The Wedding Date

‘Why don’t you do anything about it?’ I ask, ensuring the spotlight remains on Lauren’s sex life and not mine. ‘You hardly ever go on dates any more.’

Lauren takes a long slurp of her smoothie until she ends up noisily hoovering up the dregs in the bottom of the glass. ‘I guess I’m just not interested in dating random guys,’ she says once her smoothie has been depleted.

‘You’re interested in Courtney,’ I tease. ‘Why don’t you talk to him?’ Despite having a massive crush on Courtney, Lauren has never actually had a conversation with the man.

‘I’m happy to ogle from afar.’ Lauren hops off her stool and grabs her gym bag. ‘Come on, let’s go and meet Ryan at the pub and we can think of more ideas for Project Wedding Date.’

Chapter 8

Kitchen Skills (or lack of)

Text Message:

Dad: Takeaway tonight – Indian, Chinese or pizza?

Delilah: I thought Mum left you instructions for making lasagne?

Dad: She did. And when she gets back from Aunty Liz’s we’ll tell her it was delicious but not nearly as good as hers

Delilah: Fair enough. Chinese then please

I haven’t spent much time in the development kitchen at Brinkley’s. I glimpsed inside it during my tour of the buildings on my first day but other than that it has never been a place I’ve been required – or permitted – to go to. The kitchen is stark with grey flooring and chrome appliances and worktops. The lack of natural light means the room is lit with headache-inducing strip lighting. The room is so uninspiring it’s hard to believe such delicious products are created here.

‘I’ve set aside a workspace for you over here.’ Karen, who works in development, points out the space at the far end of the kitchen. Neville arrived back from the brand-building conference full of ideas (and beer, judging by the lingering hangover) and, inspired by what he had learned, Neville has loosened the Brinkley purse strings and injected some much-needed cash into the firm’s social media efforts. One of Adam’s ideas was to set up a blog (yes, Brinkley’s really is in the dark ages when it comes to social media. Before Adam arrived in the office to rescue us from technological suicide, Brinkley’s didn’t even have a Twitter account) and Karen has agreed to give us a hand for the afternoon. We’re going to develop some recipes using Brinkley’s biscuits and post them onto the blog. Katey-Louise had originally wanted to play the role of glamorous assistant to Adam but she took one look at what she would have to wear to comply with health and safety rules and dropped out. So now I’m playing the not-so-glamorous assistant in my overalls and hairnet.

‘I printed out a lemon and ginger nut cheesecake recipe.’ Adam places the printout and a bag of ingredients on the stainless steel counter.

Karen gives it a quick glance and nods her head. ‘Looks easy enough. Delilah, why don’t you crush the biscuits while Adam melts the butter?’

Crushing the biscuits is a lot of fun, especially as I pretend the ginger nuts are Ben’s face.

‘I think that’s enough.’ Karen places a hand on my arm to stop me whacking the bag of biscuits with my rolling pin again. There would have been nothing but ginger nut dust if I’d been left to my own devices. ‘I always picture my ex-husband.’ Karen winks at me before she moves on with the recipe.

The next steps of the recipe aren’t as much fun as the biscuit bashing, but Adam, Karen and I have a lovely afternoon in the development kitchen. It’s nice to be away from the Brinkley crew for a couple of hours and the freedom allows me to enjoy myself. Adam and Karen are a laugh and we joke around as we make the cheesecake. Adam takes a few photos as we go along, which he’ll add to the blog and Instagram when we get back to the office.

‘And that’s it,’ Karen says once we’ve spooned the filling on top of the biscuit base and added a bit of lemon zest for decoration. ‘We’ll leave this in the fridge overnight and then it’ll be ready.’

‘That wasn’t so bad,’ Adam says. He looks relieved that we haven’t burned the kitchen down to rubble. ‘Have you got any other ideas of things we could make out of Brinkley’s biscuits?’

Karen pops our cheesecake into one of the fridges. ‘Rocky road bites would work really well and they’re so easy to make. We could also come up with a new ice cream flavour. That’s always fun. We could have a go now if you’ve got time?’

Using Brinkley’s shortcake biscuits and chopped up strawberries, we make a strawberry shortcake ice cream that smells divine. While the mixture is in the ice cream maker, we make a start on the rocky road bites.

‘I should make some of these with my nephews,’ Adam says, licking a splatter of melted chocolate from his wrist.

