The Dating Game (23 page)

‘But you have the business, it’s not the same.’

Actually Lisa was right.  In many ways the business was just
like having a baby.

When Debbie returned from making her call, they drank a glass
of cava each then decided they would head down to Barceloneta after all. 
According to the map, it wasn’t very far away.  Ten minutes later, they
strolled along the promenade.  It was six thirty and as they were hungry, the
girls wandered round to one of the restaurants Angela and Gill had spotted the
day before.  The huge queue, which they had reluctantly joined, seemed to
dissipate fast.  The aroma wafting out of the restaurant and from the plates
set in front of the outside diners had the girls almost drooling.  Juicy
steaks, cooked to perfection prawns, crab and oysters.

‘Oh, I hadn’t realised I was so hungry,’ said Gill, stomach
rumbling ominously.

‘Me neither,’ Lisa said, ‘but if you think about it, it’s
been about six hours since we ate, maybe more.’

A smartly dressed waiter escorted them to an outside table. 
Fans whirred from the wooden canopy overhead.  After perusing the menu, the
girls asked for the waiter’s recommendation.  Shortly afterwards, plates
bearing
esqueixada
covered the table, accompanied by the wine they had
ordered.

‘What is it exactly?’ Gill asked.

‘Raw salt cod with peppers and onions,’ Angela nudged the
plate slightly closer to Gill, who was eyeing it with distaste.

‘Did we not mention to the waiter that we weren’t sushi
lovers?’ Gill screwed up her face.

‘Just try a bit,’ Debbie coaxed her.

Gill cut off a piece, regarded it dubiously then finally
popped it in her mouth.  She chewed a few times and then said,  ‘It’s actually
not bad.  A bit salty, but…’

‘Eh, it’s salt cod,’ Lisa said.

‘True.’

The next course consisted of a mixed platter of seafood, the
freshest, most enormous prawns they had ever seen, oysters, massive mussels and
crab claws.  The girls soon scoffed it and were ashamed to admit they still had
space.

‘I quite fancied the stew, but I think that will have to
wait until tomorrow.  There’s no way I’ve got room for it,’ said Gill.

‘I should think not, after we’ve just eaten that ginormous
platter of seafood!’ Debbie laughed. ‘Maybe it’s the sea air making you
hungry.’

‘Maybe.  Why don’t we have a wee rest and then see if we
have room for dessert?’

They did as Gill suggested and chatted about what they
expected over at
Montjuic
that night for the fireworks.

‘I’ve heard the sound and light show is fantastic.  I heard
they synchronise the movement of the water in the fountains to the light and
the music.  And there’s apparently a recording of ‘Barcelona’ by Montserrat
Caballe and Freddy Mercury which gets blasted out in time to the fountains,’
said Debbie.

‘Nobody’s mentioned that to me,’ said Lisa, ‘and Cara from
the salon visited
Montjuic
a few months back for the light show.’

Gill’s phone buzzed as they pored over the dessert menu half
an hour later.  She had already chosen
crema catalana
, since she’d been
dying to try it for ages.  Delving in her bag, she pulled out her phone and saw
she had another e-mail message.  Caroline Morgan.  How bizarre – working on a
Sunday.  Maybe like Gill, she just worked every day of the week.

‘Hi Gill.  Sorry things didn’t proceed
with Mark; however, I have someone just about to complete registration who I
think is right up your street.  Will send details mid-week, Caroline.’

Gill read out the e-mail to the others, who professed that
to be a positive step, although Lisa said, ‘How are you going to keep track of
all these blokes?’  She meant it as a joke, but Gill was beginning to wonder
the same thing herself.  She would need to do some serious thinking when she
got back.

Stuffed with
crema catalana
, Gill suggested they walk
back to the
Ramblas
, where they could take the metro out to
Plaça de
Espanya
, where the
Montjuic
fountains were.  They had plenty of
time.  The fireworks would start around ten o’clock, but they wanted to be
there beforehand, to get a good spot.

