Chapter Twenty Four - Does One Date Break My Promise?

It was strange for Ade. His mobile relentlessly bleeped and buzzed with new text messages – and yet it was starting to bore him. His www.myspace.com mail box was loaded with messages from women, accompanied by their pouty photos and cheeky online names. He was confused by his sudden shift in opinion. Whereas once all the female attention was an ego boost and fodder for Ade Gets Laid, it now seemed fake and a little sad and lonely. It was fun, striking up a conversation with a photograph and watching a personality unravel, but always led to sexy banter and innuendo which then culminated in either a quick impersonable lay, or fizzled out as each of them moved on to yet another mugshot. He felt uncomfortable with the Sophie situation. There was something about her that set her aside from his usual Ade Gets Laid women. She had a little something extra about her and he liked it. She didn’t only look great, but he liked her attitude. He’d been reading the Relationship Rehab column and it had made him feel slightly guilty about his dating etiquette, he liked her style. He was jerked back to reality by Trevor, slapping him on the shoulder as he passed his desk.

“Hey mate? You dozing off there?”

“No,” Ade faked a laugh, pondering whether to say something or not. He went ahead, “Actually mate, I need to say something to you.”

“Fire!” Trevor’s cheeks were plumped out as his mouth was stuffed with a Subway Cheese & Pickle roll. Ade noticed fragments of bread spray onto a pile of papers.

“It’s this Sophie Regan thing. I think you’re out of order mate, to be honest.”

“You do?” Trevor continued to talk with his mouth overspilling, “Why?”

“Well, it’s not your patch, is it? The Ade Gets Laid thing? You know that’s why I was targeting her. So why have you stepped in on this one, and none of the others? How are you suddenly so interested?”

Trevor laughed, swallowed his food and took another huge bite before replying, “You’ve fucked up, mate. Big time. The thing is; I’ve been honest with her. Which is more than you have, dude. I mean, she knows I work for Geezer. What did you say? Some Accountancy or Financing magazine?” He laughed, throwing his head back as he gorged on the last of the crusty roll. “What a load of shit, Ade. She’ll never go for you now.”

“OK, but what’s your interest then, mate?”

Trevor looked at him for the first time since the conversation started, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He smiled,

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Ade shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

“The way this Sophie bird is going? The first guy to make her break her ridiculous I’m-gonna-be-single-for-a-year project? He’ll be one of the hottest dudes of the year? I mean,” he snorted, “what kind of sad cow chooses to stay single? I’ll change her. I converted a lesbian once, you know?”

“Fuck off, Trev.”

He grinned, “Serious! I did. She was gagging for a bit of cock after I’d shown her how to use it properly.”

Ade shook his head in disgust. With morons like Trevor Malone in the world, he could understand why decent women like Sophie chose to stay single! He pushed his chair back, needing to get away from him for a while. Trevor called after him, addressing his back,

“Hey! And I’m meeting her this afternoon too.”

Ade refused to turn around, continuing to walk away. Trev shouted,

“We’re both interviewing at the Dorchester! Bet I get her to go out with me this weekend!”

*

I’m confused. I’m trawling through these comments on my site and some of the guys have sent photographs of themselves! Talk about hot! There are some beautiful faces – men and women – on here and their comments are warm and enthusiastic. There are some derogatory and negative comments too – but that’s to be expected I suppose. From the last 50 comments that I’ve read, 22 have asked to take me out on a date, wanting to talk to me about my reasons for staying single and, get this, certain that they can change my mind! So how to sift the dross from the diamonds? The potential here for liars is huge! And would a date mean that I’m breaking my promise to stay single?

It’s 1pm and my cab is due in half an hour. I’m excited about interviewing Paul Ashkuri and have researched his previous movies and have been Googling him for the best part of the week. Hopefully, my research is thorough – and some of my questions will surprise him.

I’m tidying my desk, ready to shutdown my computer when I notice that Delaney has sent me an email.

