They seem to know Emma, who greets them with kisses and a warm welcome. They walk to the bar and as I look across, I realise with misgiving it is Nick Palmer-Wright and Darcy Drummond. Nick smiles at me and I wave cheerily, when I suddenly notice the expression on Darcy’s face. He looks furious. For goodness sake, what have I done this time? Actually though, his gaze isn’t focused on me, he’s glaring at Daniel. I turn to check out Daniel’s reaction in time to glimpse him giving a slight smile in greeting. How strange. The two men obviously know each other, but as I glance again to see if I imagined Darcy’s expression, I merely catch sight of the back of his coat as he swings round abruptly and leaves the restaurant. Emma looks surprised, but Nick says something briefly to her and follows Darcy out the door. How odd.
I’m about to ask Daniel what’s going on, but he’s already started talking of something else. Before I can change the subject, Emma rings a little bell. ‘Sorry to intrude into your lovely evening. Please can I have your attention? If you look under your plate, you will find the name of the next person you will be dating for the following course. Please can I ask you to change now as the chef is ready to serve the mains?’
It’s typical, I’m having such a lovely evening and would much rather stay where I am with Daniel. The idea in itself is a good one, swapping round if you have a hideous partner but there should be a get-out clause if you really like the one you’re with. I hope I’ll be able to meet him again soon for a proper date. That is, if he likes me. I look up at him shyly as we rise from our chairs.
‘What a shame, but I’m sure we’ll catch up again very soon. I feel I still have a long way to go to prove to you that bankers aren’t all boring bastards,’ he quips with that gorgeous smile. My heart does a big flip-flop all by itself. I know they say bizarre things about their feelings like this in romantic novels, but it really did.
I pick up my plate, feeling for the piece of flowery paper underneath and this time my heart sinks. You will never guess whose name is written on it. Actually, you probably will. It’s none other than Sir Henry Greaves. This man seems to be my fate as the worst dinner partner ever… perhaps in close competition with Rob Bright. More diverting still is the fact that Daniel has approached Sir Henry’s table and is introducing himself to the cantankerous battleaxe seated opposite him. I have a real job not to laugh, the thought of Daniel matched with Miss High and Mighty is hilarious.
There is no time to sit and snigger, however, as Sir Henry Greaves trundles up to my table. ‘Are you Miss Sophie Johnston?’
‘Erm, yes I am.’ I don’t bother correcting the Johnston to Johnson.
‘Speak up, girl, can’t stand muttering!’
Yep, this was going about as well as I expected, except looking on the bright side, he doesn’t seem to have recognised me from the awards evening, which is a great relief. Then again, I guess I haven’t had my make-up or hair done professionally, so I probably look a little more like my usual self.
Sir Henry is everything and more as a dinner partner than I had already imagined. He’s one of those people who is all about who you know, not what you know. He’s the worst name-dropper I’ve ever met. It is, ‘Of course, I was having drinks with Angela Rippon,’ and, ‘John Major was at the club that day, we were at Harrow together, you know.’
Sir Henry enjoys reading Burke’s Peerage for pleasure and is astonished to discover that I don’t have a copy. He is totally incredulous, ‘Doesn’t every young lady have a copy of Burke’s Peerage? I thought you said you had a degree.’
‘Well, yes,’ I reply awkwardly, pretending to be very interested in my risotto.
‘Wasn’t one of these bloody new-fangled polytechnics, was it?’ he blusters.
‘No, it was Oxford actually.’ I can’t resist.
‘Oh, they take women now, do they? Can’t say I agree with it myself. What on earth a girl wants with an education, I don’t know. A pretty face and a pleasant biddable disposition, that’s all you need, m’dear.’ He pauses a second to continue noisily chomping on his steak. ‘Make a good wife and preferably come from a decent family. Are you related to the Stevenson Johnstons?’
‘Erm, I’ve no idea.’ I am so incensed by the last tirade, I’m having a job not to drink the whole bottle of wine in the nearby cooler, just to get me through the next half hour. Ironically, so far The Jane Austen Dating Agency seems to be full of misogynist men with opinions stuck in the Regency era, apart from Daniel of course. I wonder how he’s getting on with the old battleaxe.
‘Who’s the lady you were dining with for the first course?’ I ask, hoping to at least introduce a new topic of conversation.
‘Eh? Oh that was Lady Constance Parker. Related to the Parker Sainsburys she would have me believe, but I will need to check my Burke’s when I get home. Can’t be too careful, you know, people will tell you anything. I have a feeling she is one of the more recent Parkers, though still a good family and well known. Lost her husband many years ago and lives on her own with her daughter at Radnall Park. Used to the best of everything, definitely one to watch, I think.’
He seems to suddenly recollect himself as he utters these last words, ‘Yes well, that is… ahem… probably difficult to live with, but I spend most of my time at the club in any case and circumstances have forced me lately to consider my situation. It’s a disgrace! Three daughters, only one married. In fact, one of ’ems over there, Maria. It was her idea I should come to this agency, had some damn silly romantic notion I should marry again and find love. Not that she’s one to speak, thirty-five and still not hitched, I ask you!’
I follow Sir Henry’s gaze until it falls on the rather graceful girl, Maria, who I noticed looking so unhappy earlier. Surprisingly she appears rather more cheerful than before, in spite of the fact she is seated with Rob Bright. The woman needs a medal; no-one is happy sitting with Rob, and I thought the Navy guy wasn’t bad looking for an older man. I wonder where he is, then I spot him with Louisa, her vibrant auburn hair glinting under the lights. He is a very different man, talking and laughing with ease. Upon glancing back at Maria, I notice her gazing rather sadly at him, then she returns to listening to Rob’s all-too-ready flow of conversation.
Thank goodness we all seem to have finished our main course and I look forward to escaping the dubious pleasure of Sir Henry Greaves’s company. I guess at least we’ve made some progress, he has actually spoken to me this time. He seems quite interested in Lady Constance, by the sound of it to solve his financial issues, but from my reckoning they are a good match.
Sir Henry must be in his sixties, he is quite a good-looking man, rather vain I should think. I noticed throughout dinner he glanced across at the mirrors on a regular basis to check or it seemed rather to admire his cravat and to ensure his hair is neat. Lady Constance, from all appearances, is just as difficult and snobbish about her choices. Yes, I think they would suit very well.
I am startled out of my imaginary matchmaking by Emma ringing the bell once more. ‘All change round please. If everyone would like to look under their place card, they will discover their next exciting partner for the dessert course.’