The Dating Game

by Susan Buchanan

  ‘Hi. Do you have any Sancerre?’

  ‘Yep, small or large glass?’

  ‘What’s small, 125ml or 175ml?’

  ‘It’s Glasgow, 175ml,’ joked the barman.

  ‘OK, 175ml is fine.’

  ‘Take a seat and I’ll bring it over.’

  Gill chose a seat which served as the perfect lookout for the entrance. She checked her watch. Five past seven. Hmm…late. She didn’t like late. Maybe he had a good reason, but it hadn’t created a good first impression. She checked her phone to see if he had e-mailed her. Nope. But there was a message from Anton. She clicked on the e-mail and started devouring it,

  ‘Hi Gill, I hope you are well. I am sorry I haven’t been in touch since last week, but as I said, I knew I’d be really busy preparing for this trip. Are you free on Saturday? I’d love to take you to dinner. If so, I will also book a room for myself in Glasgow, so I don’t have to rush home this time. Anton.’

  Gill felt positively light-headed. She didn’t know how to interpret his message, whether to take it at face value, or whether to read more into it. Was he hoping to sleep with her? They’d barely kissed, but wow what a kiss. She knew what she wanted; to look fit and toned by the time she saw him again, but she couldn’t exactly fit in ten sessions with a personal trainer between now and then. She didn’t even have time for one. Distracted by Anton’s message, willing it to reveal more of his thoughts and intentions, she didn’t initially notice the man standing in front of her.

  ‘Gill?’ asked a tentative voice.

  Raising her head, Gill saw a slightly less good-looking Liam Neeson. He looked almost the same age as Neeson, but Gill knew that he was about sixty, so either Neeson was good for his age, or Gary had had a difficult paper round.

  ‘Gary,’ she stood up to greet him, as she said his name.

  He shook her hand, ‘It’s nice to meet you. I’m so sorry I’m late. The train was cancelled and by then it was too late to take the car.’

  ‘No problem. You’re here now.’

  ‘Can I get you something to drink,’ he said, eyeing her still full glass.

  ‘No, I just got one, thanks.’

  ‘OK, give me a second and I’ll be right back.’

  As he stood at the bar, Gill observed him closely. There had been no spark. Maybe it was because he was late. She hated tardiness and OK, he had a reason, but he should have allowed for that. She knew how unreasonable she sounded. Give the poor man a chance. After all, he looks like Liam Neeson.

  Once Gary settled down with a drink and apologised again, they relaxed a little.

  ‘So you’re on the rigs?’

  ‘Yes, two weeks on, two weeks off. I love it, but it plays havoc with my social life.’

  ‘I can imagine. I actually interview engineers for the oil and gas industry.’

  ‘Really? Oh, of course, you work in Recruitment,’ it dawned on Gary.

  ‘Yes, I started my own agency three years ago.’

  ‘That must be really rewarding.’

  ‘Yes, it is, but bloomin’ hard work!’

  ‘Difficult to switch off?’

  ‘Yes, it’s why I’m trying to hire another recruitment consultant. Interviews are Thursday and Friday, so fingers crossed.’

  ‘Hope it works out for you.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘So you like Zumba?’

  Gill turned red.

  ‘Ah, you’ve not been to Zumba, have you?’

  When he smiled, laughter lines appeared around his eyes and he did look quite attractive. More open, friendly.

  Gill reddened some more. ‘Well, I was signed up for the classes…’

  ‘But work got in the way?’

  ‘Yes. It always does.’ She could have kicked herself, no sooner the words were out of her mouth.

  Ignoring her comment, Gary said, ‘So, if you don’t go to Zumba, what do you do to relax?’

  She could hardly say ‘watch Rupert Penry Jones in Persuasion,’ could she? He’d think she was a right perv and he’d be right.

  ‘I go out with friends mainly, for dinner and drinks.’

  ‘It’s not a bad hobby,’ he said smiling at her. ‘So where’s your favourite restaurant?’