RE: Singles Nights

Maria Delaney

To: Sophie Regan

Sophie – I’d like you to check out this singletons quiz night in Lambeth next week. I’ve attached the pdf file for you to get info from. It will tie in nicely with your Rel Rehab feature. Also, please check out singles holidays – availability and popularity of. Might have to get you on one of those in a few weeks time! Let me know what you think about the comments to the website too.

Good luck with the Ashkuri interview. Don’t forget to mention how Woman To Woman are at the cutting edge of contemporary woman’s issues.

___________

Maria Delaney

Editor

Woman To Woman

___________

I shutdown and lock my desk. I’ve got about 10 minutes before the cab is due and so I nip into the loos and make sure that I look good for Paul Ashkuri. As I look in the mirror and apply my lipstick I can’t help wondering about those great looking men on the site! Should I reply to them? And then I realise a whole new dilemma. Would dating a guy mean that I’ve broken my promise? Would sleeping with a guy mean that? Or is it OK to have a one night stand? Is the concept of staying single dependent on the intention not to get involved with a guy emotionally?

Now I’m really confused.

Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Five

Second Life or First Life??

Bored of your first life? Come and try a Second Life!

So far we've met in The Blarney Stone and Sappho's Garden.

Today we'll be meeting up at Artropolis at 9pm UK time (co-ordinates 69,122,25).

Find me at SophieRegan Jewell and I'll teleport you there if you're not sure! Come and have a try - it's a bit weird at first, but it's fun too! (no - honest, it is!)

Don't have Second Life - download it! It's FREE at www.secondlife.com

Here's a photo of Artropolis to get you in the mood.

Chapter Twenty Three - Blood Red Tulips

Once I’d got over the grossness of the low-down bum, I floated home. I absolutely loved it! The first thing I did on leaving the studios was ring Tamsin. I cringed when she told me that I did go boss eyed at first. Damn it! Why didn’t I click that the writing on the lens was autocue? I thought it was weird how William Montelson was saying exactly what was written on the camera! How embarrassing! But Tam said I was great. I’m gutted that I forgot to record it and now I have to go into work this morning as probably the only person there who didn’t see it. I’m feeling really good about all of this now and am so pleased that Delaney shoe-horned me into the idea of Relationship Rehab as a feature. I breeze from the street, through the tinted revolving doors and into the cool marbled reception area where Ellie sits behind her desk. She is beaming at me.

“Sophie, you were fantastic. Everybody’s talking about it. You were just a natural. A complete natural. Well done!”

“Wow, thanks! I still haven’t seen it. Did I have too much make-up on?”

“No! You looked great.”

Still smiling I turn to walk towards the lift and crash straight into a man’s chest. My teeth clunk together and I bite my lip. Great – that’s a good start to the working day – I can taste blood immediately.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!”

I bring my hand to my mouth and see the red blobs on my hand. This is awful. I look up to see Adrian. I’m devastated!

“I’m so sorry, Sophie. Here, let me help you.”

He marches over to Ellie and pulls a couple of tissues from the complimentary box that sits beside the vase of flowers. I hadn’t noticed them before….

“Look, I’m sorry. Here,” he passes me the tissues and I hold them to my lips. I look up at him with one eyebrow raised and his face melts into a knicker-quivering smile,

“Hey,” his voice is warm and soft, “I bought you these.”

He points across to the huge bouquet of crimson tulips that sit on Ellie’s reception desk.

“You did? Why?”

“Well, they were to say well done last night, but now I think they have to be as apology for nearly knocking your teeth out. I’ll buy you some more to say well done for last night!”

I’m blushing again. Even more so when he puts his arm around me lightly and asks me if I’m really OK. I shuffle towards the lift and as the doors close I see him turn to face Ellie. I catch the beginning of his sentence. I’m certain it’s something like, ‘Messed that up didn’t I?’

*

I’m stunned when I walk into the office. You can hardly see my desk for flowers! Here I am, never received flowers unless I was in hospital, and my desk is hidden beneath at least 4 bouquets. AJ has a face that could curdle milk whilst still in the cow’s udder. Delaney appears from her office, a huge smile confusing me. I’ve never seen her smile. Ever.

“You did so well, Sophie. And look at these flowers?”

“Who are they from?” I’m still mopping my cut lip with a, now red, polka dotted tissue.