‘You have nephews?’ I don’t know that much about Adam. We’ve chatted in the office and here in the kitchen, but it’s been about our hobbies and film and TV and now food we like. I don’t know anything personal about Adam. Like if he has a girlfriend. Or a wife.

‘Two of them. Isaac and Luke.’ Adam’s face lights up as he says the names and I can tell he adores them. I half expect him to whip out his wallet and show me their photos.

‘How old are they?’ We haven’t finished making the ice cream yet but I decide to get a head start on the washing up, filling up the sink with hot soapy water. Karen has popped out of the kitchen for a breather, which I assume is a code word for a sneaky cigarette break.

‘Isaac’s four and Luke’s just turned three.’ Adam joins me at the sink with a tea towel once he’s placed the trays of rocky road into the fridge. ‘They can be a bit of a handful but they’re good kids.’

The conversation moves away from Adam’s nephews as we wash and dry the equipment we’ve used, moving back to the familiar ground of entertainment. Adam tells me about his favourite films, which are mostly action but with the odd comedy thrown in and I tell him about my love of musicals.

‘Which is your favourite?’ Adam asks as he places a clean, dry mixing bowl on the side. I take a moment to consider my options. It’s a tough choice as there are so many great ones to choose from.

‘I love the glamour of the older musicals like My Fair Lady and Singin’ In the Rain but I also love the fun of the newer ones and the revivals like Hairspray.’ I tilt my head to one side as I scrub at a particularly stubborn clump on a wooden spoon. ‘But I think my absolute favourite has to be Annie – the original – as it was the first one I watched. My grandma bought me the video one Christmas and I was hooked.’ I’m half tempted to break out into the chorus of “Tomorrow” but manage to restrain myself. ‘It makes me feel like a little girl again whenever I watch it.’

‘Wow.’ Adam takes the wooden spoon from me and wipes it dry. ‘You put a lot of thought into that.’ He’s grinning at me, so I’m pretty sure Adam is only teasing but my cheeks start to feel hot. Ben always said my love of musicals, and Annie in particular, was juvenile. Perhaps he was right.

‘I’m going to check on the ice cream.’ I dry my hands on a towel before switching off the ice cream maker and checking the consistency. I’m not entirely sure what we’re aiming for but it should be done about now so I pour the mixture into a large tub and pop it into the freezer.

‘This has been fun,’ Adam says when I return to the sink with the ice cream maker’s mixing bowl and paddle. ‘We should think of some more recipes to put on the blog. It beats being squeezed into the office.’

‘Don’t you like being squeezed up against Katey-Louise?’ I’m blatantly fishing to see if he fancies her and want to bite off my tongue as soon as the words are out of my mouth. The last thing I want is to make Adam think I fancy him. Because I don’t. Obviously.

Ok maybe a teeny bit, but only from afar. I can appreciate a gorgeous man without wanting to hop into the sack with him, can’t I?

‘She seems nice enough but she’s a bit young for me. How old is she? Twenty, twenty-one?’

‘Nineteen.’

Adam’s eyes widen. They’re a beautiful, rich brown framed by thick, dark lashes. I’m not paying particular attention to his eyes (or any other body part) but they’re hard to miss when they’re popping out.

‘Wow. Nineteen.’ Adam gives a sigh. ‘To be nineteen again.’

I can’t help but laugh at his serious tone. ‘You sound like you’re a pensioner. You’re still young. Relatively.’ I stick my tongue out at Adam and he whips me with his towel. ‘Seriously though, you’re what? Early thirties?’

‘Very early. Thirty-one.’

‘See. That’s barely out of your twenties.’ I finish washing the ice cream maker equipment and empty the water out of the washing up bowl. ‘There’s plenty of life left in you, I’m sure.’

‘I hope so.’

I grab a towel and help Adam to finish drying. Once everything is put away and we’ve wiped down the counters, we join Karen in a little room off the kitchen where she’s now sitting with a cup of tea.

‘All done?’ Karen asks. She’s sitting on the sofa with a magazine, her shoes kicked off to one side and her hairnet slung over the arm of the sofa. ‘Help yourself to a cup of tea or coffee. I wish I could offer you a biscuit but they’ve all been wolfed down.’ She surreptitiously swipes at a few crumbs on her white overalls.

‘Thanks but I should be getting back to the office.’ Adam holds up the camera he’s looped around his neck. ‘I need to get the photos and recipes uploaded on the blog. I’m hoping the cheesecake one will be ready to go live tomorrow.’

