think they’re Al Pacino in Scent Of A Woman, so I hit Henry in the arm and he starts twirling me. The pretend boyfriend: every single girl’s must-have. The two of us acting like dickheads isn’t going to help Henry’s case with the opposite sex either, but he seems to be having a good time.
Eventually the DJ starts playing Europop, so leaving Henry doing the Running Man, I head to the bar to look for Plum.
‘So, as I was saying earlier, we should go out,’ says Rich, sidling up next to me immediately. ‘Don’t make me ask again.’
‘You’re leaving for Hong Kong!’ I say, stalling for time. Do I really want to go out with Henry’s brother? And I don’t think I should make a date on the same night that Adam The Tick Boxer rejected me and almost made me cry, do you? Though between me and you, I don’t feel upset about him anymore . . .
‘Not for a few more days,’ Rich says.
I pause. ‘OK, I’d love to.’ Batter up.
‘Great,’ he says. ‘Give me your number.’
As I give him my number, I look up and see posh Toby from the courtyard. He’s looking over at us – me, sipping my drink; Rich tapping my number into his phone – and grins knowingly. I narrow my eyes and scowl at him. He pretends to be hurt.
Flirting without words. Wow, I can’t wait to tell Robert about this.
Henry comes up. ‘Where the bloody hell are all the girls?’
‘Everywhere, Henry,’ I reply. ‘Everywhere. Remember what Robert said? Right, I’m going to the bar, boys.’
When I get back with our drinks, Henry is still talking about not being able to meet girls.
‘Abigay’s flatmate Robert – total legend, by the way – gave me a few tips. But I just don’t know if I can be that guy.’
‘You can be that guy,’ says Rich solemnly. ‘I believe in you.’
‘You’re a very handsome man,’ I say, feeling like Henry’s mother. ‘Just channel confidence.’
‘There are two girls over there,’ says Rich. ‘Go on—’
‘What if they tell me to fuck off? I—’ Henry pauses.
‘If they do, then just assume they’re talking about something traumatic,’ I say. ‘Girls sometimes have private conversations. It’s not personal.’
‘OK,’ he says. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and walks over. I look over at Rich again and we both start laughing.
‘Ah, the pull,’ he says, grinning. ‘You seem awfully knowledgeable for someone so newly single, by the way.’
‘Shit! Plum!’ I say. ‘I have to do a recon. Back in a mo.’
She’s not on the dance floor, the other seating area, or the smoking courtyard, so I make a bathroom pit stop. As I wash my hands and make awkward chitchat to the bored woman they don’t pay to stand in the tiny bathroom and hand out free paper towels, Plum bursts in happily.
‘I’ve been looking for you!’ She pretends to faint against the wall. ‘He is so fucking dreamy.’
The toilet attendant woman tsks, and taps a door, indicating Plum should go in and stop wasting her time. She looks over at her perfectly arranged perfumes and hairsprays, and sighs with boredom.
‘Sorry,’ we chorus. She nods without making eye contact. Why is it people who work for nightclubs act like your existence annoys them?
‘Wait for me, sugarnuts, I’m bursting,’ says Plum.
I look over the array of seriously minging perfumes on offer. Who wears Paris Hilton’s Heiress? And why offer Chupa Chups? What are we, five years old?
A heavily fake-tanned girl with serious hair extensions and spray-on jeans comes out of a stall, washes her hands, glosses her lips, tips the attendant and takes a Chupa Chup. She unwraps it and carefully places it between her glossed lips, then twirls it with careful practice.
Ah. I understand now. Sucking a Chupa Chup equals pouty, fellatio-y lips. Some girls must be pre-programmed to ooze that kind of sexiness. I don’t think I’m one of them.
‘Right. Tell me everything,’ I say, as soon as Plum comes back out.
She beams delightedly. ‘We’re going out on Thursday.’
‘Smashing!’ I say. Please, let this work out, I think to myself.
She smiles to herself. ‘Now, listen. I have to leave now, Abigail, because otherwise I’ll probably get drunk and make a fool of myself and go home with him.’
I’m done with tonight, too. I only came back to support Plum. Getting asked out by Rich, rather than the high point of the night as it would have been a few weeks ago, is just a nice bonus. The high point of my night, in fact, was probably Henry’s mimed skipping.
We head inside to say goodbye to Henry and Rich.
‘Abigail,’ says a voice behind me. I turn around. It’s Toby. ‘I realise you’re highly in demand tonight,’ he starts. I grin. ‘But I’m going to a restaurant launch party on Wednesday, and seeing as you make friends with the door people so easily, I thought you might like to come with me.’
I don’t reply. Is it bad to make two dates in one night?
‘She doesn’t eat carbs on Wednesdays,’ says Plum coquettishly.
‘I promise to personally check every mouthful she eats,’ he says. ‘I can even pre-masticate, if you like. Like a Mummy bird.’
‘Well, everyone loves a man who’s into mastication,’ I say, I can’t think of a reason to say no, other than that it feels a bit naughty when I just gave Rich my number. But we had that little frisson outside. And he’s so good-looking . . . Before I can decide yes or no, Toby takes out his phone, and I give him my number. Batter up indeed.
‘We’re heading off now, so have a good night . . .’ I say.
‘You, too,’ he says, leaning forward to kiss me goodbye on both cheeks. ‘May I arrange a car for you?’
‘No, uh, I’m good,’ I say, grinning awkwardly as we walk away. ‘Thanks, though.’
‘He’s gorgeous,’ hisses Plum, as we walk away. ‘Funny, charming, tall . . .’
I wrinkle my nose. ‘He’s a bit smooth.’ Plum looks at me in shock, and I start laughing. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’
The next day, at the end of a lazy morning on the balcony reading Cold Comfort Farm, drinking coffee and eating crumpets with peanut butter, I decide enough is enough. I need company and he needs food.
‘Knock knock!’ I say at Robert’s door, and immediately curse