The metro was overrun with people coming and going in all
directions.  At least it was only a few stops to
Plaça de Espanya
.  The
cream and red Venetian towers impressed Gill the moment she stepped out of the
station.  The symmetrical fountains sprayed arcs of water into the air.  At the
end of the rows of fountains, steps led up to another strata which housed the
main fountain and looming above that, lay the majestic
Palau Nacional
art gallery.  As the girls shuffled along the pedestrianised walkway, it
occurred to Gill that the view towards the art gallery, even in daytime, would
be quite spectacular.

Several thousand people milled around, patiently waiting for
the fireworks and light show.  The majority appeared to be locals, although a
good mix of tourists, cameras at the ready, were also present.  The girls chose
a position as close as they could to where they believed the main action would
take place.

After forty minutes, even Gill’s fuse was about to blow.  ‘I
thought it would have started by now,’ she moaned, leaning on Angela for
support.  Her legs ached, as did the others’.  ‘Wasn’t the light show meant to
begin twenty minutes ago?’

‘Maybe it isn’t on during the festival?’ repeated Angela. 
They were on the verge of calling it a day, when music started up and lights
came on in the National Gallery.  The presenter said a few words and the crowd
went crazy.  The atmosphere was suddenly charged.  Cameras flashed and then the
first of the fireworks shot up in the air.

Faster and faster, a dizzying variety of fireworks exploded
into the Catalan sky.  What a racket!  Twenty-five minutes of non-stop noise,
excitement, screams, shouts, squeals, bangs and electric ambiance.  With the
grand finale of the mortars, the presenter proclaimed the
Mercè
festival
2011 closed.

It took a good twenty minutes for the girls to make it into
the metro and onto a train.  By the time they finally emerged at
Liceu
,
they were hot and sticky and gasping for a drink.  A nightcap was called for at
Bar del Pi
.

They managed a brandy then headed for bed.  Tomorrow would
be the last day of their holiday and they intended to make the most of it.

Monday 26th September

As they didn’t have to leave for the airport until around two
thirty, the girls thought they would have a nice breakfast somewhere, before
going to the
Museu de la Xocolata
together.  They’d pick up their
luggage from the hotel afterwards then take the bus to the airport.  They wandered
up
Passeig de Gràcia
and found a little café which offered delicious
pastries, including the famous Catalan favourite,
cabell d’àngel
.
Despite the heat, they decided to have hot chocolate, the house speciality.  It
was thick and delicious and you could have stood a spoon up in it.

‘This is very moreish, isn’t it?’ said Debbie, ‘Do you think
they have tins of it you can take back home?’ she asked hopefully.

Angela shook her head, ‘Sorry love, I think this is a made
on the premises number.’

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Lisa said, licking some off her spoon.

After a leisurely breakfast, they set off on the fifteen
minute walk to the chocolate museum.

The girls regressed to childhood for a few hours, as they
made their own chocolate lollipops and chocolate bars.  Gill chose milk
chocolate with pine nuts; Debbie, white chocolate with lime peel; Lisa, dark
chocolate with raisins, and Angela went for raspberries and orange peel with
dark chocolate.

In addition to their own concoctions, the girls each bought
chocolate gifts.  As they walked back to the hotel, they discussed what a great
experience it had been.

‘Hope the chocolate doesn’t melt by the time we get it home,’
worried Lisa, a major chocoholic, as they left the hotel again.

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.  Anyway, just stick it in the
fridge when you get home and it’ll harden again,’ Debbie suggested.

‘There’s a joke in there somewhere,’ Lisa never missed an
opportunity.

‘Hysterical, Lise.  Right, we best head up to the bus stop. 
Don’t want to miss the bus now, do we?’

The others followed Debbie as she rolled her carry-on case
behind her, up the
Ramblas
and onto
Passeig de Gràcia
.

Before long the bus took them to the airport and after a
short wait, their flight took off, homeward bound.

As the plane soared into the air, Gill asked herself,
What
now?

Tuesday 27th September

‘Janice, can you tell Angus, I’ll call him back?  I’m on the
mobile,’ Gill shouted through from her office.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said to the candidate she was
talking to.  ‘Yes, so, hopefully I should hear back by Friday about final
interviews.  I’ll call you to let you know.’

