It's Got to Be Perfect: the memoirs of a modern-day matchmaker (13 page)

Pretty, pretty please (with lashings of pink icing, and some of those sugary silver balls on top) give me the opportunity to meet with you. I promise you won’t be disappointed!

I have attached my CV and a photo of me hosting my annual “Cupid party” for single friends.

Yours hopefully!

Mandi

xxx

PS I’m free tonight.

I shielded my phone from the low rays of the setting sun and opened the image. I could just about make out what looked to be a real life Disney character: white-blonde hair, Colgate smile and teeny-tiny pink Cupid outfit complete with bow and arrow. I smiled, lifting my face to the sun and let the warmth soak in, knowing it would soon be lost to the concrete horizon.

By the time I arrived at the club, the amber sky had turned inky blue and my phone sprung to life, Cassandra’s number flashing on the screen. The accompanying ring tone seemed louder than usual, as though it had adjusted its volume to reflect the caller. It was the seventh time she’d called that day and I’d meant to return her call along with William’s four missed calls, as they had obviously been on a date and had something to tell me. But for some reason, I’d been putting it off.

I let Cassandra’s call go to voicemail, and called William first, suspecting his version of events would be kinder to my eardrums.

‘Hi, how are you?’

‘Hello Ellie. Sorry. Can you hold on a moment?’ His voice was hushed, and his words were followed by some rustling, and the sound of footsteps on a tiled floor. ‘Right, that’s better, ouch, ow.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Not really. I’m in hospital.’

The phone nearly slipped from my grasp. ‘Oh God, what happened?’

‘It’s all a tad embarrassing really.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Nothing serious though. I broke something.’

‘Broke something?’

‘Yes. Something personal.’

‘Something personal?’
What
, I thought,
like his watch?

‘Something private.’

‘Something private?’

He sighed. ‘Please don’t make me say it.’

I heard more groans and then fortunately, for both of us, the penny finally dropped.

‘Oh God. Oh dear. Poor you. Will
it
be okay?’

‘The doctors say I need to rest it.’

I imagined a willy with a thermometer lying on a sofa.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ I asked. ‘Or Cassandra, perhaps she could help?’

‘Well she’s the one who got me into this fine mess in the first place.’ He laughed. ‘Ow, laughing is not a good idea.’

After William, evidently growing more at ease with the topic, had gone on to explain the entire treatment plan, which included a pioneering program of rehabilitative physiotherapy, I became desperate to steer the conversation away from the anatomical fragility of the male member.

‘So, apart from the, the incident, the date went well?’

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I suppose.’

‘You suppose?’

‘She was nice.’

Of all the words to describe Cassandra, nice was not one that immediately sprang to mind.

‘But,’ he went on, ‘she’s probably a bit too much for me.’

Ah,
I thought,
here comes the truth
. I checked my watch. I only had a few minutes to spare. ‘Try to sum up your thoughts in one sentence.’

He took a deep breath. ‘She was lovely-looking: slim, elegant, well-dressed. Great skirt. It was pleated. And quite short, rather like a tennis–’

‘One sentence, William,’ I interrupted.

‘Oh yes, okay. Right.’

‘Did you like her personality?’

‘She was a little loud.’ He paused. ‘But she made me laugh and she was clever too.’ He paused again. ‘I think I’m going to need a few more sentences.’

I laughed. ‘Okay.’

‘And she drank a lot.’

‘That’s quite normal though.’

‘No I mean, she drank
a lot.
She’d drained her glass before I’d even picked mine up. Then she got this wild look in her eye.’

‘Wild?’

‘When we left the bar, she dragged me into a cab …’ He interrupted himself with a nervous laugh ‘… and then back at her flat it was as though she were … how do I put this?’

‘Just say it.’

He coughed. ‘Ouch.’ I heard some more rustling, and then he cleared his throat. ‘Okay, if you must know, it felt as though she were auditioning for a triple X-rated
Cirque du Soleil
.’

I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it for a moment, while my mind conjured imagery for contemporary clown porn. ‘Did you tell her to stop?’

He paused again. ‘I did, eventually.’

‘What do you mean eventually?’

‘I think it was at the point she launched herself at me from a sex swing while brandishing a riding crop. And then again, when she clamped my nipples. And once again when she inserted some kind of plugging device up my bottom.’

I giggled, though this time more from panic than amusement.

‘Any protest just seemed to encourage her. If I’m honest, hospital was a welcome relief.’