“Admirers, Sophie! You went down a storm last night. Come into my office we need to talk.” She turns to AJ and says, “AJ? Get Sophie and I a couple of coffees would you, please?” I’m not sure who is more horrified – AJ, for being asked to fetch me a coffee, or me for being grouped into Delaney’s gang of Those Of Elevated Status and invited into her office for a talk. We get in there and she actually pulls a chair out for me.

“You OK? What’s with the lip?”

I draw the tissue away and check that it has stopped bleeding. I tell her it was just an accident that happened in reception. She nods, desperate to get to the exciting stuff.

“Right, Sophie,”

She’s actually calling me Sophie and not ‘Regan’! She continues, shuffling papers on her desk and then clicking her mouse which sits on her Barry White mouse mat.

“This is exploding. And you’re at the centre of it. I’ve been inundated this morning with calls from Stephanie in the Press Room. Loads of researchers want to talk to you. The Daily Mail want to speak with you, Marie Claire and even the Philadelphia Inquirer are interested in your story about staying single. It’s inspired, Sophie. And you were a complete natural on the television. But there’s something else too. The website? It’s been loaded with hits throughout the night. Be prepared for this, but you’re going to have to answer these people. Some of them are empowered by your confidence and outlook. There are some who want to ask you questions about why you’re staying single, others want to share their stories, but there are some too who want to be your ‘man’!” She says the word ‘man’ with a comical slow drawl – which somehow is lost on me. I’ve never seen her like this before – all kind of light hearted and full of, em, personality?

“Anyway, I just wanted to say well done. You’re due at the Dorchester at 2, Ashkuri’s team are expecting you – you’ll have about 5 mins max. I’ve booked a cab for you at 1.30 – should give you plenty of time. So for this morning I’d like to you have a check of the website and see whether you can start shaping it a little. Reply to some of the comments and start getting your Relationship Rehab pieces online too. Will be a great way to keep them alive.”

My head is spinning. This is ludicrous. I wrote a few pieces about staying single. I went on a chat show and talked about why I’m disillusioned. And now? I have a website?

AJ enters the room and I can feel her seething as she lowers the coffee cups onto the table. I’m so tempted to smile up at her and tell her that I’d prefer tea, but decide it’s not wise to.

She’d probably tip it over my head!

*

This website is mind-blowing. I can’t believe how many people have sent in comments. Look at this,

‘How are you doing today my lovely one? I was channel hopping last night and had to stop when I saw you. I was lucky to remember the website address and couldn’t resist dropping by and saying ‘hi’. I promise I’m not like all those other guys – please reply me back if you would like us to date. I am a single Man and a Dad.’ - Dennis, Yorkshire

‘ Hello, I the look of you and your articles are brilliant. I really trip for your pictures.... I want to know more about you. I am looking for real love.... just get back and I will tell you more about me. You won’t regret it.’ – James, Portsmouth

‘Hello - you have a beautiful face and a warm heart. Your beauty and smile have captured my imagination and my heart started falling for you the very minute I saw you on William Montelson’s sofa. You have a beauty that runs deep and is hard to find. Your eyes hold a sexiness and a passion others can only long for. As long as my heart beats, I shall seek out your soul and be fulfilled you’re your beauty. Live with me and you will not regret staying single.’ - Darryl, Wokingham

‘I could make you change your mind. Email me back and I bet I’ll have you changing your mind within days…’ - Rick, Cardiff

This is outrageous – everything bad that speed dating and Wine Not? was – only a million times worse! And it continues,

‘I’m gonna rock your world babe. What’s a stunna like you staying single for? No-one snapped you up yet? I’m your man!’ - Kevin, Bath

‘Hi Sophie, I am also trying to stay single. I have been let down by women all my life and think that you are brave and independent by making that decision. Single is all about choices and those choices are eradicated by relationships. You know that it makes sense and I praise your wisdom.’ – Maurice, Aberdeen

I’m completely overwhelmed. This is a freak show. What have I started?

