The Dating Game

by Susan Buchanan

  Angus Mackie – twenty nine. Didn’t have much of a background in recruitment, but had worked for a small competitor of McFadden Technical Recruitment for the last two years. Very occasionally Gill had lost business to him.

  Roseann Lavelle – had worked for a multinational recruitment firm in Glasgow, Manchester and Paris, where its European headquarters was located. She spoke fluent French and Flemish, as well as having done a degree in Law.

  Alexander Currie – not long out of university, but with good work experience and had worked for three different recruitment firms, each time under placement. He might enjoy and be grateful to have a real, full-time position, where he wasn’t going to be let go at the end of six months. The freedom to grow in an agency such as Gill’s could also be a carrot to be dangled in front of him.

  Zoe Straker – twenty three, had returned from doing a gap year travelling around Asia and assisting in orphanages, after completing her MSc in Global Human Resource Management at the University of Liverpool. She had some recruitment experience, having worked each summer at one of the main players in the Glasgow area. Perhaps she had just made tea and answered phones, but her CV read well.

  Gill glanced down the rest of her shortlist. The irony of interviewing candidates both in her professional and her private life was not lost on her. She hoped she didn’t grill her dates too much, and that she didn’t go into ‘interview mode’.

  She sent off the template e-mails inviting the candidates for interview, amending the names as necessary, and had completed her fifth when an e-mail popped up.

  ‘Hi Gill, the agency said you would like to meet up. Are you free this weekend? If so, thought we could go for lunch and a few drinks. Let me know, Sean x’

  Kisses already, thought Gill. He’s hopeful. But then, this was the Irish guy, even his name sent tingles down her spine. Sean, sensual Sean, sensuous Sean. Oh shut up, Gill, she told herself. And he wanted to have lunch with her. He was keen, or hoped they’d get on. She liked that – admired his optimism. Plus today was only Wednesday. Saturday and Sunday were three and four days away respectively. He had given her enough notice, except she was already seeing Charlie on Sunday.

  Gill sent out the remainder of her interview e-mails and then turned her attention back to her personal e-mail.

  ‘Nice to hear from you, Sean. Could do Saturday lunch. Where would you like to go?’ and once she had sent it off into the ether, she allowed herself a little smile.

  Now she had dates with three men in one week! It really was true what they said, whoever they were. Men were like buses.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thursday 8th September

  On this September evening, with the sun actually making its presence felt for once, Gill felt light of heart and hopeful. She couldn’t wait to see Anton again. Admiring herself in the mirror, she felt pleasantly surprised at what she saw. Finally her wardrobe was being put to good use. Apart from her business and casual clothes, much of her wardrobe went untouched for months on end. That was about to change. Although she’d rather wear black for its slimming purposes, she felt that all black gave off the wrong vibe, nor was it particularly summery. Feeling slightly guilty about her other upcoming dates, Gill sprayed herself with a subtle sprinkling of her favourite perfume, an unfussy, floral fragrance, and left the office.

  Anton had asked her to meet him outside a music shop in Buchanan St.

  Too far to walk in heels, Gill flagged down a taxi. As the traffic was fairly light, rush hour already past, she arrived quickly. She’d asked the driver to drop her at the corner of West Nile St and Sauchiehall St, the closest drop off to their rendezvous point.

  Anton stood on the steps leading up to the sandstone coloured concert hall, appraising Gill, as she exited the taxi and headed towards him. He was more smartly dressed than last time, in navy trousers, a pale blue shirt and a navy blazer. Gill hadn’t looked up, obviously intent on reaching her destination. As she approached the corner, she ran her hand through her hair and just in that split second, her glance upwards connected with Anton’s, who smiled at her.

  Instantly Gill’s face lit up and she walked towards him. ‘I thought I was meeting you at the music shop. Were you watching out for me?’

  ‘We are kind of meeting there. It’s only a few metres away. And yes, I was looking out for you. The steps are a good lookout, but, there’s another reason I’m standing here.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ asked Gill.

