Chapter Four
As Gill lay in bed, she had difficulty dropping off. Should she tell the girls what she was doing? She couldn’t decide. Debbie would be appalled. Lisa would say well done; and Angela? Well, Angela would probably demur and see how things panned out. She rarely judged. That was one of the things Gill loved about her friend.
Angela was a gentle soul really, so Gill found it difficult to understand how she could teach at St Swithun’s. Unlike the grand and posh-sounding saint’s name, the school was anything but. It was only one step down from the problem inner city schools in the US. The incongruity and irony of a school named St Swithun’s in the east end of Glasgow wasn’t lost on any of them.
Giving herself a mental shake, her thoughts returned to the dating agency. For now, she decided to keep it to herself, just until she received a few profiles and figured out how things were going to go. If she went on a date, then of course, she would have to let at least Debbie know. She didn’t want to meet some potential nutter without letting anyone in on where she was going.
Gill found herself thinking about her failed relationships. She may as well start at the beginning. Barry. Everything before that was just messing around. But Barry she had loved – a lot as it turned out. It’s true what they say, she thought, that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. They met at Strathclyde University on their first day of second year. Barry had been studying Metallurgy at Glasgow, but hated it, so had changed course and university in his second year. He decided Electrical Engineering was more him and they had both found common ground, since Gill was also studying Engineering. They had chosen most of the same course modules, were in mostly the same tutorials and lectures and quickly became inseparable. It came as no surprise to any of their friends when Barry proposed on the day they sat their last finals’ exam. Gill, in the heat of the moment, accepted. She wasn’t sure now, if it had been with joy and relief at the exams finally being over, or if she genuinely had been happy at being asked to marry him. She loved him, of that she was quite certain, but marriage? The big wedding followed less than a year later, with the prerequisite amount of lace and tulle, not Gill’s thing at all and the last time she had had formal pictures taken of her.
Within a year the marriage was in tatters. They should have tried living together first. Even though they both worked hard and were very successful, Gill discovered that living with Barry was not quite the same as being with him. He was lazy. He never cooked. He wanted to order in all the time. He was more selfish than she had realised. It always had to be what he wanted to watch on TV; invariably sport. They didn’t go out as much. The house had cost them too much and then the housing market dipped and they found themselves in negative equity, which only led to more arguments and ill-feeling between them. They were both to blame, sighed Gill. They hadn’t appreciated each other’s good points enough and the bottom line was they had been too young. A year later, they were divorced. Thank goodness they hadn’t had any kids. At least that was one less thing to sort out.
She still thought of Barry fondly sometimes. He lived in Brisbane now, had accepted a contract position not long after their divorce. She’d found out through a mutual acquaintance that he had married again and was father to four kids. Four! She didn’t even have one. It wasn’t a subject to which she’d really given much thought; difficult to think about having kids when she didn’t have a partner. But who knew, maybe she would want them one day.
Of course there had been other guys after Barry, but nothing serious. Then there was Euan. They had met at a friend’s birthday do. It was his smile which had captivated her. He was handsome, but nice, not like some guys who know they are gorgeous and play on it. He was a perfect gentleman. In fact she had been the one to coax him into bed. She wanted him and she wanted him to want her. Finally she had found her soul mate. They were great friends, shared so many likes and dislikes. They went for romantic weekend breaks in the country, avoided the party scene and instead toured the fine dining circuit, both being avid foodies. They visited farmers’ markets and went to food festivals. Euan was a pretty good cook, but then as a chef, he was bound to be.
Eventually after three years, they moved into a rented flat together. After what had happened with Barry, Gill hadn’t wanted to move too quickly, or make such a large commitment, without a trial period first. It had proven to be an intelligent move. Although they got on famously, shared the chores and rarely argued, Gill sensed a change in Euan not long after they started living together. An evasiveness, a restlessness. They stopped making love as frequently. His phone often went to voicemail when she called. She had just decided she needed to broach the problems in their relationship with him, when he came home earlier than usual from work one night. He looked shattered. He asked her to sit down and even though she knew what was coming next, she made him say the words. Why should she make it any easier for him? Her life was falling apart. She wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.
He’d slept with someone at his friend’s stag party two months previously. It wasn’t anyone she knew, but they had seen each other a few times since. He wanted to see where it would go. He told Gill that she had to admit that the passion in their relationship had fizzled out long ago. Whose fault was that? she wondered. Although she was devastated, she forced herself not to cry. He said he would move out and would give her a couple of months’ rent to tide her over, until she could either get someone to share, or find somewhere else to live. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he had hurt her. Once he had gone, she curled herself into a ball and howled, until she cried herself to sleep.
Finally, there had been Timothy. Not Tim, but Timothy. He was so charming. She had been visiting friends in Poole and they had taken her to the Yacht Club. Most of the sailing crowd was very friendly, but Timothy was truly charming, without being effusive. He introduced his friends to her and asked them to relate anecdotes of their sailing exploits. To someone as uninitiated to the sailing scene as Gill, it sounded fun and glamorous. She’d ended up extending her stay by four days, to spend more time with him. Her friends hadn’t minded that in those extra days, she had spent more time with Timothy than them. They were delighted to see her so happy. Twice a month, either Gill or Timothy would make the journey by low cost airline or train from the south coast to Glasgow or vice versa. Gill enjoyed the personal space she had, not living with Timothy, and they made the most of their time together.
