Who Needs Men Anyway?. Victoria Cooke

turned my attention to Megan. ‘Do you think you’d want to meet someone else? In time, I mean.’ I’d assumed she’d want to but hadn’t considered the possibility that Mike had put her off men for good.

      ‘I don’t know. I’m still processing what’s happened so it’s hard to think about it at the moment. I’d like to think I’ll meet someone who treats me right. I always liked the idea of being married.’

      Kate snorted. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      I shot her a glance.

      ‘Oh come on. Who likes being married?’

      ‘James is a wonderful man,’ I said. I was surprised by what she’d asked.

      ‘That doesn’t answer the question.’

      ‘Of course I like being married,’ I said for clarity.

      ‘And I didn’t get the chance, but I wanted to.’ Megan shrugged.

      ‘Are you saying you’re unhappy with Carl?’ I asked, feeling we were getting to the bottom of her issue.

      ‘I’m just saying, things can fizzle out a little.’ She drained her glass. ‘I’m going to the bar.’ She stalked off.

      ‘Well, that was odd,’ I said to Megan.

      ‘All marriages have those phases, I imagine,’ Megan said. Mine hadn’t, but I kept that to myself.

      ‘I suppose. So, doesn’t anyone in here take your fancy?’ I asked, changing the subject.

      She cast her eye around the room at the many carbon copies of intrusive-dancer-bloke from earlier. ‘Hmm, not really. I suppose I’m awaiting my very own Tom Hardy.’

      ‘Tom Hardy? Really?’ I giggled. I think it was the wine as girly chat was never my forte.

      ‘Well, who would you be holding out for? If there was no James.’

      It had been a long time since someone had caught my eye. I thought for a moment, flicking through a mental database of stereotypically handsome gentlemen who would seem acceptable: Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, and so on. I could only think of James – nobody else came close. ‘Paul Newman,’ I blurted out eventually before adding, ‘in his time.’

      Megan pulled a face to say it was an acceptable answer just as Kate returned with three mojitos.

      ‘Sorry that took a while – the barman had all the gusto of a sedated sloth! Anyway, what was that about Paul Newman?’ she asked, handing out the drinks. Apparently she’d cooled off.

      ‘He’s Charlotte’s dream bloke,’ Megan answered on my behalf. Kate scrunched her nose.

      ‘Well, who would you pick then?’ I asked.

      ‘Well George C, obviously. Though there’s something about Jack Nicholson,’ she mused.

      ‘I get that,’ I said.

      ‘I’d go with Leonardo DiCaprio,’ Megan said. ‘He’s basically a younger version.’ She giggled.

      ‘Oh, dear girl, you’ll realise one day. The mature ones are the best ones,’ Kate said.

      ‘I’ve literally no idea what she’s on about,’ I whispered to Megan. I really didn’t – Carl was two years her junior. Her ex-husband, however, was a much older man.

      ‘Carl doesn’t notice me any more,’ Kate said suddenly.

      ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, opting for a more sympathetic tone this time.

      ‘I don’t know. His face used to light up when he came in from work and he’d wrap me up in those big burly arms and kiss me like it had been an eternity since we’d last embraced . . .’ She smiled, wrapping her arms around herself.

      ‘You’ve read too many romance books! And those things don’t last for ever, Kate. Life happens and we have to get on with that too. Is this what your downer on marriage and younger men has been about?’ She could be so petulant at times.

      ‘Maybe. I don’t know. Carl just comes in from work, asks about dinner, then slobs out in front of the television. Henry used to twirl me around and whisk me off at the drop of a hat; he made me feel like I was a princess.’

      ‘You and a string of other women,’ I countered. ‘Something has to be said about fidelity.’

      ‘I know.’ She shrugged. ‘I just wish Carl was more like James – he’s so attentive.’

      ‘James isn’t very attentive at the moment, though, is he? Work has possessed him,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should take a little of your own advice and get some saucy undies to spice things up a bit.’ I sipped my mojito to avoid looking smug.

      ‘All my undies are saucy!’ Kate retorted, causing Megan to splutter into her own mojito.

      ***

      The next morning, I awoke alone in bed feeling dehydrated and tired, both of which reminded me why I usually drank in moderation. Binge-drinking was so late Nineties it should be considered a retro activity, or shelved under ‘never again’. A glass of water sat on the bedside table; James must have fetched it for me before he went downstairs – he really is attentive. I drank the whole glass and checked the time. It was just approaching 10 a.m.

      The smell of sweet pastry roused me, and I trudged downstairs, snuggled up in my UGG dressing gown – the perfect attire for a chilly spring morning. James was in the kitchen, baking. ‘Mmm, those smell good,’ I said as I walked up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He picked his phone up off the counter and stuffed it into his pocket before turning to face me. At least he could push work aside for me sometimes.

      ‘I thought you might be in need of something stodgy after your night out.’ He kissed me on the forehead.

      ‘I don’t know why I do it. I blame Kate.’ I took a delicious bite of a hot pain au chocolat. ‘These are almost as good as mine!’

      ‘Careful, my baking is already a rarity.’

      ‘True.’ It seemed a while since we’d spoken like this, like we used to, so I thought I’d jump on the opportunity to suggest doing something nice together. ‘How about a walk today? We could go to that woodland path we’ve talked about.’

      ‘I’m sorry, darling. I’m still swallowed up by this case. It won’t be for much longer now.’

      I drew a deep breath to remind myself to keep calm. His work paid for our wonderful lifestyle after all, and the case would soon be over. Instead of giving a reply, I simply smiled and went to sit and eat in the orangery. Looking out over the garden always gave me a sense of calm.

      After breakfast, I loaded up my laptop. Talking to Megan the night before had given me an idea. She’d mentioned wanting to meet someone when the time was right and I thought I could help that along a little by setting her up with an online dating profile. That way, when she was ready, I’d already have some options lined up.

      I scoured her Facebook page for a suitable photograph. There was dressed-up ball-ready Megan, sporty workwear Megan, Halloween Megan, old baby pic Megan . . . All that was missing was ginger Megan and we’d have had the full Spice Girls set. I opted for the ball picture then at the last minute changed it for the one of her in sportswear. It was a nice Sweaty Betty yoga set that I’d bought her for Christmas the previous year. She had a minimal amount of make-up on as usual and looked gorgeous, and her hair was tied back neatly. It suggested effortless beauty.

      The ‘Me & You’ website was very easy to use, and once Megan’s picture was loaded in, there were just some tick boxes and a few paragraphs to write. Her interests were pretty similar to mine on a general level so I ticked everything I would have.

      ✓ Sports

      ✓ Socialising

      ✓ Bars

      ✓