Concerned I might be liable for William’s future therapy sessions, I ended the call with a promise to note his preference for missionary twice a week and “a special treat” at the weekend. Then, I shook my head to try to lose the disturbing image of a naked Cassandra, flying through the air, to the soundtrack of “Alegria”.

A gale had begun to whip up outside, so I moved into the club, before dialling her number.

‘Oh. My. God. Ellie!’ she bellowed, as the wind funnelled down the stairs behind me. Struggling to turn the volume down, I accidently hit the loudspeaker button. ‘I didn’t even know that a penis could break. Did you? Have you ever broken one?’

Her voice boomed across reception like a misjudged sound check. A group of men waiting to be seated stopped talking and looked over.

‘No. But I’m sure it happens all the time,’ I replied, pressing buttons until I was confident the loudspeaker function had been disabled. The men nodded, while Marie smiled with what looked to be a kind of satisfied recollection.
Maybe it did happen all the time?
I thought.
Perhaps I should add it to my list of things to do before I’m thirty
.

‘I didn’t do anything, it just sort of slipped out, you know. When I landed back down on his lap he started screaming.’

‘Landed?’

‘He was writhing all over the place like I’d torn it off or something. A real drama queen. So, I called a taxi to take him to hospital.’

‘You didn’t go with him?’

‘No. Is he okay?’

‘Yes, he’s fine. He just needs to rest it.’

She laughed. ‘Rest it? Does it get its own hospital bed and gown?’

‘Cassandra.’

‘Sorry, but it is funny.’

When her extended belly laugh had concluded, she explained that, although William was a lovely guy, she’d prefer a man more “up for the job” next time.

Then was, I realised, the time when a professional matchmaker was supposed to offer insightful feedback. I moved to the corner of reception to talk more privately, although I was aware that ship had already sailed.

‘Could I offer you some advice?’

‘Go on then,’ she replied.

‘Maybe tone it down a bit next time.’

‘Tone what down?’

The men were still loitering around the reception desk clearly in no hurry to be seated.

‘Perhaps save the sex toys for your second date,’ I said in a hushed voice.

‘What? I can’t hear you. Speak up!’

I expanded my point slowly and clearly. The words “anal” and “plug” bounced back at me from the acoustics of the reception walls. The men’s concealed sniggers were quickly drowned out by Cassandra’s laughter cackling down the phone.

‘Don’t be such a prude. You English, seriously. That was only my starter pack. I’ve got the proper stuff in the dungeon.’

‘What?’

‘I’m joking.’

I sighed. ‘Listen, whipping out a butt plug on the first night will put most men off. And the men who
are
into it probably wouldn’t stick around for a relationship.’

‘
C’est la vie
. They obviously aren’t the right men for me then. I’ll wait for one who loves me for who I am. Next!’

When I’d ended the call, with a promise to add “open-minded” to Cassandra’s list of wants in a man, I made my way down the second staircase and towards the bar. Through the crowd, I noticed a pretty blonde on a stool at the bar. She waved at me and I walked over.

‘Claire?’

She nodded.

‘Sorry I’m late, having one of those days,’ I explained, pulling up a stool next to her.

‘I heard,’ she replied in a Californian accent. ‘I walked past you at reception. Did she really plug his ass?’

I nodded and she laughed.

After Steve had poured us each a glass of wine, she explained why Nate had suggested I meet her.

‘He’s my twin brother,’ she began, flashing teeth identical to his. ‘I know him better than he knows himself. But …’ She took a sip of wine ‘… this whole process is pointless. He’s wasting your time. No one will measure up.’

‘To what?’

‘To whom, you mean. To Rebecca, his first love.’

When she explained that Nate and Rebecca had been inseparable since high school, she dragged her nails along the brass edge of the bar.

‘She was like a sister to me,’ she said, just as one of them snapped off. ‘But then Nate fucked it all up.’

I frowned. ‘How?’

She examined the nail tip and then threw it on the floor. ‘Sleeping around.’

She went on to explain that when Nate’s acting career took off, fans started throwing themselves at him and that he was too weak to resist.

‘And, of course after a few years, when the bright lights had faded and the groupies had lost their appeal, he realised that a quiet family life was exactly what he wanted. And Rebecca was the one he wanted it with.’

‘And now she’s with someone else?’

‘Yes, married, baby on the way.’ She looked down. ‘But …’

‘But what?’

‘She still loves him.’

‘Oh.’

