jump him!’

‘So are you seeing him again?’

‘I don’t know, Debbie.  Not in that way.  It doesn’t seem
fair.  I don’t mean to lead him on, but there simply isn’t any chemistry.  If I
went out with him again, isn’t that giving him hope?’

Debbie thought this over for a second, ‘I suppose.  God, why
can’t we ever fancy the nice guys?’

‘Eh, you have Gerry.’

‘Yes, but apart from Gerry.  Look at Angela and you, with
some of your past boyfriends.’

‘I wish I knew,’ Gill said glumly.

‘So, what now?’

‘I don’t know.  I’m seeing Charlie next Saturday.  I haven’t
got back to Sean yet.’

‘What, since he asked you to go bowling?’

‘Yeah, I haven’t replied to him yet.’

‘Gill, I know we’ve said to keep them keen, but you are
actually supposed to get back to them at some stage.’

‘I know, but even with Sean, I don’t know what to do.’

‘OK, let’s get to the bottom of this.  Anton’s the problem,
isn’t he?’

Gill said nothing.

‘Gill, I can’t see you down the phone, but I can sense you,
and I know that Anton is the problem.  Am I right?’

Eventually Gill whispered, ‘Yes.’

‘Still no contact?’

‘No.’

‘Well, what are you going to do about it?’

‘There’s nothing I can do about it.  The guy shagged me and
then never got back to me.  End of.’

‘You don’t believe that.’

‘I didn’t believe that.  Past tense,’ Gill sighed and sat
down heavily on the sofa.

‘Is he back yet?’

‘He got back yesterday.’

‘Well, why don’t you wait until this evening and then send
him a text asking how his trip went?’

Gill chewed this over for a bit and then said, ‘OK, I’ll do
that.’

‘There could be a number of reasons why he hasn’t e-mailed,’
Debbie reassured her.

‘I suppose.  Thanks, Debbie.  I’ll drop Sean an e-mail,
too.  I’ll go bowling.’

‘That’s my girl.  Right, I’m being summoned to make the
gravy. 
Yes Gerry, I’m coming
.  God, that man, sometimes!  Let me know
how you get on.’

‘I will.  Enjoy your dinner.’

‘We will.  I made it.  Good luck!’ and Debbie hung up.

Gill reclined on the sofa, unsure what to do.  She couldn’t
go on like this.  She wanted to know where she stood with Anton, although she
feared she already knew.  It hurt badly to realise she’d been so taken in. 
She’d truly believed he’d felt something for her.  Her thoughts tortured her
for two hours, as she did mundane household tasks.  At four o’clock, she caved
and texted him.  She tried to strike the right register, happy-go-lucky, but
firm.

‘Hi Anton.  Hope your trip to Belarus
went well.  Would love to hear about it, Gill.’

Gill studied the message, read and re-read every word.  Did
it convey what she was trying to say?  Yes, she thought so.  If he had half a
brain, and in her experience men had exactly that, he would get the subtext –
why haven’t you called me?

As Gill flicked on the TV, more for company than anything
else, she continued to ponder her predicament with Anton.  Too late she
realised that she had fallen in love with him, and his rejection hurt like
hell.

Monday 3rd October

A sleepless night left Gill out of sorts on Monday morning. 
Not even the unusually fine weather could buoy her flagging spirits.  She had
fully expected to hear from Anton by now. Surely he wouldn’t ignore direct
contact from her?  Even if it were to say,
‘Sorry, I’m not interested.’
 
That would be better than this constant limbo.  Who was she kidding?  She’d be
devastated if he replied to her with those words.

In the office, Gill put on a brave face, not wanting to
spoil everyone else’s mood, with her frustration and anger.  She
was
angry now.  How dare he sleep with her, promise to e-mail her, and then never
get back to her?  What a complete bastard!  She’d fallen for the oldest trick
in the book.  Of course, men will say anything to get you into bed.  She’d
lowered her guard with Anton and he’d let her down in stellar fashion.  She
wouldn’t cry.  He wasn’t worth it. She had a business to run.  So, she’d pour
her energies into her company.

At lunchtime, Gill took the plunge and texted Sean.

‘Hi Sean.  Sorry not been in touch. 
Bowling sounds good.  When can you make it? Gill.’

‘Angus, I’m going to the accountant’s.  Can you tell Janice
I’ll grab some lunch on the way and then work from home?’

‘Sure, no problem.  Anything else you need me to do this
afternoon, when you’re out?’

‘No, just as we discussed, thanks,’ and with that Gill left
the office, traipsed down the steps, and got into her car.

Traffic was notably heavier this lunchtime.  Gill hoped
there were no roadworks.  She wanted time to stop for lunch at the little
delicatessen round the corner from her accountant.