Two hours later I’m still trawling through the comments and emails. The smell of flowers beside my desk is heady and I realise that I haven’t looked at any of the cards yet. I rub my eyes and lift the first card from the mini envelope. It says,

‘You were fabulous last night. Get used to these flowers – I will continue to send them until you see sense. You interviewing Paul Ashkuri later? I’ll be there to talk to Summer Lawson. Fancy a drink afterwards? Trevor, Geezer magazine’

He was the one who sent the lilies yesterday? It must be! Unless that’s a coincidence. But they were from Trevor weren’t they? And he did say that he’ll continue to send them. I must be him. Now I’m nervous about the Ashkuri interview. It almost feels as though he’s kind of stalking me.

The other cards read,

‘I want you. You are the most beautiful and passionate woman that I have ever seen. Please, be mine. G’

G? What kind of a sign off is that? I have no idea who they are from. The other bouquet is equally as baffling – it simply reads RL. The fourth bouquet is from Ben. I recognise his writing and the message is simple but sweet,

‘Sophie – thank you. Your kind heart rang true. Thank you for being a friend. I am eternally thankful to you. B.S.’

I was surprised actually, at how I dodged the questions about Ben last night. I simply smiled and said that Ben and I were still great friends and we realised a little too late that we were better off that way. I even managed to get a sympathetic giggle from the audience. But I have to admit, I was terrified about any particularly aggressive types of questions about Ben.

I am going to have to avoid the subject of Ben Scott at all costs…

Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Two - the Sky's the limit and low down bums

I am so nervous I think I’m going to be sick! I arrived at the Sky studios about 25 minutes ago and they’re already whisking me through to ‘hair and make up’. I’ve seen one of the researchers and we have run through the basic outline of the interview. It all looks harmless enough – small live audience and an 8 minute slot. It sounds like nothing – but then again – if I’m asked dodgy questions it could feel like an eternity! So here I am, reclined back like an astronaut ready for launch into space, ready to be plummeted into the unknown. The make up artist is friendly, chatting to her friend about the Lily Allen collection for New Look compared to the Kate Moss collection for Top Shop. Her conversation is peppered with instructions to me – ‘close your eyes’, and ‘open’ and ‘close again’. I blink, obediently as she sweeps and paints powders and colours across my eyes and cheeks with soft brushes. The lipstick feels thick and gloopy and I’m suddenly 8 years old again – trying on my Mum’s lipstick, afraid to let my lips touch and talking through a slitted mouth like a ventriloquist. She suddenly jerks my chair into an upright position, swiftly turning me to face the wall as she grabs the hairdryer and it roars into life. Before I know it I have 6 huge barrel brushes twisted into my hair. She works each one in turn, leaving 5 in place, whilst releasing a sixth, drying and pulling my hair tight onto the brush and then leaving that one to sit. By the time she twirls me back to face the mirror, I hardly recognise myself. My face feels caked and thick with make up and my hair is high and full of body. I think she senses my shock,

“It’s always a surprise,” she giggles, “the first time you see yourself with television make up on – but it’s for the lighting. If I didn’t put this much on you, you’d look washed out. Trust me.”

What choice do I have?

I’m scurried through to the Green Room where I sit beside an ex-Formula One driver, a celebrity hairdresser and a Guardian journalist who has written a book. We all smile at each other and I listen in as the journalist and the hairdresser discuss when they were last on the show. I feel excited and nervous, a slight surge of adrenalin and a little flutter of anticipation too. I have no real idea what they’re going to ask me, but I have to keep focussed on what I want to say. I find myself repeating, no, chanting to myself – Staying Single, disastrous dates, married men, a pledge for independence and a huge question mark over whether there are any decent men out there. And then my comic lines that I’m hoping to rely on - that there’s no coincidence that the word ‘man’ is simply an abbreviation of ‘manic’ or how many times a girl has to listen to ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ before she decides to jump the sinking ship of dating. I’m going to talk about my speed dating horrors and how the success of a chat up line lies solely in the way it is delivered.

OK – I’m ready.

I think!

