The Dating Game

by Susan Buchanan

  ‘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 b
ottle 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.

  Chapter Seventeen

  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 reall
y 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.