As she sat in traffic, frustrated, her thoughts turned to
Angus.  That boy had been a real find. He was amiable and thorough - both
qualities important to her in a colleague.  As the traffic crawled forward,
Gill smiled to herself, thinking at least that part of her life was going well.
Suddenly the traffic broke away and Gill followed.  Too late, she saw the car
crossing the junction.  Brakes screeching, gears crunching, Gill swerved and
almost managed not to hit it – but still she clipped its rear.  Shaking and
furious at herself for not noticing the lights had changed to red, she climbed
out of the car.  The driver of the Astra she had pranged, unfolded his legs and
got out of his car. 
At least he’s OK
.

‘Are you…?’ Gill began then stopped.  ‘You!’

‘Ah, it’s the bag snatch girl,’ the man smiled, despite not
having yet checked the damage to his car.

‘What are you doing here?’ Gill managed after several failed
attempts at speech.

‘I live in Maryhill,’ the man who had rescued her bag in
Barcelona said.

‘I can’t believe it.  Of all the people I could run into, no
pun intended, I run into you.’

‘Small world.’

Cars started honking all around them, bringing them back to
the fact that they were blocking one of Glasgow’s busiest intersections.

‘Tell you what.  Why don’t we move the cars over there,’ the
man pointed to some nearby parking spaces, ‘and then we can assess the damage?’

‘OK, sounds good,’ which afterwards she thought was a
bizarre thing for her to say, given she’d just ploughed into her rescuer’s
car.  Really, what were the chances of meeting him again?

Gill drove her car over to one of the free spaces, locked it,
then stood on the pavement waiting for Barcelona Man to park.  She didn’t even
know his name.  As he manoeuvred into the space, she saw that his colour
coordinated bumper had a slight dent in it.  Even though it was only small,
Gill knew it could be expensive to fix.  Briefly she wondered if he would let
her pay for the repairs rather than put it through her insurance, which would
surely affect her premiums.

Barcelona Man got out of his car and said, ‘Let’s see what
the damage is.’

He didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact she’d
crashed into his car.  Gill found her voice, ‘Sorry, I don’t even know your
name.’

‘Oh, it’s Liam,’ he said, holding out his hand, ‘Liam
Gotobed.’

‘You’re kidding!  Gotobed?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before.’

Recovering herself, Gill said, ‘Nice to meet you.  I’m just
sorry it’s always under such awful circumstances.’

‘But at least we did meet,’ he said, holding her gaze.

There was such warmth in his look, it made Gill melt.

‘Right, I don’t think it’ll take much to sort this.  A mate
of mine has a body repair shop in Bishopbriggs.  I’m sure he could fix it
pretty cheaply.’

‘So we’re OK not to go through the insurance?’ Gill asked
hopefully.

‘I think so,’ he walked around the car, ‘I don’t see any
other damage, but I’ll have it checked out.  Sometimes being shunted can cause
damage underneath, which you can’t see straightaway.’

At Gill’s worried face, he reassured her, ‘But I really
don’t think that’s the case here.  Listen, were you going somewhere when you
crashed into me?’

Gill winced at the reminder, and the corners of Liam’s mouth
twitched when he saw it,

‘It’s just I thought maybe you could buy me a coffee to make
up for running into me?’

‘Tell you what,’ said Gill impulsively, ‘Why don’t I buy you
lunch and that gets me off the hook for Barcelona, too?’

‘Deal.’

‘But I need to be done in an hour or so, as I was on my way
to see my accountant.’

‘Well, we can’t have you being late for him.’

‘Quite.  Why don’t we go to McSwains?  That’s if you like
Scottish food.’

What a dumb question
, Gill realised, no sooner had it
left her mouth.  What was it with her? Did she have
‘I must behave like a
moron around good-looking men’
syndrome?

‘Sorry, what I meant was if you like Scottish fine dining.’

‘I do.  OK, let’s go.’

It was only a few minutes to the restaurant and as they
walked, Liam told Gill he had a day off, and had been on his way into town to
do some much needed clothes shopping – something he loathed. 

When they arrived at the restaurant, Gill took charge - she
was paying after all - and asked if they had a table for two.  No, they hadn’t
booked.  The waiter seemed doubtful, but just then the phone rang with a
cancellation.

The waiter seated them near the window, overlooking
Kelvingrove Park.  It was a cosy spot and Gill blushed.  She almost felt as if
they were illicit lovers instead of two drivers post-accident.

Menus arrived swiftly.  They refused the wine list, both
opting for sparkling water instead.  Although the small restaurant was busy,
they had plenty of privacy.  Not here a neighbouring table positioned so close
to you that you felt as if either your stomach or your arse would surely knock
over glasses or cutlery, as you tried to squeeze past.  The setting was
intimate and Gill suddenly found herself at a loss for words.  She looked at
Liam, who was busy studying the menu.  He looked up and threw her an enquiring
glance.  With a tiny shake of her head, she buried herself in the menu.  They
both eschewed starters in favour of dessert.

‘What do you fancy?’ Gill asked.

A slight smile graced Liam’s lips and then it was gone, as
he replied, ‘I think I’m going to have the Breast of Chicken with Chorizo. 
You?’