‘I’d better be getting back too.’ I’d have quite liked to sit and skive with a cup of tea for a few minutes, but it won’t look right if Adam returns without me. This is his project after all and I’m only assisting him.

‘Thanks for all your help,’ Adam says to Karen. Her eyes are firmly on her magazine and she doesn’t lift them as she raises a hand to wave goodbye.

‘No worries. Give me a shout if you need any more help in the kitchen.’

The development kitchen is only a short walk away from the Portakabin office but Adam and I take our time, stretching out the time we have left before we join the others as much as possible. This is it; our little project is pretty much at an end. Tomorrow Adam will take the ice cream and rocky road out of the fridge and freezer to take some more photos for the blog but he won’t need my help for that. So it’s back to the real world of work, which for me means plenty of filing, typing up letters and emails and answering the phone while pretending Katey-Louise isn’t fluttering around the place.

‘Any exciting plans for the weekend?’ Adam asks as we wander across to the Portakabin.

‘I have plans,’ I tell him. ‘But I’m not sure how exciting they’ll be. My friend’s a PE teacher so I’m going to watch his pupils take part in a five-a-side tournament.’ This is Lauren’s idea, and not because she wants to support Ryan. The five-a-side tournament is, apparently, the perfect place for me to meet a potential Wedding Date.

‘I want to take a grownup as my date, not a pubescent boy,’ I’d pointed out and Lauren had looked at me as though I was dense.

‘I’m not expecting you to date the players. I’m talking about the spectators, you doofus.’

So I’m going to be spending my Saturday morning on a muddy football pitch instead of hanging around the house in my PJs.

Joy.

‘How about you?’ I ask Adam. ‘Any plans, exciting or otherwise?’

‘I’ll be looking after my nephews.’ Adam reaches for the Portakabin door and holds it open for me. ‘I might even give the rocky road recipe a go with them.’

Hanging out with a couple of kids? Suddenly that muddy field seems a lot more alluring.

Chapter 9

Jumping Straight Back Into The Dating Game

Text Message:

Ryan: Code Red

Delilah: Eh?

Ryan: Code Red. I’m on a date with that girl I met on Twitter. Code Red means she’s a fruitcake so you need to phone me with an emergency so I can get out of here

Delilah: Do your own dirty work! Pig!

Ryan: Come on, Delilah. Please!

Ryan: Code Red!

Ryan: CODE RED!

‘See anybody you fancy?’

Lauren and I are standing out on a muddy field, pretending we’re not utterly miserable as Ryan’s football team plays against another local school. Ryan is in his element, jogging up and down the perimeter while yelling encouragement to his pupils. This isn’t my favourite way to spend my Saturday mornings but Lauren and I try to support Ryan whenever we can’t think of a reason to get out of it and, it turns out, when I’m on the hunt for a man.

‘I keep telling you, this isn’t about fancying anybody.’ I blow on my fingers to try to warm them up but it doesn’t work. ‘I’m not looking for an actual boyfriend.’

‘I know, I know.’ Lauren rolls her eyes. ‘You’re looking for a temporary love interest.’

‘Love doesn’t even come into it!’ My heart isn’t going anywhere near this project. It’s in tatters enough as it is.

Lauren lets out an exasperated puff of air. ‘It’s a figure of speech.’ We both jump as a roar erupts around us; Ryan’s team has scored a goal. We cheer along and pretend we’ve been paying attention to the match. ‘But you have to find the guy attractive, right? You can’t date somebody you don’t fancy.’

‘I can.’ And I will – it’ll probably make this whole project easier. Nothing muddies a plan like raging hormones.

‘What if you met somebody seriously hot and he asked you out?’

‘I don’t know.’ I haven’t had to face that dilemma as I haven’t really found anybody ‘seriously hot’ since Ben. I’ve found men cute and charming and I’ve even had a bit of cheeky flirting going on with a few, but that’s just a bit of fun.

Ryan looks our way so Lauren and I jostle about a bit and shout out a few ‘nice shots’ and ‘come on, boys’ to show our enthusiasm for the match.

‘What about that guy over there?’ Lauren asks once Ryan’s attention is back on the field and we can act naturally again. ‘He keeps checking you out.’

‘Who?’ I have a good look around at the spectators but Lauren grabs me by the arm and pulls me in close.

‘Don’t make it so obvious,’ she hisses. ‘But the guy with the red trainers.’