*

Trevor sits at his desk trying to ignore Ade hovering around behind him. He’s already made reference to the fact that it’s nearly 7pm and suggesting that they call it a day. But Trevor wants to stay for longer –keen to get Ade out of the office so that he can plan his next move on the delectable, but highly thick, Sophie Regan. He’s planning to be at the Dorchester tomorrow to interview Summer Lawton, hoping that somebody from Woman To Woman will be there too. Anything that helps link him in with Sophie Regan will be a bonus.

“I’ll be here for a bit longer yet, Ade. You go.”

He noticed him check his watch from the corner of his eye and it was killing him not to laugh. Ade Ford was caught between the intrigue of watching Sophie on the William Montelson show and the curiosity of hanging around at work, long after everybody had left, simply to see what Trevor was planning...

*

This is crazy. I’m waiting in the wings (are they called ‘the wings’? Or is that only on the stage? God, now I’m thinking of sanitary towels with damned wings!!) and trying not to think of everybody that I know who might be watching me tonight. I’ve managed to master talking with almost normal lips and so don’t harbour as much concern now about looking like a glove puppet when I speak, but all I keep thinking about is Tamsin and Pete snuggled up on her sofa watching my every fidget and giggle. Then there’ll be Jennifer watching me, probably alone – she’d never let any of her yummy mummy friends watch me appear on television and state that I’m choosing to be single! But the ones that worry me mostly are the other people from work, and Adrian too (although maybe he doesn’t know – please God!) and also Rob! As I watch William interview Denny (the ex Formula One driver) I can see how the atmosphere is very intimate. William Montelson is very professional and has a way of making you feel as if it’s really just you and him in the room, with a few, oh maybe a couple of hundred (!) friends too. It’s going to be easy – all I need to do is ignore those 5 cameras as they zoom and rise, black and fluid, ready to pick up every movement, every sniff, cough or moment of hesitation as I struggle to find the answers!

Oh My God it was fantastic! The audience were so great and even managed to laugh at all the right places. William Montelson was an absolute legend too! He was really supportive and excited about my reasons for staying single and made a huge hype out of the horrors of dating. He made several references to his own happy family and said that he’d hate to be on the dating scene again – even flirting with me a little and promising that if he was free and single, he’d be making a bee line for a catch like me!! He said that! On television! I’m sure I went red. It was such great fun. He was horrified at my disastrous dating tales and I didn’t even notice the cameras. Well, apart from at the very beginning when I was transfixed by the one with the white writing across its lens. I was staring into it, amazed that it said exactly what William Montelson was saying – and then I realised that it was the autocue! How embarrassing. I can only hope that they didn’t choose to use that camera shot of me – bet I look boss-eyed and vacant! Cringeworthy stuff! So now I’m desperate to find out what it was like. I’m rushing back to get my back and take some of this slap off my face, when Denny, the ex-Formula One driver appears beside me.

“Hey,” he smiles at me. He’s kind of nice – sort of cute, if a little ‘lived in’ looking. “Listen, honey. All this staying single stuff. You don’t really mean it? It’s all spin, yeah?”

I frown at him, unable to grasp his reasoning. He continues, drawing in a little closer and whispering, “This could work for us both. Give it a few weeks and I’ll get you on some more of these chat shows. You’re gonna have to up the ante and give it some serious chat about not wanting a man in your life. And then I’ll appear slowly. We’ll make sure we’re photographed at all the right places – I’ll show you a good time, I’ll look after you. You’re gonna have to look coy and shocked and I’ll be very protective, as if we’re gutted that they’ve snapped us. And then we’ll make a public statement about how you’ve met the man of your dreams and how you’ve broken your promise to stay single. We’ll clean up, babe. The likes of Hello and Heat magazine will be tripping themselves up to talk to us and we’ll have it all ready for them with our story of true love and how it always wins in the end. We’ll make a bloody fortune! Look at Jordan and Peter!”

I’m stunned. I know I’m staring at him vacantly, but I can’t believe the devious nature of this guy. As if I’d throw it all in! For him! For someone that wasn’t genuine. Somebody that I didn’t even know. What a money grabbing bastard! I know he’s spent his Formula One career with his arse about 30cm from the ground, but I had no idea he really was such a low-down bum. I give him my best look of contempt and head for the make up room – I need to get this stuff off of me.