Then Gill had to cancel one of their weekends. She had to work and there was no getting around it.
‘But I’ve bought my ticket,’ Timothy told her, ‘and I want to see you.’ Privately Gill thought those statements should have been made the other way around.
‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t get out of it,’ said Gill, upset. But if Timothy had noticed her tone, he paid it no heed. He practically snarled at her that he would make other arrangements for the weekend then, and hung up.
He hadn’t called her for two days. Two days when Gill had cried until she made herself ill and managed to do little at work, she was so distraught. Finally he rang, apologising, saying he was a fool and wanted to make it up to her. Could he come up the weekend after next? Happily she agreed and things reverted to normal.
One evening they were out for dinner in Glasgow and decided to go to a bar in Bath St afterwards. It was jam-packed, eight deep to the bar. Timothy had gone to the toilet.
‘Hello. What are you doing here all on your own?’
Gill initially didn’t turn around, not realising the person was addressing her, until the voice called, ‘Gill McFadden, are you ignoring me?’
Swivelling around on her stool, which she had scrambled to nab as soon as the previous occupant’s derrière had vacated it, Gill found herself face to face with Toby Lewsley.
‘Toby! My God! Is that really you? I haven’t seen you for years!’
‘That’s right. Fifteen to be exact.’
‘Shit! Are we really that old?’<
br />
‘Afraid so, but you look amazing.’
Never one to take compliments well, Gill blushed and said, ‘Thanks,’ as Toby grinned at her. It was the last grin she saw on his face, as a fist crashed into it and sent him sprawling to the end of the bar. Horrified, Gill turned to see who had attacked her old friend, only for her jaw to drop, as she saw Timothy rubbing the knuckles of his right hand.
‘Leave my girlfriend alone,’ he spat at a terrified Toby. Timothy was a good six feet two and broad and muscular, to Toby’s five feet seven, slim frame. Keen not to catch Gill’s eye, lest he be subjected to another physical attack, Toby moved away from them, as Timothy grabbed her coat and said, ‘We’re leaving.’
Shell-shocked, Gill didn’t know what to do. She wanted to check Toby was all right. A barman was already handing him some ice to put on his jaw. But she sensed it might work out worse for Toby if she tried to apologise for Timothy’s behaviour. What the hell just happened? Timothy had never shown himself to be jealous or violent before. Timothy’s actions were downright unspeakable. She felt outraged, confused and more than a little scared. What could she do, though? Either she had a showdown, refused to get in a taxi with him, or they went back to her flat and she didn’t mention it until the next day when they would both be sober. She chose the latter option and numbly followed him out of the bar. Once in the taxi, Timothy was sweetness itself, acting as if nothing had happened.
Gill wasn’t sure how she got through the rest of the weekend, but she did. She could have won an Oscar for her performance. She knew what she had to do. After waving him off at the airport, she waited until she had confirmation his flight had landed and then she texted him, saying she didn’t think they should see each other anymore and that she had been appalled by his behaviour.
That was the start of a series of obscene, threatening calls, texts and eventually e-mails and letters. He had even turned up unexpectedly at her flat one night. Fortunately she wasn’t alone. Debbie was with her, having a girly night in, eating chocolate buttons and watching animated films. Romcoms were out at that point, for obvious reasons. When they didn’t answer the buzzer, which he pressed continually, Timothy started screaming at Gill from down below in the street. Unfortunately one of the neighbours had come out to ask him what the hell was going on and Timothy had pushed past him into the stairwell, knocking him to the ground. He had bounded up the stairs two at a time, and started hammering at the door, telling her to open up, he just wanted to talk. Gill was terrified, but didn’t want to call the police, as she had loved him. Then it became apparent he was trying to break down the door. Debbie was petrified, too, but already had her mobile out, dialling 999.
The door had partially given way and Debbie and Gill had locked themselves in Gill’s bedroom, when with great relief, they heard the sirens. How they hoped they were coming to Gill’s. The kicks suddenly stopped and they heard voices. There was the sound of a key turning in the lock and then the voices entered her flat.
‘This is the Police. It’s safe to come out now.’
Heart pounding, Gill helped Debbie unbarricade the bedroom door, in front of which they had dragged the chest of drawers. She opened the door and came face to face with a young policeman, with his female partner. Debbie followed her and shaking, they both sat on the sofa and gave the police a statement. Gill also told them about the attack on Toby and the threatening calls and other nasty correspondence.
‘Looks like we were just in time,’ said the young policeman. ‘You were lucky. We had an earlier call about the disturbance.’
After all the details had been taken, Gill showed the police out.
Gill was called upon in due course to give evidence in the assault on Toby and on Timothy’s threatening behaviour towards her. He was given a suspended sentence and ordered not to go within five hundred metres of either of them.
