Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating (48 page)

‘But I love my job.’

‘There are other jobs.’

‘I love my clients.’

‘And other clients!’

‘I know,’ Alice replied uncertainly, looking glum. John abandoned his dinner. He pushed his plate away, reached across the table and stroked her face.

‘Let’s not worry about this tonight. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in ages, and I don’t want to ruin it by thinking about Audrey. I’m so happy you’re here. So, now that I’ve finally got you, let me enjoy being with you. We’ll think of a plan, a
kind
plan, for telling Audrey another day. I promise.’

He gave her a reassuring smile, stood up and led her away from the kitchen.

It was 2.15 p.m. Alice shut down her computer, picked up her bag and followed Bianca and Cassandra as they trailed Audrey out of the building and across the city centre to the bimonthly meeting of the Dating Practitioners’ Society. Spring had finally arrived at last. Alice sighed as the warm, mild air softly tickled her skin.

‘Someone sounds happy!’

Bianca was smiling at her.

‘Better not let Crackers Cracknell catch you!’ Cassandra warned. ‘You’re not paid to be happy!’

Alice smiled in surprise. It was a rare moment of staff solidarity. Normally Bianca and Cassandra marched ahead, a fraction off Audrey’s heels, with Alice and Hilary keeping up the rear.

‘You’re looking different.’ Bianca was scrutinizing her thoughtfully. ‘Blooming.’

Alice blushed.

‘If I didn’t know better I’d say you had a man!’ Bianca said lightly, before turning her attention away. The idea of Alice bagging herself a man was obviously so preposterous
that she didn’t bother to see whether her comment had scored a direct hit.

‘A man!’ Alice mumbled in hot embarrassment, her mind whirring as to how she could deny it without telling an outright fib. She forced an awkward chuckle. ‘That’s funny!’

But Bianca and Cassandra had already moved minutely ahead. Relieved, Alice resumed her place at the back of the line.

Ernie tackled the agenda quickly. As business skipped along Alice felt her mind wandering. This was happening a lot nowadays. All she could think about was John’s face, John’s kiss, or some tiny thing John had said. It was as though every other topic had floated out of her brain.

Alice shook herself to attention and tried to concentrate. The DIPS meetings were a treasure trove of handy matchmaking tips. Besides, she only had to concentrate for a little while. Tonight John was taking her to Beckwith’s, the city’s most romantic restaurant. She couldn’t wait! And in honour of the occasion, she’d carefully stowed her backless dress and high heels in the sports bag at her feet.

‘Does anyone have any other business?’ she suddenly heard Ernie ask. Alice felt shocked. Had she really daydreamed through the entire meeting? She couldn’t recall a single item of business. Her notebook – normally brimming with news and ideas – was empty.

There was a silence. Nobody, it seemed, had anything to add.

‘Well, in which case, that just about wraps things u—’

‘Er, there
is
one little thing . . .’ Sheryl suddenly piped up, uncurling her legs from beneath her and slipping her bare feet back into their heels.

She rose imperiously. Ernie knew his place. He sat down.

‘It’s just a small matter,’ Sheryl continued, taking a wodge of brown envelopes from her mock-croc handbag. ‘But a very important one. Somebody in our Society’ – she paused dramatically – ‘has been lying.’

There was a collective intake of breath.

‘Abusing our trust; engaging in a deception . . .’

Alice’s heart suddenly beat faster. Her whole body prickled with danger. Sheryl must have found out about her and John. But how? They’d been so discreet!

‘... a
romantic
deception,’ Sheryl finished meaningfully.

Shock ricocheted around the room. A romantic deception – to a group of professional matchmakers – was a crime against the very fibre of humanity. Alice felt her mouth go dry. This wasn’t how she wanted everyone to find out; how she wanted Audrey to find out. She felt sick.

‘I’d like you all to take one of these.’ Sheryl handed the envelopes to Matteus. He grabbed one and passed the pile on.

‘I should warn you,’ Sheryl continued, ‘you might find the contents shocking.’

The envelopes slowly made their way around the group, the sense of excited outrage growing. Alice was sitting a long way from the front. She was going to be one of the last to receive an envelope. She looked at the Society members who’d been served their envelopes first. Most were
turning them over in their hands reverently, savouring the anticipation of scandal, not wanting to be seen to be the first to rip theirs open in an unseemly race for titillation. She racked her brains. What could be inside? What could Sheryl have seen? Was it a photo of her and John together? Surely that was impossible. They’d always been so careful about where they went, choosing out-of-the-way locations, making sure they never kissed in public. How had they got caught out like this? In a panic, her eye flew over to where Audrey was sitting. She too was going to be one of the last to receive an envelope, and her head was pivoting fast as she looked from Sheryl to Matteus to Ernie to the envelopes. Her cheeks were flecked with dark red blotches. Despite her racing heartbeat and nervous, sweaty palms, Alice felt a rush of pity. Audrey hated to be the last to know about anything, let alone a deception unearthed by Sheryl Toogood. Alice felt a sudden urge to protect her. She wanted to beg her forgiveness, to tell her she hadn’t meant to hurt her; that she was sorry for falling in love with John, but she’d been powerless to stop.

A few seconds later an envelope was resting weightily in her hands.

‘Oh my God! It can’t be!’ a wobbly voice rang out.

Bianca was gasping at the contents of her envelope. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open, aghast. And then she looked up. But it wasn’t at Alice. It was at Audrey.

Quickly Alice ripped her envelope apart. Inside was a picture of John.

Around her people were beginning to gasp and tut.