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Three

Pulling Power #7

OK - so we've had some of the chat ups - now for the wicked ones - the dumpers!!!



send your line to Pulling Power at singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Chapter Twenty One

“OK, Regan. I want to talk to you about your television appearance later on today, but there’s other things kicking off now. Firstly, I’ve organised for you to have some space on the Woman To Woman website. It’ll be up and running later this week and will be a place for you to create a sense of community around Staying Single. You can publish the column online there and readers can email you about their experiences in speed dating and meeting the right (or wrong) man.”

“Oh, OK. Sounds like fun.” I want to add – ‘as if I don’t have enough to do, I have to administer a web site as well now’, but I know it would be stupid to speak out. I’m trying to write more compelling copy for Woman To Woman and although I’m enjoying Relationship Rehab, I also want to focus on other features too.

“Secondly, I have some more good news for you. The Paul Ashkuri interview? You got it.”

I beam, “I did?”

“Be there tomorrow, 2pm at the Dorchester. He’ll be there with Summer Lawton. Sky want you there at 6pm – they’re sending a cab to collect you from your home address, so make sure you’re ready. And don’t forget to mention that Woman To Woman are at the leading edge of researching and reporting on the woman of today.”

Honestly – the woman doesn’t miss an opportunity.

*

As I wait for the taxi I realise that I look better now than I have done for months. The prospects of appearing on the television, coupled with the demands of putting my best side out at the dating events has forced me to lose a few pounds, concentrate on keeping myself groomed and plucked and preened! I’m looking hot! The bikini wax was the start of it and now I can see how women become addicted to visiting the beauty salon. I had a spray tan this afternoon on my way home from work and my confidence has rocketed. Actually, it makes me feel rather sexy…..

Oh, there’s my cab.

Deep breaths.

My first television appearance!

Chapter Twenty

Nobody notices AJ slide from her chair and head for the corridor. She pulls her mobile from her jacket pocket and dials. She speaks quietly into the phone,

“Meet me in five,” and slips the mobile into her bag as she heads for the toilets to fix her hair and reapply some make up before leaving.

Ade waits for her at one of the small tables that nobody likes to sit at. He’s bought himself a drink and as AJ sashays through the doorway she notices that he hasn’t got her one. Slightly rattled she stops at the counter and orders herself a black coffee, forcing a smile as she heads toward him.

“So?” AJ can’t help but think how delectable Ade’s mouth is, especially when topped with a milky froth moustache.

“What? Oh, yeah. She’s got flowers – and they’re not from you! I thought you were going to mess things up for her.”

She failed to notice the flash of panic as it passed across Ade’s eyes, “Flowers? Who from?”

“It doesn’t matter who from! They’re not you! You obviously have competition.”

“Was there a card? A name? I thought this might happen, what with the spread in the newspapers sparking an interest.”

“Yes, there was a card – but I don’t see what difference it will make. They were from some guy called Trevor. But the fact is Ade, that you have to make some grand gestures now. You’re gonna have to up your game! Or you won’t be the guy that made that uptight bitch make a fool of herself by falling at the feet of the first man that made a fuss of her!”

She didn’t notice the distant look in his eyes as she ranted and sniped about Sophie and her new secret admirer.

But Ade knew exactly who he was.

*

The flowers were beautiful and completely took my breath away. It was a little embarrassing, having to explain that I don’t know anybody named Trevor and I’m sure that most of them didn’t believe me. For a split second I wondered whether it was Delaney that had sent them – she had a radiance glowing from her as I sat and blushed, reading the card aloud. The tube journey home was funny – me trying not to stick the huge bouquet into passengers’ faces, women cooing at me and asking who the lucky guy was, and men looking at me with a flirty twinkle in their eye. The lilies are huge and look magnificent on my coffee table. I have combed through my contacts on my mobile twice in a bid to determine whether Trevor could be a friend of a friend, and have rang Tamsin, and my other friends Jodie, Susan and Carrie to see whether they can figure who Trevor might be. We all drew a blank. But I have to admit, I’m really excited! I have never received a bouquet of flowers like that before. It’s a great feeling to know that somebody likes you and even more exciting for them to be a stranger. I have butterflies skipping around my tum and have absolutely no desire to eat at all. I jump when my phone rings, nervously staring at it. It flashes, ‘no number’ – it might be ‘him’?