Gill sat her mobile down on her desk, and running her
fingers through her hair, exhaled heavily. Her break to Barcelona seemed a
lifetime ago already, and she was only halfway through the day.  The phones had
been ringing non-stop.

She checked her contact list for Angus’ number then dialled
from her office phone.  After two rings she said, ‘Angus, thanks for calling. 
How are you?’  Gill listened to her new employee’s questions, and when she had
answered them all, said ‘Enjoy the rest of your day off.  See you tomorrow.’

Right, what do I need to attack next?
  Janice had
left her a list of calls.  Those took priority. Gill was relieved she had kept
e-mails under control, as today had been pandemonium, and she still needed to
work out Angus’ schedule for  the next few days.

Janice entered her office just after two and said, ‘You need
to eat, you’ve been working flat out since you got in at seven.’

‘I know, but there’s still so much to sort out by tomorrow. 
I’ll eat tonight.’

‘No, you won’t,’ insisted Janice.  ‘I’ve bought you a
chicken tikka wrap and I want to hear all about your trip.’

Resigned, Gill agreed.  She probably ought to take a break
away from the computer, anyway. Janice was right.  Janice was always right. 
The thought made Gill smile.

As they ate their lunch, Janice asked Gill all about
Barcelona.  She was particularly envious of the festival, having heard great
things about it.  When she asked about men, Gill’s response was unsatisfactory.

‘You’re a lot of good,’ Janice joked.  ‘You go to a country
full of hot men and you’re too busy pining over one back here.’

‘As one of my friends said, I like my men pale and
interesting.’

‘OK, so you’re useless on that score.  What about the grub? 
I love Spanish food –
paella, chorizo, jamón Serrano
.’

‘Oh Janice, the food was to die for. I’m sure I’ve put on at
least a couple of pounds,’ Gill looked ruefully at her stomach.  The waistband
of the trousers she had thrown on that morning definitely felt tighter than
usual.  Maybe it was time to go to Weightwatchers.  Janice leant forward on the
table, drinking in every detail Gill told her about the Spanish cuisine, the
various
tapas
they had tried, and the amazing restaurants in which they
had dined.

‘I’m so jealous.  Makes me want to go and book a short
break.’

‘So why don’t you?’ Gill eyed her evenly.  ‘Nothing to stop
you.’

‘Apart from not having the cash.’

‘Can’t you save up?’

‘I suppose, but it means going without other stuff, like my
weekly Chinese, or buying a new book, or a pair of trousers.’

‘Ah, well, when I really want something, I cut back on
everything else, to make sure I can get it.’

Gill saw everything in black and white.  Pity her love life
wasn’t as simple as that.

Brushing a stray piece of wrap from her blouse onto her
napkin, Gill thanked Janice for making her take a break, but said she really
needed to get back to it.

A wonderful surprise awaited Gill in her e-mail.  She had
been awarded three contracts she had been working on recently.  Three.  That
was unheard of, in such a short space of time, and all for multiple candidate
placements, too.  It really gave her the lift she needed, post-holiday.  And
with Angus starting tomorrow, things were truly looking up.

Wednesday 28th September

As usual Gill was first to arrive at the office.  At least
whenever she drove in to work, she tended to get a parking spot right outside. 
Today she felt organised and motivated.  She’d gone home last night, called her
mum and her brother to tell them about her trip, and then made pasta.

After five days in Spain, she couldn’t face eating a ready
meal.  She was on a mission – new, healthy Gill.  If possible, she wanted to
try to cook at least four or five times a week, unless of course she ate out,
which when she thought about it, was fairly regularly at the moment.  After
watching a bit of TV, she had showered and then gone to bed with a book.  When
had she last done that?

Angus arrived at ten to nine.  Gill let him in, asked him to
take a seat in the conference room, and offered him coffee.

Gill chatted with him briefly and then got straight down to
business.

‘Angus, as you can see, from a recruitment consultancy
perspective, I’ve been a one-man, or one-woman band until now,’ Gill smiled at
him, as she placed her mug on a coaster.  ‘For such a small enterprise, the
agency has a lot of clients, and whilst I was away in Barcelona the last few
days, we have just won three more, so we’re going to be busy.’  Gill shuffled
the papers in front of her.  Angus, seated to her right, reviewed those she
passed to him.