  She rattled off a few, saying it was difficult to choose just one; it had to be one per cuisine. Gary laughed. He completely agreed; said he was no good at choosing just one of anything. He needed to split everything into categories. Only thing he knew for sure was that his favourite colour was blue. Everything else was split by category. She liked him, but there was something missing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but, so far, there was just no chemistry, no desire to jump over the table and straddle him, and who wanted to settle for less than that? Perhaps his category divisions applied to women, too. Maybe he needed a blonde, a brunette and a redhead, or a doormat, an independent woman and someone who met him half way. Gill turned her attention back to him, as he told her how much he loved living in Scotland, even though he spent half of it working on the rigs. Originally he had worked in the central belt for a city firm, but the money on the rigs had been too good to turn down, when he’d been made redundant from his last firm.

  ‘The money’s good and it means I’ve pretty much paid off my mortgage, which is a bonus.’

  ‘Nice for you,’ thought Gill. God, why am I being such a bitch? He’s perfectly nice. This wasn’t like her.

  She decided to see if they could get flirty. He was after all, very good-looking, even if she hadn’t felt any chemistry – yet. She lived in hope.

  Directing the same question at him, as she had at Sean on Saturday, she said,

  ‘So, Gary, you’re quite the romantic. What’s your idea of the most romantic date?’

  Gary paled visibly and Gill realised she wasn’t the only one who had lied on their profile questionnaire.

  ‘Er, well, let me think for a second. So many possibilities. Yes, either the Eiffel Tower or Venice, or maybe the Empire State Building.’

  Predictable, thought Gill, hating herself. This simply wasn’t working out. Thank God it was just a drink and not dinner. The restaurant looked lovely, too. She could see it from where she sat. Waiters passed occasionally with mouth-watering platters of food. She realised she was hungry. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but she hadn’t eaten since early that morning. Her stomach rumbled.

  ‘Oh, someone’s hungry,’ laughed Gary.

  Oh my God, this is torture. Excusing herself to go the Ladies’, and accepting his offer of another drink, for fear of being obvious, Gill quickly walked to the toilet and dialled Angela.

  ‘Ang, it’s me. It’s a nightmare. Help. Can you call me in fifteen minutes?’

  Gill freshened up, although she didn’t know why she was bothering to make the effort, and then returned to the bar.

  When she returned, he started talking about how much he loved Formula One. Gill zoned out, waiting for Angela’s call. When the phone finally rang, she was relieved.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry; I thought I had turned it off. Excuse me a second.’ Gill’s bag had slipped under the table and, self-conscious about her arse being on display but being unable to do anything about it, she reached under the table to retrieve her bag. Too late. A ripping sound rent the air. A cool draught assailed Gill, as she realised that she had snagged her Capri pants on something. As she struggled to free herself, a further rip sealed her fate. She had ripped the arse out of her trousers – seriously - from front to back. She sat back down hurriedly, pale as a ghost, and let the phone go to answer machine. Glancing round to ensure no one had witnessed her predicament and satisfying herself that this was indeed the case, she turned to Gary and said, ‘I’m really sorry, but I need to go. Can we get a taxi to my place and I’ll explain on the way?’

  Looking as if all his Christmases had come at once, Gary readily agreed.

  ‘One more thing, can I borrow your jacket?’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tuesday 13th September


  Gill came downstairs and looking rather sheepish, said to Gary, ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. And thanks for not laughing.’

  ‘Is it OK if I do now?’ said Gary, stifling a laugh.

  ‘I suppose,’ said Gill, breaking into a smile.

  Gary couldn’t help himself. The pent up laughter he had been holding in since the restaurant, suddenly spilled out. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t look or anything, but when you wrapped my jacket round your waist, trailing down your legs, that was possibly the funniest thing I’ve seen all year.’

  ‘Yes, I see how that might have been funny. I just had to get out of there. Would you like a drink? One for the road?’ she clarified, so he knew where the boundaries were.

  ‘What do you have?’

  ‘Beer, wine, vodka…’

  ‘I’ll take a beer, please.’

  Gill fetched a glass of rosé and a bottled beer from the fridge. She handed the beer to Gary, who sat on the edge of the sofa.