  ‘We’re going to a concert; Chopin, Beethoven and Fauré.’

  ‘Really?’ Gill was delighted. How thoughtful of him. She’d mentioned in passing on their date on Monday how much she loved classical music. He had certainly been paying attention. Definite brownie points.

  ‘Is that OK?’ Anton sought reassurance.

  ‘That sounds wonderful,’ Gill told him.

  ‘Oh, I forgot something,’ he said and turned towards her.

  ‘What?’ said Gill, but she had no time to say anything else, as Anton bent his head and kissed her softly on the lips.

  ‘I forgot to say hello,’ he said, pulling away from her. Gill wished he hadn’t, that he had continued, but they were standing in the centre of the steps outside the concert hall for all to see. She wondered if she cared.

  ‘Hi,’ said Gill. Anton slipped his large hand into hers and escorted her into the concert hall.

  After collecting the tickets, they had a quick drink in the crowded bar, and then headed for their seats.

  He must have paid quite a bit of money for these tickets. Should I offer to pay for mine? Gill wondered. They were amongst the best seats in the house.

  Anton had thought of everything. Slipping a bottle of water into her hand, as they took their seats, he then produced a programme, which he discussed with Gill, as they waited for the performance to start.

  ‘So, first we have Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor, followed by Fauré’s Pavane and finally Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 in E flat major, Op 73,’ Anton filled her in, reading from the programme.

  Gill didn’t know all of the various works, but she did generally like classical music and Beethoven in particular, even if she didn’t know which key they were played in. Anton sounded very knowledgeable.

  ‘So, who are your favourite composers?’ Gill asked him.

  ‘Well, of course I love some of my countrymen,’ Anton said, sounding a little patriotic, thought Gill, suppressing a smile. ‘But, my favourite non-Russians are Brahms, Beethoven and current day, Ennio Morricone.’

  ‘Really? I love Ennio Morricone,’ said Gill, ‘especially Gabriel’s Oboe.’

  ‘Yes, that’s my favourite piece too, but of course he did a lot of the music to many of the old westerns.’

  ‘Yes, I vaguely remember that. They’re not my thing, though.’

  ‘Me neither. I’d rather watch Il Postino or Chocolat.’

  ‘No way!’ said Gill. She laughed and then apologised, ‘I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve never met a man who would admit to liking Chocolat. It’s usually the girls who are swooning over Johnny Depp.’

  ‘Yes, he has that effect on me, too,’ Anton said, laughing heartily. It was rather sexy.

  The lights intensified and rounds of applause broke out, as the members of the orchestra made their way onto the stage, beaming at the audience, as they settled into their seats, repositioning music stands, so they were optimally placed.

  Usually Gill would have been ogling the orchestra to see if any new musicians had joined since she had last attended one of their concerts, checking to see if there was any talent, in both senses of the word. Now, however, the thought didn’t even enter her mind, as Anton smiled at her and offered her the programme to read, as they awaited the arrival of the conductor. She glanced briefly through it, more because he had been kind enough to buy it, than for any real desire to familiarise herself with the composer’s history. She was interested of course, but right now the man sitting beside her, held more appeal. Gill ris
ked a sidelong glance and saw that he was gazing thoughtfully at the orchestra.

  ‘Do you play?’ she asked him.

  ‘Not any more. I learned violin until I was ten, but then I fell in love with science and stopped.’

  ‘A pity.’

  ‘Yes, I often think so, especially when I come to an event like this. I love classical music, but I’m no longer confident enough to play. Do you?’

  ‘No, I would have loved to play piano, though, or violin, or even the oboe. I wouldn’t have cared, as long as I could have produced a sound like that. The nearest I got was a loan of my cousin’s chanter.’

  ‘Chanter?’

  ‘Yes, it’s the part of the bagpipe which you play the tune on.’

  ‘Ah, I see. I can imagine it now. I went to the Edinburgh Military Tattoo once. It’s quite something.’

  ‘I’ve never been,’ Gill laughed. ‘How bizarre that you have and yet, I’m Scottish and I haven’t.’