I look down at the ground until I spot them. I’m suitably impressed when my eyes trail up the body. ‘I suppose he is pretty cute. Is he seriously checking me out?’ My answer comes when he turns to face me and gives me a wide smile. ‘Oh, cripes. He’s coming over.’

Any hint of bravado leaves my body as the bloke comes to a standstill in front of me.

‘I haven’t seen you here before, have I?’ It’s only a tiny fairy step up from the gag-tastic “do you come here often?” line but I find myself forgiving him, mainly because he’s cute and could be a contender for Project Wedding Date. Lauren and I don’t make these trips to the football pitch a regular occurrence but we do occasionally turn up and I haven’t noticed him before either. But then I have been walking around in a bit of a daze since Ben. Deciding to date again – in whatever form – has obviously opened my eyes to cute guys again, which can only be good news.

‘That’s my nephew, Lewis.’ He points out one of the boys but I can’t tell which one – they all look the same to me – but it’s one of Ryan’s lot and not the opposition.

‘We’re here with the boys’ PE teacher.’ I point out Ryan, who is yelling something across the field and waving his arms about.

‘But he’s just a friend,’ Lauren chips in. ‘Delilah’s single.’

My cheeks burst into flames. I’d forgotten how excruciating dating can be. It was never like this with Ben, which proves how right we are for each other.

‘Delilah? Nice name.’ I swear to all that is holy that if this guy starts crooning Tom Jones at me, I’m walking away. But he simply smiles while I go a bit redder in the cheeks department.

‘Do you have a name?’ Lauren asks and I glare at her. Does he have a name? No wonder she’s single too if this is how she initiates conversations.

Instead of backing away never to be seen again – which he should – he laughs and nods his head. ‘I’m Jack. And yes, before you ask.’ He half turns towards Lauren but keeps his gaze on me. ‘I’m single too.’

‘It’s like fate!’ Lauren looks past us, towards the football pitch before placing her hand on Jack’s arm. ‘Will you excuse me? I think Ryan’s trying to get my attention.’

Ryan isn’t trying to get her attention at all. When Jack and I look out onto the pitch, Ryan is caught up in trying to break up a scuffle between the opposing teams.

‘Does your friend play Cupid often?’ Jack asks as Lauren weaves her way through the crowd.

‘Fortunately not.’ My cheeks are still quite warm but the fact that Jack hasn’t run a mile is quite promising. Could Jack be it? Could he be my plus one for Francesca’s wedding? I try to see him through Ben’s eyes and conclude that yes, Jack is a pretty good contender. He’s taller than Ben without towering over me ominously, handsome without being arrogant (I have to admit – begrudgingly – that Ben had a tad of arrogance about him) and he seems like pleasant enough company.

‘She means well,’ I say and Jack nods effusively.

‘Oh, yes. Absolutely.’ Jack nods a bit more. ‘She seems like a good friend.’

Ben never really liked Lauren. He said I became loud and uncouth whenever I was with her, which is totally unfair. I can be loud and uncouth without Lauren’s encouragement, thank you very much.

‘I should go and find Lewis.’ The whistle has been blown, signalling the end of the match. Ryan’s team has won two-nil. ‘But I’d really like to see you again.’

‘Yes,’ I decide. ‘I’d like to see you again too.’

Jack’s snowed under with work at the moment so I don’t get to see him until the following week. We’ve sent texts back and forth and Jack has phoned me a couple of times but it’s good to see him again and confirm that I didn’t imagine how cute he is. Yes, he will definitely look good as my plus one. Jack picks me up and tells me we’re heading to a lovely little restaurant in the countryside. It takes quite a while to get there but Jack assures me it will be worth it.

‘What do you think?’ Jack asks when we finally arrive at the secluded pub restaurant.

I look around the small, dark room. It isn’t quite what I was expecting but it’s a quaint little place with a proper open fire. ‘It’s cosy. And quiet.’ Quiet is an understatement. There’s only one other customer; an elderly man in a tweed jacket and mud-encrusted wellies who’s nursing a pint of bitter.

‘Good.’ Jack winks at me. ‘That means I get you all to myself.’

The landlord wanders out from the back of the pub and looks taken aback to see new customers in his establishment. He blinks at us before asking what we’d like.

‘You serve food, don’t you?’ Jack asks. He takes his phone out and tries to open his internet browser but there’s no signal here. ‘It said you did on TripAdvisor.’

I’m surprised at Jack’s words. From the way he’s been talking, I assumed he’d been here before, several times. I thought it was his favourite place to dine.

‘Aye, we do food.’ The landlord nods and leads us to a table by the fire, producing a menu which consists of a single laminated sheet of paper. ‘Are you having a starter?’

There is only one starter available: soup of the day.

‘What soup is it today?’ I ask as I shrug off my jacket.

‘Heinz tomato, love.’

We decide to have a starter plus a main course of sausage and chips for me and egg and chips for Jack. Neither of us fancied the third and final choice of liver and onions.

‘I’m so sorry about this,’ Jack says as the landlord heads off to the kitchen. ‘It has five stars on TripAdvisor, I swear.’

‘I thought you’d been here before.’

‘I have but it was a couple of years ago. They must have changed hands since.’

‘Never mind.’ Jack looks so crestfallen but the location of our date isn’t what’s important. As long as we have a nice evening together, that’s all that matters.

And we do have a nice evening. The food is edible and we have the added bonus of a drunken serenade by the man in the wellies as we eat. Jack and I chat about our lives and work and Jack tells me about his nephew, who is in Year Eight at Ryan’s school.

‘Do you want kids of your own?’ I ask and Jack nods. We’ve finished our meal and the landlord has taken away our dishes but we’ve remained by the fire where it’s cosy. The landlord has disappeared again and with the only sounds coming from the back of the pub where the man in wellies is attempting to woo a wilting pot plant with a ballad and the crackle from the fire in front of us, we could be in our own little cottage.

‘One day. I love kids. I just have to meet the right girl first.’ Jack chooses that moment to lean in and kiss me, to convey that maybe, given time, I could be that girl. ‘I’m sorry. Was that too soon?’

‘No, it’s fine. Really.’ It’s an odd sensation being attached to lips that don’t belong to Ben. Jack’s lips feel different and the fuzzy feeling is missing from my tummy, but it’s a pleasant enough kiss and I wasn’t expecting – or wanting – fireworks anyway.

‘I think this could be it,’ I tell Lauren. We’re once again standing on a muddy field as Ryan’s football team tear up and down the pitch. It’s freezing so we’re bundled up in thick coats, hats, scarves and gloves to ward off the cold. We’d usually find some excuse to stay at home (in the warm) but I’m hoping to see Jack again. We agreed to see each other after our date but Jack has been busy with work again and we haven’t had the chance to meet up.

‘The kiss was that good?’ Lauren asks and I give her a chiding look.

‘No, Lauren. The kiss was ok but you know I’m not looking for Mr Right.’ I’ve already found him but unfortunately he’s set on making Eden Mrs Right and not me. ‘Why are you so fixated on seeing me settled down? What about you?’

‘What about me? I don’t need a date for Francesca’s wedding.’

‘That’s not what I’m talking about.’ I take a furtive glance around the field but Jack doesn’t seem to be here. ‘I’m talking about you finding yourself a boyfriend. A real, permanent one.’

Lauren gives a wave of her hand. ‘I’m fine as I am.’

‘I don’t think you are.’ I sneak another glance for Jack. ‘You’re as hung up on Courtney as I am on Ben.’

Lauren gives a humourless laugh. ‘I am not.’

‘You really are.’ I take another look around the crowd gathered on the side lines. ‘Oh, there he is!’ I’m up on my tiptoes when I spot Jack loitering at the back. Grabbing Lauren’s arm, I start to drag her through the crowds but stop abruptly when I see that he isn’t alone.

‘Who’s she?’ Lauren asks but I shrug. ‘His sister?’ Lauren thrusts a thumb at the pitch. ‘The kid’s mum?’

All the tension that has been building up in my body and making my shoulders rise higher and higher leaves my body in a sudden rush. I visibly deflate, only just managing to stay upright as my suddenly floppy body makes for the muddy ground.

‘Of course it’s his sister!’ Still, I’m in no rush to go over there. As much as I enjoyed my date with Jack, I really don’t want to meet his family. I melt back into the crowd, taking Lauren with me.

‘Um, Delilah.’ I feel the resistance as Lauren stops, her body refusing to be led back to our original spot. ‘I don’t think that’s Jack’s sister after all.’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask but one look at Jack tells me everything I need to know. It seems the mystery woman enjoys Jack’s kisses much more than I did on our date.

Chapter 10

The Pub Quiz

Text Message:

Delilah: What’s the capital of the Faroe Islands?

Dad: Are you at the pub quiz? Because that’s cheating