‘These are the accounts I want you to be responsible for
initially.  I’ve given you a mix of small and medium accounts for now.  I’m not
going to pass you any of our really big fish right away, but that will change
in the next few months.  There’s a lot of potential with these accounts.  I’ve
also highlighted in red those that I think need your immediate focus.  Plus
I’ve made some notes which might help you with some of the trickier customers.’

Angus glanced up at her,  ‘Sounds good.’  Looking through
the list, he pointed to one or two names, indicating that he had dealt with
them in the past.

Gill went on to explain that of the three brand new customers,
she intended him to be the lead on one of them.  They would meet the client
together the following week, but she would already start copying him in on
their correspondence.

‘Your business cards should be here tomorrow.  Janice
ordered them on Friday.  I’ve arranged a telephone extension for you and the
desk next to Janice’s will be for you to use when you’re in the office.  If
this conference room isn’t booked, and Janice can tell you that, or you can
check the scheduler, feel free to come in and use it, to get away from
distractions.  Working from a laptop does have its advantages.’

Angus agreed that being portable certainly helped.  After
Gill ran through further instructions, and advised him that she wanted him to
sit with Janice for a part of that morning, so she could show him the systems
they used, she asked him if he had any questions.

‘No, that all seems clear.  I did want to point out that I
have some clients that you haven’t mentioned.  Now, perhaps you do already have
relationships with them, but I made a list of my clients so that I could
compare them against yours.  There are bound to be a couple you haven’t dealt
with.’

Gill took the sheet of paper which Angus withdrew from his
briefcase.  It contained a list of some thirty names, most of them known to
her, but also five new ones.

‘OK, in addition to the existing clients I’ve transferred to
you, I’d like you to see who you can convert from your list.’  She made a few
markings on his sheet and returned it to him.  They left the conference room
and Gill entrusted Angus to Janice’s care.  She had a good feeling about this
young man.  He was bright, articulate, showed initiative, and she thought they
might all have a laugh together – essential in such a small workplace.

Gill spent a great part of the time Janice was training
Angus on the systems, arranging appointments with the clients she intended to
pass to him.  It was very important to highlight the agency’s professionalism. 
Yes, it would be time-consuming, but she wanted to make a proper, formal
introduction to her clients, rather than a perfunctory e-mail or phone call to
confirm the handover.

Around one o’clock, Janice came through to ask Gill what she
wanted for lunch.  Was that the time?  Angus volunteered to nip across to the
café to get lunch.  Once he had gone, Janice and Gill exchanged a look of
approval.

‘How’s the systems training going?’ Gill asked.

‘Fine, we’re nearly finished.  Just have invoicing to show
him.’

Although the recruitment consultants wouldn’t deal with all
aspects of admin, Gill felt it important they know every facet of the
business.  In a small company, everyone needed to be hands-on.

‘Great.  Amanda, after lunch, can you come in to my office
for a second?’

Gill had received an e-mail from Janice, advising that
Amanda’s work ethic and enthusiasm were exemplary and that they’d got on like a
house on fire.  Janice had recommended they keep her on, if possible.

Knowing that two recruitment consultants would create more
work and having Janice’s buy-in, Gill had done her sums and decided that the
agency could afford it.

The four sat companionably in the conference room eating
lunch together, with Janice or Amanda getting the phone whenever it rang.

Angus told them that he lived in the west end in a flat he
had been in since his student days.  As Amanda and he started talking about
pubs and clubs, Gill assessed her new hire.  At five feet seven or so, you
couldn’t call him tall; ginger hair, freckly faced and with open body
language.  He had a belly laugh, which made Gill smile.  Some comment Amanda
had made had set him off.  It was a warm, rich laugh and again, Gill had the
sensation of having made the right decision.  The platinum wedding ring he wore
glinted in the sunlight, and Gill wondered why she hadn’t realised he was
married before now.  Did he have kids?  It didn’t matter.  She felt sure he
would give her agency one hundred percent and that was all that she cared
about.