  ‘It’s always the way. No one ever visits what’s on their doorstep.’

  The audience started to clap as the renowned Russian conductor, Dmitri Budkovskiy, walked towards the stage, his coat-tails flapping behind him and his mass of unruly curls bouncing as he walked. Lukasz Karpinski, the young Polish pianist, who had won the 2010 Best Undiscovered Talent of the Year award, for his prowess in playing Chopin’s works, smiled shyly from beside the great maestro. Dmitri bowed to the crowd once he reached the podium, whilst Lukasz accommodated himself at the instantly recognisable Steinway piano. Glancing at Lukasz and waiting for his confirmation that he was ready, the great Budkovskiy turned to the orchestra. Some silent instruction passed between them, before he raised his baton and the lively sound of the violins introduced the first movement.

  Gill relaxed into the music, which alternated between lively and gentle. Although she enjoyed classical music, she had no idea what allegro and all the other musical terms meant. She remembered quavers from music class in third year at school, but was more likely to be found eating their crisps namesake these days. After the initial introduction, the piano dominated the piece and Gill sat, eyes half-closed, letting the music wash over her. Anton’s hand lay partially on her armrest, so close to hers that they were almost touching. Her eyes flickered open and she saw that he was looking at her. She smiled and his hand covered hers. It felt warm, nice. How was she meant to concentrate on the music now, though? She felt her heart beating faster, just being so close to him. She’d forgotten just how potent lust could be. And she always found classical music an aphrodisiac. Pity none of her former boyfriends had been into classical music – that would really have been a dream come true. She’d often fantasised about being with a pianist or a violinist. They showed such passion - she imagined they’d be the same in bed. It would probably have been much cooler to lust after the latest rock or pop star, but that had never done it for her. She loved that the male members of the orchestra were all clean-shaven and sporting tuxedos.

  Anton started tracing circles on the outside of her hand. It was a delicious sensation. It felt forbidden, surrounded as they were by hundreds of people, but it was as intimate as kissing her. Gill was getting aroused and hoped that things might go further with Anton tonight. He was lovely, adorable, sexy and very well-mannered. What more could she hope for in a guy? And he loved classical music. Short of serenading her every day with his own violin, there wasn’t really much he could do to top that.

  At the interval, they grabbed a quick drink at the bar. Anton chose a glass of Pinot Grigio and Gill decided to make that two. The bar was busy, with no place for them to sit, so they claimed a section of the bar as their own, out of the way of new customers, and leaned against it. As they sipped their drinks, they talked about the weekend. Gill realised she didn’t want him to know she had another date, but neither did she wish to lie to him. She skirted around it by remaining vague and just said she would be out for lunch on Sunday, but would have a lazy day on Saturday.

  ‘I’m going to have to work this weekend,’ Anton said. ‘I’m going to Minsk in a few weeks and I have so much preparation to do, you wouldn’t believe. Sometimes I wish there were more than twenty-four hours in a day.’

  ‘Or less work,’ mused Gill, since his thoughts echoed her own. Please let these candidates for the SRC position be suitable. She couldn’t bear it if they weren’t. She had already been struggling to keep up, before she turned into a social butterfly, and now there was no way she could manage without help.

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ Anton agreed wholeheartedly with her. He smiled down at her. There really was no other way to describe it. Gill was relatively tall for a woman in the west of Scotland, where the average height was five feet four, but Anton positively dwarfed her. She rather liked it. He placed his glass down on the bar and tenderly stroked her cheek.

  ‘We need to work less,’ he murmured. Gill, transfixed, could barely nod her response.

  The bell rang out, indicating they should return to their seats for the second half of the concert. Fauré’s Pavane had been wonderful, so beautiful, but Gill was really looking forward to Lukasz playing the Beethoven piece. As they shuffled towards their seats, trying to be polite and not overtake the elderly gentleman being assisted to his seat, whilst snails overtook him, Gill thought, I could get used to this.