‘But, she’d never take him back. She’d sooner stay in a loveless marriage than forgive him for what he did.’

‘How do you know it’s loveless?’ I asked, thinking of the baby about to be born into this.

‘She loves Nate. She always has. But she knows he’s no good.’

‘He’s your brother.’

‘Once a cheater, always a cheater.’

‘You really believe that?’

She nodded. ‘Anyway, despite all this, it seems he’s determined for you to match him, so you may as well go through the motions. But I’m telling you, no one will be good enough, so best of luck.’

As she marched up the stairs and out of the bar, I wondered how a pretty girl, with the 555
^th
most popular name in America, had lost her faith in men.

Still perched on the stool, after the bar had emptied out, I noticed a stream of light shining down from the ceiling. I looked up to see a skylight I hadn’t noticed before, tunnelled through the walls of the vaults. Outside, dusk had come and gone, yet a light shone through, brighter than the glow of the streetlamps and whiter than the sliver of moon.

Through the gleam, a girl bounced down the stairs, grinning and waving. Just as in her photo, her ice-white smile sparkled and her bright blonde hair shimmered as though she’d been doused in fairy dust. Wearing a hot pink pencil skirt and a tight white shirt, her corporate-Cupid ensemble was completed with a pink handbag from which she retrieved a heart-shaped notebook.

‘I’m so excited,’ she said as she sat down, ‘so, please excuse me if I talk too fast. I do that when I’m nervous. And excited. I’m so excited. I said that already, didn’t I? Sorry. Do you mind if I take notes?’

She gripped a sparkly pink pen, which had a glittery heart, bouncing on the end and stared at me.

Unsure as to what questions an employer should ask a potential matchmaker, I went with the first that sprang to mind.

‘What is love?’ I asked, hoping she wouldn’t misinterpret the question as a prompt to the lyrics of Haddaway’s one-hit-wonder.

She grinned, put down her pen, looked up to the skylight and then back down at me.

Half an hour later, after she had regurgitated her extensive knowledge on the topic of love, which appeared to be drawn from an array of Jennifer Aniston movies, Celine Dion lyrics and a broad spectrum of fairy tales, she eventually arrived at a conclusion.

‘Celine’s so wise, almost like a guru.’ She clasped her hands together. ‘She said that love was a single soul inhabiting two bodies. Isn’t that just magical, she’s amazing, isn’t she?’

‘I thought Aristotle said that?’

She frowned and then made a note in her book.

Next, with that day’s revelations still fresh in my mind, I decided to try her with some real life case studies. But before I’d fully considered how to form the sentence, the words blurted out.

‘Have you ever broken a penis?’

She cocked her head. ‘No, but I’m sure it’s quite a common occurrence.’

I smiled and then she flashed her shiny teeth and laughed.

‘Ah ha, that was brilliant. You were testing me, to see how I would deal with the more challenging scenarios. Brilliant. Did I do okay? I think I did. I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous though. I hope I passed. Did I pass?’

I nodded.

‘This is so exciting. I’m so good at dealing with issues like this. I don’t mean broken penises. Or is it
peni
? Like Cacti? Well, I probably would be, if required. When I was a girl guide, I was brilliant at first aid, won an extra badge for my slings. Not that a penis would need a sling. Or would it? But that’s not the point is it? What I meant was, I’m really good at dealing with personal issues like this. Like that – I love it. I’m rambling, I know, I’m just so excited, I love helping people, that’s what I meant to say. I’m talking too much, I know. I do that when I’m excited. I know, I said that. Sorry. Do you have any more questions? Please.’

I went on to describe the Nate-Rebecca scenario.

‘Well, that
is
a tricky one,’ she said and then took a deep breath. ‘On one hand, I can totally see how poor Rebecca might feel. I mean, all those girls, she must have been heartbroken. And she has every reason to worry that he might not change his ways. And she has a baby on the way. The baby needs a stable home. Deserves love, deserves its mum to be happy. But if Nate really has changed and, you know, grown up and all that, and realised that she is the love of his life, and if she still loves him, well then they should get back together.’ She took another deep breath. ‘But he can’t just swan back in her life and expect it all to go in his favour. He must earn her love and trust back and that starts by him changing his life before he even tries to get her back, to prove that he is serious. Don’t you think? Oh I really hope they can work it out. It would be so sad if they couldn’t work it out, wouldn’t it? Can I help them, if I get the job, can I help Nate and Rebecca, please?’