‘Christ, I wouldn’t have a bloody clue.’ He ducked his head under the table. Popping up again he said, ‘I don’t suppose those came from Clarks did they?’
‘No, they bloody didn’t.’ I figured it was safe to swear with him.
‘So what should I ask?’
Just as I began the penguin buzzed into life again. ‘Too late.’ I grinned. ‘Now you’ll never know the perfect girl question.’
He got to his feet and I was gratified to see he looked regretful.
‘Ah well, it’s all over when the penguin sings. Maybe see you later.’ His eyes met mine and he grinned.
Should I circle a yes around number eight? He had potential. I wondered what Emily would make of him. She’d probably run screaming. She liked a certain level of sophistication in a man.
* * *
Making up my mind, I shoved the card out of sight as the next candidate appeared, hopping anxiously up and down in front of me. Boyishly good-looking but on the small side, he clutched his card to his chest. I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously. I smiled, hoping to put him at his ease. Now I’d got the first two dates over with, I felt much more relaxed. In fact I was quite curious now to see what the evening would bring. The new guy didn’t say anything just stood rigidly in front of me, arms stiff down at his sides and his legs slightly apart, as if rooted to the spot.
‘Hi, I’m Olivia.’ I leant forward and put out my hand with another encouraging smile.
‘Peter.’ He straightened and pushed out his chest. I bit back a smile wondering if he had a slight Napoleon complex; he was a good few inches shorter than me.
‘Hi, Peter.’
He nodded and sat down, fussing to pull his chair neatly into the table, looking down underneath it as if to check the legs were square.
‘I have three questions,’ he announced formally, his eyes meeting mine with a candid stare.
‘I started like that but. .. I’ve given up on those already. I find it easier to try a bit of an icebreaker.’ Still elated by my previous success with Ned, I launched in. ‘This is a good one... I promise.’
A flash of disapproval so brief I might have been mistaken crossed Peter’s face and for a moment I wondered if I’d been a bit presumptuous. ‘If you had to pick a superpower... what would it be? Flight or invisibility?’ I grinned at him in what I hoped was an engaging fashion, my eyes drawn to the hopelessly dated, knitted tank top he wore.
‘Flight or invisibility?’ he echoed deadpan, as if he’d never heard of either.
‘Yes.’
He stared at me, blue eyes behind thick lenses dissecting every feature of my face.
‘You know, like Superman or... the Invisible Man.’
‘They’re not real.’ He looked pained for a second and I felt a bit guilty. I guessed some people were taking this very seriously.
‘You’re supposed to ask proper questions. To find out if we’re compatible.’ He pulled a leaflet out of his pocket and I recognised some of Barney’s marketing blurb. ‘You’re supposed to find out what I like. What I’m looking for in a woman.’
I was tempted to remind him that it was a two-way deal, but I decided to let it go. It didn’t seem worth the effort.
‘So what do you look for in a woman?’ I asked almost wincing as I said the words out loud.
‘Good manners. Smartly dressed. Ladylike.’ His mouth narrowed. ‘I don’t really like girls that wear trousers all the time. It’s not very feminine.’
That counted me out then. ‘And I don’t like too much make-up.’
Unable to resist, I sighed. ‘Me too. I hate it when men wear too much make-up.’
Something blazed briefly in his eyes but it didn’t stop me asking, ‘So what do you bring to the party?’
‘I’m loyal, steadfast and one hundred per cent reliable. I don’t mess people around or let them down.’
Admirable enough qualities, but not enough to make me ignore the rampant male chauvinism. I opted for discretion as the better part of valour and killed the remainder of the time with a string of questions about him.