But it wasn’t a photo of Alice and John together. Instead it seemed to be a page from a website. John’s picture was in the middle and below was a catalogue-style description of his hobbies and a price code of ‘A*’. Scrawled diagonally across the page in bold red letters were the words, ‘John Marlowe, aka John Cracknell’ and then in capitals: ‘RENT BOY’.

Alice stared in confusion. And then gradually it dawned on her. It was a page from Geraldine’s website. It was where visitors could browse through the escorts and pick a date. Alice hadn’t seen it before – it hadn’t occurred to her that Geraldine would have a website and that John would be on it. But somehow Sheryl had got hold of it.

Alice felt red-hot fury flood through her. How dare Sheryl treat John this way? What right did she think she had to expose him like an outlaw and brand him a rent boy? It wasn’t like that.
He
wasn’t like that. And besides, what business was it of Sheryl’s anyway?

Alice got to her feet. Before she could think about what she was doing she heard her own voice cut across the whispers and gasps.

‘It’s not like that!’ she cried out. Heads rotated and she felt the eyes of the group upon her.

‘Alice,’ Sheryl purred nastily. ‘Sweet little Alice. So trusting.’

Alice swallowed awkwardly as she prepared herself for exposure at the manicured hands of Sheryl Toogood.

‘So loyal,’ Sheryl continued poisonously, ‘so loyal to her deceitful employer – who’s been lying to us all for years.’

The heat of Sheryl’s attention suddenly swung away from Alice and onto the crimson face of Audrey. For the briefest of moments Alice felt relief. But then she saw Audrey. Her head was bowed and her jowls were wobbling strangely.

‘Ladies and gentleman,’ Sheryl continued maliciously. ‘I present you with concrete evidence that the man our very own Audrey Cracknell has been passing off as her husband is not her husband at all. He’s an impostor. In fact, he’s worse than an impostor. He’s an escort; a
rent boy
!’

Hands flew to bosoms as everyone in the room took an audible intake of scandalized breath.

‘He’s a man Audrey has been hiring and faking a relationship with. He’s not Mr John Cracknell. He’s Mr John Marlowe and he charges by the hour.’

There was a stunned silence.

‘Surely not, Sheryl,’ Ernie interjected reasonably. ‘There must be some kind of mistake. I’ve met the man. He seems very decent. Audrey and John are in love!’

‘There’s no mistake, Ernie.’ Sheryl quashed his objection contemptuously. ‘And of course he
seems
decent. Pay him enough and he’ll be whatever you want him to be! And in love? Pah!’ She laughed, her eyes cruel and glinting. ‘I’m sure he’s “in love” with half the ladies in the city. And maybe half the men too!’

At this there was the largest gasp of the afternoon. Perfect Partner’s David Bennett choked in disbelief. Loving Liaisons’ Wendy Arthur spilt her cup of tea into her lap.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Sheryl continued harshly, ‘our very
own Audrey Cracknell has been using the services of a
prostitute
!’

The DIPS members exploded into a cacophony of outraged gossip.

‘He’s not! He’s not like that!’ Alice shouted, silencing the chatter, the eyes of the room swinging back to her once again. She suddenly realized she was still standing up. ‘And Audrey’s not like that either!’ she added vehemently. You’ve got it all wrong!’

‘It’s time you forgot your sugar-coated fairy tales, Alice, and joined the real world.’ Sheryl’s voice dripped acid. ‘Face facts, Miss Brown. We’ve all been made a mockery of by a trusted member of our
own
Society.’

The group’s collective gaze followed Sheryl’s manicured finger to where it pointed at the shaking, mottled face of Audrey Cracknell. Audrey’s eyes were still fixed on her lap. Alice could see ripples of emotion wobbling through her cheeks and into her juddering bosom.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Sheryl continued mercilessly, like a big cat about to bite into the jugular. ‘I put it to you that Audrey Cracknell is not married at all. Audrey Cracknell is actually
single
.’

Someone in the group whimpered. ‘Single’ was not a word they used about each other. ‘Single’ was a crime against their profession. Wendy Arthur stopped sponging her skirt and lifted her hand to her mouth in horror.

Alice started moving towards her boss, weaving between the chairs to get to her.

‘She
hasn’t
got a significant other,’ Sheryl mocked. ‘She’s
got no romantic qualifications to be a matchmaker at all! Audrey Cracknell, who has for years lived off the profits of her supposedly “expert” dating advice, is nothing more than . . .’ – Sheryl paused before plunging in her final knife – ‘a
spinster
!’

‘Goodness!’ said Ernie.

‘Holy Moly!’ said Barry Chambers.

‘Fuck me!’ said Cassandra.

Alice had reached Audrey. She put her hand on her shoulder. She could feel her shaking violently, like a volcano about to erupt.

‘I’ve told you all today so we can work out –
as a group
– how to deal with this,’ Sheryl continued. ‘If the public got to hear about it we’d
all
be discredited. We’d be called frauds and romantic failures. We’d be ruined. I have no choice but to table a motion that
Miss
Cracknell be barred from our Society with immediate effect.’

The room broke into a roar of chatter.

Suddenly Alice’s hand shot up off Audrey’s shoulder and into the air. Audrey had finally blown. Her chair scraped back with an angry, injured yelp, silencing the room. Audrey was on her feet, her eyes pink and bulging with rage.

‘This is none of your business!’ she yelled like a wounded beast. ‘
My life
is none of your business,’ she roared, her furious face framed by the fire of her ginger hair. Alice had never seen her look more terrifying. ‘John and I are in love.
In love!
’

A few Society members had the grace to cough nervously. A fat tear rolled down Audrey’s face, wobbled and then
splattered onto her bosom. She scooped up her bag and nearly knocked Alice over in her rush to get out of the room, Sheryl’s flyer flapping in her fist.