  He’d obviously realised nothing was going to happen tonight. She hadn’t even felt worried about him now knowing where she lived, despite the agency’s warnings. He just seemed so unthreatening. That’s what everyone always says about serial killers, she thought.

  Surprisingly, Gary drank his beer quickly, then said, ‘I best be off.’

  ‘Oh, let me at least call you a taxi, especially after the inconvenience I put you to. I’ll pay for it of course.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. It was entertaining if nothing else.’

  ‘Glad to be of assistance,’ Gill joked.

  Ten minutes later the taxi arrived. Gary turned to Gill, looked her in the eye and said, ‘I had a really good time tonight. I hope we can do it again soon.’

  Gill mumbled something noncommittal about how she had enjoyed herself, thanked him again and showed him out.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, she pressed her full weight against it and sank slowly to the floor. After a few minutes, her thoughts turned to Anton. Anton. She jumped up. He’d e-mailed her. Pouring herself another glass of wine, she settled into her chair to re-read and savour his message.

  Missed calls – two new messages. She listened as she heard Angela asking her to call her back. Second new message: Angela again. ‘Gill, call me, you’ve got me worried. Want to ensure you haven’t been chopped into little pieces and dumped in a wood somewhere.’

  She phoned Angela straightaway.

  ‘Hi Ang, sorry, you’ll never believe what just happened.’

  Angela remained silent as Gill poured out the whole sorry tale.

  ‘It wasn’t funny!’ she wailed, as Angela could barely speak for laughing. Gill could hear her snorts and coughs from the other end of the phone, even though she was clearly holding the receiver away from her.

  ‘So, not for you?’ Angela asked, when she’d regained her composure.

  ‘No spark.’

  ‘And did he really look like Liam Neeson?’

  ‘Sort of, yes, but there was no churning feeling in my stomach, no feeling weak at the knees, no I’m going to orgasm by just looking at him feeling.’

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing.’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘Well he said he had a really nice time and he hoped we could do it again soon. I dodged the question.’

  ‘Gill!’

  ‘I know, I know, but c’mon, it’s been a tough night. I’d just ripped the arse out of my trousers in the middle of a bar in town, during a first date which wasn’t going anywhere.’

  ‘Well, look on the bright side.’

  ‘There’s a bright side?’

  ‘You could have been totally into him and that could have happened. I’m sure you’d rather choose when to put your thong on display.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that’s a blessing. Thank God I’ve got a night off from all this tomorrow. I’m wrecked.’

  ‘So, who’s next?’

  ‘The drunken Irishman again.’

  ‘Ah, so he gets another chance.’

  ‘Well, I’m reserving judgment on that for now, but yes, I am meeting up with him again.’

  ‘I heard he was cute.’

  Gill demurred then answered, ‘Yes, he was bloody adorable. Thirty-five. Probably hot as hell when not shit-faced. Let’s see if the pleasure of my company will be riveting enough to keep him sober this time.’

  ‘I’m sure it wasn’t anything to do with you, or how good company you were. Like Lise said, he was just nervous.’

  ‘Well if he felt nervous then, how’s he going to feel this time, knowing he screwed it up last time? With that logic, he’d be better off not turning up at all.’

  ‘But he is turning up and he obviously thinks you’re worth the effort.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Gill, ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘So is there anything else new to report on the love front?’ asked Angela. ‘Any new profiles?’

  ‘No, no new profiles, but I did get an e-mail from Anton when I was waiting for Gary to turn up.’

  ‘You were waiting for him?’ Angela said, confused.

  ‘Yes, he was late. Train got cancelled.’

  ‘Okaay,’ said Angela, knowing what a stickler Gill was for punctuality. ‘And this Gary, he’s still alive, is he? You haven’t hidden him under the floorboards?’

  ‘Ha ha, you’re not funny.’

  ‘Beg to differ. Anyway, what’s lover boy saying?’

  ‘Anton?’

  ‘Yes, Anton.’

  ‘Well, he wants to take me for dinner on Saturday night.’

  ‘That’s great then, isn’t it? This is the one you’ve liked the most, right?’