  Lukasz Karpinski was certainly the talent he was proclaimed to be. Although best known for having completed all of Chopin’s works, Gill thought he did an amazing job of performing Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5. As soon as the violins and double bass started up, even from the first few notes, Gill realised that she knew this piece, whether from a film, or a TV ad, she couldn’t be sure, but she had heard it before. It was very gentle and went some way to calming her ardour, as it really was a very relaxing piece of music, almost somnolent. Anton placed his hand in hers, during the piece and although he didn’t trace circles this time, for which she was partly thankful, he left it there and she didn’t remove it.

  Gill couldn’t recall the last time she had felt this at ease with someone. It was so effortless, but there was most definitely a frisson between them. And she rather hoped she’d be in a position to do something about that soon. But how? He lived in Stirling, so it wasn’t feasible for him to invite her back to his. Would it be forward of her to ask him back? Would he assume sex to be on the cards? It might be, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t want him to think she took having sex with someone lightly. That wasn’t the case, but she really liked him and it had been such a long time. Anton, she knew, would be a considerate and probably very passionate lover. Daydreaming about what they would be like together, she didn’t realise it, but she had started gently caressing his fingers with the underside of her thumb, which caused Anton to throw her a quizzical smile. Wow! A thunderbolt of lust shot straight through her. There was such a thing as a time and a place, but her libido didn’t know that. She’d wait to see if Anton made a move or gave any signals after the concert.

  ‘That was fantastic,’ enthused Gill, as they made their way out of the auditorium.

  ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. Good idea then?’

  ‘Great idea, thanks so much for bringing me.’ Gill fell momentarily silent. Again she wondered if she should offer to pay for the ticket. Somehow she thought not.

  As they walked down the front steps of the concert hall onto Buchanan St, Gill didn’t want the evening to end, but she knew Anton would have to catch the train to Stirling. Idly she wondered how much a taxi would cost to Stirling. Breaking into her thoughts, Anton said,

  ‘Are you in a rush to get home, or do you have time for a quick drink, before I have to catch the train?’

  Her hopes dashed of a passionate encounter with the gorgeous Russian just yet, Gill recovered herself and hiding her dismay, said ‘No, a drink would be lovely. Did you have somewhere in mind?’

  As it was a week night, the hotel bar opposite the concert hall wasn’t too busy and they managed to snap up a table farthest from the
bar, which afforded them some privacy. Anton told Gill of his family, his two brothers, also scientifically minded, and his mother who was a teacher. His father had died when Anton was eleven. He spoke of his father with great reverence and Gill felt touched. A man unafraid to talk openly of his emotions. She’d been limiting her options by seeing only British men. She should have broadened her horizons to include dating foreigners a long time ago.

  As Gill listened intently to Anton, she couldn’t help noticing his beautiful smile. And when she went to the bar for another round, she could feel his approving stare on her back.

  All too soon, though, it was time to leave.

  ‘Are you getting a taxi home again?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll get one from outside the station like last time.’

  ‘Great, let’s go,’ and he held open the door for her.

  They meandered down Buchanan St, as slowly as was possible, without Anton actually missing his train. Anton put his arm around Gill’s waist and when he found no resistance from her, left it there. Gill revelled in the feeling of this gorgeous man beside her. She just wished he didn’t have to go.

  As they turned into West George St, Anton stopped and gently turned her towards him,

  ‘I wish I didn’t have to go.’

  Had he been reading her thoughts? Was he angling for an invitation to stay at hers? Should she invite him back? These questions buzzed around Gill’s head until Anton said,

  ‘But unfortunately I need to work. Hopefully next time I will have more time. Maybe we could meet at the weekend and I could stay over in a hotel or something?’

  Gill wondered if the ‘or something’ meant stay at hers. She hoped so. But he’d already said he was busy this weekend and so was she. Come to think of it, she was busy most of the week. What would she say if he asked her to meet up mid-week? She already knew that she’d rather meet him than any of the others. She felt as if she’d already met The One, if such a thing existed, but she didn’t want to rush it, and by the looks of things, neither did he.