“Hello?” I put on my sweet and sultry voice only to be shaken back down to earth by my Mum’s fake accent,

“Baybee? It’s your mother! You OK?”

“Oh,” I clear my throat, “yes, course I am. How are you Mum?”

“Oh honey-bun, I have some fabulous news. About the wedding? Waylon has been laying a driveway for Tom Cruise and his wife, and he’s only invited them to the wedding! Can you imagine, baybee?? Tom and Penelope at my wedding.”

“Mum, her name’s Katie.”

The Irish accent rushed to the foreground, leaving the faux American one standing, “Fecking Katie? Katie who?”

“Mum. Tom Cruise divorced Penelope Cruz and married Katie Holmes.”

You can literally hear the penny drop in the silence. Then she bursts,

“Oh baybee, silly me. That’s what I meant to say, Kayteee. Anyway, you gotta bringa man. You gonna bringa stud?” her voice is expectant.

I hum and haw, “No, Mum. No stud. I wrack my brains for anyone worthy of that status. I know nobody. Apart from perhaps Adrian, but that’s just ludicrous.

“What about whatshisname? The telly presenter guy?”

“Ben?”

“Whatever his name was.”

“No, Mum. We split up a few months ago.”

“And what’s this Jennifer tells me about the Rehab story? Sophie, you do realise that Jen is completely right. And don’t think I didn’t hear about the photographs in the newspapers, Sophie! Honestly, if you wanted celebrity status couldn’t you have come over to L.A and date some decent guys? Not be stuck over there in London and become famous for being dumped by a legion of losers! And Jennifer is right! You’ll be seen as a woman for men to avoid now! Did you never read the books about how to get a man? Acting desperate isn’t one of them!”

“Mum,” I have to cut this off, she’s driving me bonkers, “someone at the door.”
“Oh, OK. Well Sophie, if you’re determined to stay single, make sure you keep it up until after the wedding. Waylon reckons Tom and Penelope will be asking some of their friends to come too. You never know – you might end up with one of the A-listers!”

“OK Mum.” My voice is flat. “Bye Mum.”

I exhale deeply, blowing the white lily petals and watch some more of the orange pollen fall in dusty sprinkles.

My life is a bizarre rollercoaster of being worried about what I’m going to write every week for Relationship Rehab and whether the paps will be at my front door, and then being excited about going on the chat show on Sky and wondering when I’ll bump into Adrian again.

*

The end of the week is looming like a big black cloud. I’m worrying about the television thing and wonder whether they’re going to question me about Ben. I need to write this week’s column up early, and here it is…

Relationship Rehab – week 4

Flowers from secret admirers? What is it about the male ego? Is it the same gene that renders guys the eternal optimist, convinced that they will be the ‘one’ to turn a gay woman straight? What is it about publicising a decision to stay single, that instigates flowers from strangers and invitations to appear on radio and television? Am I that unusual? I’m interested in hearing your comments. Have you ever decided to stay single? And if so, why? And I have another question. Staying Single. Think of the words. Does that actually mean that if I dated somebody then I’ve broken the promise – or would I need to sleep with them to do that? Or, take it even further, would sleeping with them still render me single? I have decided that the concept of staying single lies in my intentions. If I met a guy and dated him, or even allowed him to wine and dine and all that other stuff that follows when you go back for coffee – if I did that but had no intentions of making him a full-time boyfriend, would that mean that I was still, staying single? The problem now is this. There is a guy that I really like. And it’s typical that this had to happen now – when I’ve made this statement. So please let me know what you think? Am I making a statement only to break it? Or is that a woman’s prerogative anyway?

Look out for me on Sky at 8pm tonight – I’m on the William Montelson show and will be talking about my reasons for choosing to be single and the faux pas and foibles of dating the wrong men.

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty One