‘I’m terribly sorry, ma’am.’ The young waiter’s apologies tumble out to her, his face aflame with embarrassment. ‘May I serve madam something else from the menu?’
‘No you cannot. It would no doubt be the wrong one. This is what happens when one eats with riff-raff in common restaurants,’ she adds in what I assume she thinks is an undertone to her companion. ‘Bring me a tisane – plain, mind you, and some fresh, that is fresh, artisan bread with a little butter. And hurry it up or my companion will have finished his entire dinner by the time I have been served properly.’
The hapless waiter scurries away, bearing the offending pheasant dish before him. It looks really nice actually, I would love to eat it, but I’m so hungry I’d probably eat pretty much anything.
At a table nearer to me is the elegant lady with her hair swept up into a bun. I think she is the one Izzy said had been jilted at the altar, Maria or something like that. She is seated opposite a smart-looking man in naval uniform but this date night is not looking very successful for these two either. The silence between them is audible. She’s picking delicately at her food, as though she wants to be anywhere but here, and he’s moodily staring out of the window. Not exactly a match made in heaven.
Across the room, I notice Rob Bright, unmissable in smart jacket, bow tie and jeans, waxing lyrical about something boring, no doubt. His date seems to be as usual a total mismatch; she is very slight and dainty with dark curls, beautiful make-up and a tiny little dress which looks like Gucci. The dress makes me wild with envy but she is obviously not happy with her date either, and is giving Rob short monosyllabic replies, which he doesn’t appear to take any notice of anyway.
‘Sophie!’ Thank goodness, Emma has arrived. I’m so glad to see her as I’ve been feeling a bit abandoned. ‘Is Daniel not here yet?’ she asks, surprised. ‘He was meant to be here over half an hour ago. Still, I suppose the man is allowed to have some faults and I haven’t noticed any others yet. I’ll give him a buzz on my mobile.’
The door of the restaurant opens and in strolls a tall, good-looking man with light brown wavy hair and a tanned freckled face with an attractive grazing of stubble. Oh my gosh, can this be Daniel? I can’t believe my luck; he’s gorgeous.
Emma goes to meet him and brings him over. He responds well to her gentle teasing for his poor timekeeping, his cheeky grin revealing impossibly white teeth. I feel suddenly shy but he comes up and kisses me on the cheek in a heady and expensive whiff of Davidoff.
‘Hi, Sophie. Lovely to meet you at last.’ His voice is warm and friendly, not too deep with a slightly ironic tone to it as though he has a sense of humour lurking underneath waiting to bubble to the surface.
‘Hi, at last?’ I can’t resist asking.
‘Yes, I’ve heard so much about you from the lovely Emma here.’ He smiles and touches Emma’s arm with a friendly pat.
‘How nice.’ I’m so bad at taking a compliment. I think it’s an English thing. Even when someone admires my outfit, I find myself responding with, ‘Oh, it’s only New Look,’ or something disingenuous like that.
I notice every female eye in the room has turned on Daniel and I feel a twinge of pride that he’s standing and talking to me.
‘I’ll leave you two to find your table.’ Like her namesake, Emma is adept at this matchmaking business and trips away to talk to the maître d’.
‘Shall we then?’ Daniel gently places his arm round my shoulders to guide me towards our table. He pulls my chair out for me in true gentlemanly fashion and I mentally give him a huge tick. From a nearby seat, Rob Bright gives me a cheery wave and I mechanically smile back, hoping he will carry on talking to his partner. You would have thought my walking off without him on our date the other day might have given him the hint I’m not in the least interested, but it’s obviously going to take something far more major than this to get Rob to understand anything.
‘Sophie? Hello?’ Oh no, Daniel’s been talking to me and I’ve totally missed what he’s trying to say and if I admit that I haven’t been listening, that’s really rude and not exactly a good start to our date.
‘Sorry, I erm…’ I blush rather awkwardly.
‘It’s okay.’ Daniel smiles. ‘I often daydream too, though not generally at the beginning of a date, I tend to leave that till later, unless I’m really bored!’
‘Oh, no,’ I stutter, ‘I wasn’t daydreaming, it’s just I…’
Then I realise he’s pulling my leg. Second big tick, this guy has a sense of humour. We laugh and I relax a little. For the first time in, like forever, it looks like this date might be fun. I certainly feel lucky with Daniel. Pretty much every other woman in the room is still sending him admiring glances and I already begin to wish we didn’t have to swap round for the next course. This date is worth getting to know a whole lot better.
Chapter 13
The problem is, when I really like someone, I either get tongue-tied and can’t think of anything vaguely coherent to say, or I come out with utter gibberish as though I’ve been drinking, even when I haven’t. It’s so annoying. When I’m with someone like Rob, it isn’t a problem as I don’t like him in that way, in fact, strike that, I don’t like him in any way, but you know what I mean. Yet, as soon as someone attractive comes along, I become totally useless.
Still, Daniel is such a nice guy; he puts me at ease, keeping up a constant stream of chatter, so I soon feel more able to communicate normally, instead of making a complete idiot of myself.
‘So, what do you do?’ I ask in between mouthfuls of delicious chicken liver pate. Incidentally the food is incredibly yummy. I didn’t like to mention it too much in case it detracts from the whole point, which is Daniel, not the food.
‘I work in the city. It’s basically freelance consulting in investment banking.’
‘Oh.’ This is an absolute disaster. Daniel seems too fun-loving to be a boring old investment banker. That’s it, I suddenly remember, speaking of bankers, Sir Henry Greaves – he’s the old guy sitting over in the corner opposite Miss Snooty who was complaining about her pheasant. I knew I remembered him from somewhere. How hideous. I hope I don’t end up with him for the next course; that would be terrible. It was bad enough last time.
Daniel smiles at me, showing his perfect teeth. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he says (probably not, I think, I hate it when people say they know what I’m thinking), ‘that bankers are normally old and boring (yes, actually maybe that is what I was thinking) but we’re not all like that as I shall have to prove to you.’
‘No, I’m sure you’re not, you don’t seem boring at all, I mean…’ Back to embarrassing, I can tell I’m turning horribly red.
But Daniel just laughs; he is really nice. I like him a lot.
By the time he’s recounted amusing anecdotes about his job and I’ve regaled him with tales from Modiste, the time flies by.
We’ve already finished our first course and I’m hoping somehow we can stay at our table and not move, when I notice two men walk in. I can’t see who they are, but assume they are here on a date and a bit late. They’re both wearing long coats and look very smart.