Some sweet dreams she was having, thought Gill. More like nightmares. She really could pick them. What was so wrong with her, that she couldn’t find someone who loved her and wanted to be with her and treat her well, without being jealous, or going off with someone else, as she wasn’t enough for them? Exhausted by her depressing journey into her past, Gill finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Five
Next day, Gill was again gripped by indecision both over whether joining the dating agency was a good idea, and also if she should tell her friends or not. No matter, no time to think about it. Today was going to be a busy one. Her morning routine was one of military precision. Alarm went off at six o’clock, no snooze button for Gill, straight into the shower then, towelling her hair dry, she would traipse into the kitchen and open the cupboard which contained her Colombian Roast coffee. If there was one thing Gill couldn’t give up, it was coffee; her major, although not only, vice. But it had to be the real thing; none of that instant muck for her. Maybe she had been Italian in a past life. As she opened the packet and spooned three scoops into the cafetière, Gill was already running through the day’s agenda in her head.
Coffee ready, she added a spoonful of sugar. OK, so she needed to lose some weight, but she was more concerned with the side-effects of aspartame than whether sixteen calories in a spoonful of sugar was going to add pounds to her already slightly overweight frame.
She took a sip of her newly brewed coffee then returned to her bedroom to dress. She was grateful that she sent her clothes to Full Steam Ahead to be ironed, as at least she didn’t have that to deal with as well. Already keeping on top of housework proved hard enough. Her two bedroom flat in Shawlands, although roomy, was manageable, just. Turning her head upside down, Gill used her diffuser to help dry her naturally wavy hair. It was a curse having long hair in many respects, but she simply didn’t suit short hair. Makeup applied in less than two minutes, she returned to her tiny kitchen, and resumed her coffee.
Fetching a probiotic yoghurt from the fridge, she quickly drank it, and then shoved the papers she needed for that day’s meetings into her briefcase. A final glance around the room and she headed out to catch the bus.
It was another drizzly day, not uncommon in the west of Scotland. Opening up her brolly, she braced herself against the wind and rain. It was always a toss up whether to put up an umbrella at all. Gill couldn’t count the times she’d lost an umbrella to the fierce winds which swept the west coast, snapping spokes or turning the umbrella inside out.
Only three hundred metres to the bus stop, it was still far enough for Gill’s trousers to be soaked by the time she reached it. At least it had a shelter. She smiled briefly at the occupants already waiting for the bus and sank into the furthest away corner of the bus shelter, trying to escape the elements. Whose idea was it to be green? she chided herself. In Scotland? With weather like this? She had a perfectly good Audi parked outside the flat. The bus was due at six fifty. Of course it turned up late, at two minutes past seven. She could already see the next bus behind it. There was nothing truer than the saying after all. They did all come at once. It never ceased to amaze her how buses were late this early in the morning. There was still virtually no one around at that time. What held them up?
After twenty minutes, Gill arrived at the building she shared with a solicitor’s, a dental surgery and a plastic surgeon. McFadden Technical Recruitment took up a quarter of the Victorian townhouse. She had taken out the lease a few months after her split from Timothy. The events surrounding it had made her re-evaluate her life and although she didn’t yet have her work/life balance quite right, at least now she was doing something she loved and that she was good at. Plus being her own boss made a huge difference. Even if she worked long hours, it was her company that was benefiting and it gave her great satisfaction.
It was a standing joke with Donal Sullivan, the eldest partner of the law firm, Sullivan, Sullivan & Beattie, as to who would be the first to arrive at the office each morning. It was always either Donal or Gill. Most people arrived at a more reasonable time, usually after eight. Today the storm doors were still
locked, so Gill guessed she had beaten him by a fraction. Right on cue, she saw his Mercedes turn the corner, as she put the key in the lock. She waved to him, and he raised his hand in greeting.
Gill unlocked her own office and then after turning on all the lights, went through to the small kitchen area to switch on the kettle. Time for her second coffee of the day.
Gill’s office was separate to the Reception area, so clients didn’t see her workspace, giving her complete freedom to do with it as she liked, including scrawling her thoughts across one of her two whiteboards. Instead she met with clients in one of the two well-proportioned meeting rooms.
The morning flew by, as Gill had a couple of meetings with new candidates and soon it was two o’clock.
Janice had popped in to give them tea and coffee a few times, and Gill had been grateful for the chocolate biscuits laid out on a side plate. Having missed lunch, she was starving.
When the meetings were over, Gill came and sat on the corner of Janice’s desk. ‘How’s it been?’
‘Busy but manageable.’ Gill didn’t doubt it. Janice could have managed an army unit, had she been asked.
‘Good. I’m going across the road to see if they have any sandwiches left. Do you want anything?’
‘I got you a sandwich when I was out,’ Janice reached for a paper bag on the other side of her desk.
‘Oh thanks, you’re an angel. What did you get?’
‘Ploughman’s.’
‘You’re a life saver,’ Gill smiled, accepting the sandwich. ‘If my three o’clock turns up early, can you tell them I’m tied up? I need some time to go through my e-mails.’
‘No problem,’ and Janice proceeded to run through the phone messages she had taken for Gill that morning.
The Dating Game Page 3