  ‘Yep. And, he might stay over.’

  ‘With you?’ Angela asked.

  ‘No, at one of the hotels in town. That way he doesn’t have to head back on the last train and we can stay out.’

  ‘Or stay in.’

  ‘Yes, or stay in,’ repeated Gill.

  ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  ‘Ang, do you know how long it’s been since I last had sex?’

  ‘A while?’

  ‘More than a while and there’s only so much a vibrator can do.’

  Angela burst out laughing. For a laugh, they’d all bought exactly the same toy at Lisa’s sister’s adult themed party. They all swore by them, even those with partners.

  ‘But how do you feel mentally? I mean you like him, but he’s still a stranger really.’

  ‘Yes, well, I suppose I’ll only know on the night, and who knows, he might not intend for that to happen.’

  ‘Gill.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘He’s a man. Of course he expects that to happen, or at least wants that to happen.’

  ‘He’s not alone!’

  ‘Right, well, as long as you’re happy.’

  ‘I am. I think. I won’t do anything I’m not sure of. Anyway, I better go. I need to catch up with some work and e-mail him back, too.’

  ‘Don’t sit there over-analysing every word of a two sentence e-mail for half an hour, will you?’

  ‘Would I do that?’

  ‘In a word? Yes. Don’t.’

  ‘OK, I won’t. Talk to you soon. Hugs to Matthew.’

  ‘I’ll pass them on. Night.’

  Gill hung up and ensconced herself once more on the sofa, where she checked her e-mails to re-read Anton’s earlier e-mail. To her surprise, she had one from Charlie.

  ‘Hi Gill. Sorry I had to rush off on Sunday. Had lost track of time, as was really enjoying your company. Would like to see you again, if you fancy it. If you do, would like to take you out Friday night. Let me know, cheers, Charlie.’

  Wow, that was unexpected. She had given up on Charlie. So now, potentially, she was seeing Charlie on Friday and Anton on Saturday. Hmm. What to do? She had tomorrow night free to catch up, interviews on Thursday and Friday, but as long as they made it around eight o’clock, she would have time to nip home, shower and change. It was one thi
ng meeting after work mid-week and changing at the office, quite another on a Friday night, when everyone was glammed up.

  She tapped into her phone, ‘I understand about Sunday. Don’t worry about it. Could meet you eight o’clock on Friday. Let me know if that suits. Gill.’

  Two minutes later her phone beeped. ‘Sounds like a plan. Do you like Thai food?’

  She loved Thai food. She and the girls quite often went to a Thai restaurant up near the Mitchell Library for special occasions like birthdays. It wasn’t the cheapest, but the food was amazing, worth every penny.

  ‘Love Thai food.’

  ‘Great. Do you know Fountain of Siam? Do you want me to pick you up, or shall I meet you there?’

  ‘Yes, I know it. I’ll meet you inside at eight.’

  ‘Look forward to it.’

  Maybe this dating game wasn’t such a disaster after all.

  Gary sat in the taxi and reflected upon the evening. He’d liked Gill. She was his kind of girl, but he didn’t think he was necessarily her kind of guy. Had he bored her? She had seemed kind of distracted. Maybe she was annoyed with him for being late, but he couldn’t help it. Gary sighed. Why was it that women who interested him, weren’t into him and vice versa? He didn’t consider himself a bad catch. He even thought they might have had a lot in common, particularly with her having studied Engineering, but he knew that something had been missing. Neither could he fool himself that it was simply because of the abrupt way their official date had ended. He just hoped she’d give him another chance. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her goodbye, because it was so apparent that she wasn’t receptive to that. But he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thursday 15th September

  Gill was glad she had spent the evening at home on Wednesday. It had been a busy day and the rest of the week looked likely to be jam-packed, because of the interviews and her impending dates with Charlie and Anton.

  She’d received an e-mail from Sean first thing on Wednesday morning,

  ‘Thanks for giving me another chance. We could go to the pictures, if you fancy it and have coffee before or afterwards. Let me know if that’s OK and if there’s anything you’d like to see. Sean.’