‘Yes, that sounded really nice, but I had chicken for dinner
last night, so I’m going to have the Sea Bass.’

Running his finger down the menu, Liam found it, ‘Ah yes,
Sea Bass with Sun-blushed Tomatoes and Feta.  Sounds really nice, too, but I’m
just not in a fishy mood.’

‘I know what you mean.  I have to be in the mood for some
things.’

Liam’s eyes glinted and Gill blushed again.  How did he do
that to her?

‘I’m just going to go and freshen up before lunch.’

‘Good idea,’ and Liam followed her until they parted ways
for the respective toilets.

When Gill returned, Liam was already back at the table. 
‘I’ve ordered, hope that was OK?’

‘Sure.  You already knew what I wanted.’

‘Great.  So tell me, what were you doing in Barcelona?’

Gill related how she’d gone to the
Mercè
festival
with three friends for a long weekend.  She explained that she and Angela had
just come out of the
Sagrada Família
and were just about to head back to
the hotel, when the mugger stole her bag.

‘They’re just so brazen.  That’s what gets me,’ said Liam.

‘I know.  I mean, I knew theft was notorious on the
Ramblas
and we were always very careful, but I didn’t expect someone to try to steal my
bag off my shoulder.’

‘It’s a shame, as Barcelona’s a great city, but the police
turn a blind eye. To them, it’s just stupid tourists,’ Liam empathised.

‘Fair enough, some people have no sense, you know, coming
out of a jewellery shop dangling their purchases, with their wallet or purse
still in hand, Nikon around their neck.  But even so, no one asks to be
mugged.’

‘Yeah, it’s a pity.’

‘So, what were
you
doing in Barcelona?’

‘I was just passing through, actually.  I flew to Barcelona
the week before and drove down to a few tile manufacturers.  I’m a tiler by
trade, but now I have five tile warehouses in the central belt.  I’ve been
trying to find new products for them.  I was on the return leg of my trip, and
had half a day to kill in Barcelona.  I thought I’d see if the
Sagrada
Família
lived up to expectation.’

‘Well, I’m very glad you did, otherwise I would have had
real problems; credit cards to cancel, loss of money, not to mention needing to
get a new passport.’

Their meals arrived and they tucked in hungrily.  Gill was
pleased to see Liam had a good appetite and lovely manners.  He spoke to her
only between mouthfuls, asking her what she did for a living, what she’d liked
best about Barcelona; did she need her bathroom tiled?  The last was said with
a sexy little smile.

He can tile my bathroom any day
, thought Gill. 
Gotobed? 
More like Cometobed!

‘So, tell me, Gotobed, really?’ asked Gill.

Liam sighed and then trotted out the story, as he had clearly
done many times before.  ‘My dad’s English.  Apparently it’s one of the oldest
surnames in England.  There are only around two hundred or so of us in the UK.’

‘But what a cool name!’

‘You wouldn’t think so if you’d had to have it all through
high school, especially in Scotland.’

‘Maybe not.  So how old is your name then?’

‘Well, we can trace it back to at least the fourteenth
century, and it’s rumoured that we might be linked to William Gawtobedde of
Sussex in 1332.’

‘Who was he?’

‘I don’t think he was anyone particularly famous.  I think
it’s just they reckon that’s where we came from, and then, of course, over the
years, the spelling changed from Old English to what it is now.’

‘That’s really interesting,’ Gill gazed at him, fascinated.

‘Thanks.’

The dessert was to die for, but all too soon, it was time to
go, otherwise Gill would be late for her appointment.

‘I really enjoyed lunch, thanks,’ Liam helped Gill on with
her jacket.

They walked back to their cars and taking out her keys, Gill
said, ‘We haven’t exchanged details yet.’

‘Neither we have,’ Liam scrawled his name and phone number
on a scrap of paper which he took out of his wallet.  Tearing it in two, he
asked Gill to write her number on it.  Gill obliged and handed it back to him. 
Their hands touched briefly and a frisson shot through Gill.

‘Listen, Gill, I’d like to see you again.’

Gill waited.

‘Are you doing anything on Wednesday night?’

Gill thought for a moment and then said, ‘Nothing special.’

‘Do you like photography?  Or rather, do you like free
champagne and nibbles?’

Gill laughed. ‘I have to confess to not knowing much about
photography, shading, exposure and all that.  But you’ve won me over with the
champers.’

‘Great.  A friend of mine is having his first exhibition and
I have tickets.  Can I pick you up?’

‘Where is it?’

‘It’s at the Lambkin Gallery in Byres Rd.’

‘OK, well, why don’t I meet you there?  What time?’

‘It starts at seven, but if we’re there for seven thirty,
that’s fine.  We’ll probably be among the first, but I want to support my
friend, you know.’

‘No problem.  OK, I really need to go.  See you on
Wednesday.’

Gill went to shake his hand, but Liam kissed her cheek.

‘I look forward to it.’