Amanda was delighted with the news that she was being kept
on, subject to acceptance of the contract Gill would draw up for her.  At one
stage Gill feared Amanda might hug her, so she had been glad of the desk
separating them.

Towards the end of the day, Gill spent a bit more time with
Angus in the conference room, as they planned out the next few weeks.  She had
already received a couple of meeting confirmations.  One client had been a tad
bolshie, but she knew how to handle him.  She’d go and meet him alone first,
and arrange to have a meeting with both her and Angus a few days later.  It had
been a productive day and Gill couldn’t help feeling excited that her agency
was entering a new era.

A quick trip to the supermarket for some essentials on the
way and Gill was home by seven thirty.  She was determined to learn to cook. 
Pasta was the only thing she knew how to make and that was because often it
just meant pouring a sauce over it.  It was time to turn over a new leaf. 
Today she would prepare grilled chicken breast.  Even she couldn’t go wrong
with that.

For a first attempt, Gill thought she had done pretty well. 
OK, some of the floury coating was probably thicker in some places than in
others, but it didn’t taste too bad and it was cooked properly.

Satisfied with her culinary efforts, she sat back, replete,
and began checking her messages and e-mails.  There were a few more replies to
her meeting requests.  She responded to these and then checked her personal
e-mail, hoping to see a message from Anton.  Nothing.  Gill felt a twinge of
unease.  Wouldn’t it be normal for a man to get in touch after sharing what
they had?  It hadn’t just been sex, she’d felt sure of it.  She couldn’t
believe that’s all it had been to him.  She’d give it a few more days.  Yet she
couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming sadness, at the sensation of something
lost.

There was a message from Charlie.  Charlie.  She’d almost
forgotten about him, with all that had been going on.  But who could forget the
few passionate moments they had shared.

‘Hi Gill.  Hope you enjoyed yourself in
Barcelona.  Keen to hear all about it.  I’ve been thinking about you…a lot. 
Are you free on Saturday?  Charlie x’

Gill debated for about ten minutes, then deciding if Anton
wasn’t going to make more of an effort, she may as well go out with Charlie,
she bashed out a reply.

‘Hi Charlie, had a great time, thanks. 
Hope you are well.  Unfortunately not free Saturday. What about the following
Saturday?  Gill.’
  No kiss.  In many ways it was lucky she was already
meeting Gary on Saturday, as she felt less threatened by him, more sure that
nothing would happen between them.  She gave herself a shake.  So why go out
with him then? Because he’s a nice guy, her inner voice told her.

Putting a ten day hold on Charlie would give her more time
to sort her head out.

In her heart, she knew she wouldn’t sleep with Charlie,
although it was certainly tempting.  He’d be dynamite in bed.  His skilled
seduction of her that night had proven that.  She had felt as if she were in a
dream, and it had taken her a while to snap back to reality and put a stop to
proceedings, before things got out of hand.

Charlie was sitting on the sofa, drinking a glass of wine and
watching the news, when his phone buzzed.  He read Gill’s e-mail and almost
gave a jump for joy.  She hadn’t got away from him just yet.  He was a little
annoyed that he couldn’t see her this week.  He’d have to make some
arrangements for next weekend now, with regard to his daughter, who was meant
to be staying with him.  But nothing was going to get in the way of him
spending time with Gill.  Charlie quickly e-mailed back, saying that was fine,
but could they meet around five o’clock, as he wanted to take her to a place
about an hour’s drive from the city.

Charlie cast his mind back to that night in his flat, when
he had almost had her.  He had been so hard and she had been so ready for him. 
But then something within her changed, the shutters came down and soon
afterwards, she’d gone, leaving him with a raging erection and nothing he could
do about it.  He wanted to screw her so badly, wanted to taste her, kiss her
breasts, feel himself inside her.  Just thinking about it now made him really
horny.

A voice disturbed his musings, ‘Darling, would you like
another glass of wine?’

Charlie looked up at his wife, who had just entered the
living room.  He stood up, walked over to her and said, ‘No, but I know what I
do want,’ as he unzipped her dress.