The Ex-Boyfriend's Handbook Part 14

I think about heaving myself onto a bar stool but decide that it's probably less uncomfortable to stand.

'Look at the state of you,' Dan says, noticing my pained expression. 'Heavy night?'

'Heavy morning, actually.'

Dan raises one eyebrow. 'Oh yes?'

I don't dare shake my head. 'It was my new trainer.'

He looks down at my feet. 'What's wrong with it?'

'No. My new personal trainer.'

Dan rolls his eyes. 'Jesus. I leave you to do something on your own and you go and pick the wrong one.'

'But...'

'Some sergeant-major type yelling at you to drop and give him twenty, I bet. No wonder you're in such a state. These people usually just want to show off how fit they are, which means you injure yourself attempting to keep up.'

'Yes, well, Sam's not like that. She's actually very...'

Dan's jaw drops. 'A girl? A girl did this to you?'

'No. Well, yes.'

'Ha! Now I've heard everything.' He puts on a stupid sing-song voice. 'Edward's trainer's a girl.'

'Dan, can we just drop it, please. You're the one who suggested I needed to start exercising.'

'Yeah, but...A girl!'

'Dan!'

Dan holds his hands up. 'Fine. Drink?'

I gaze longingly at the bottles of beer in the fridge behind the bar. 'Mineral water please. Sparkling.'

Dan waves Wendy over. 'Another gla.s.s of wine please, Wenders. And a mineral water for my fragile friend here.'

'Sparkling,' I add.

'Ooh,' says Wendy, 'sparkling! Are you celebrating something?'

Dan smirks. 'Edward's got himself a personal trainer.'

'Good for you, Edward,' she says, pouring me a gla.s.s of Perrier and placing it on the bar in front of me. Given how sore my arms are, I'm reluctant to pick it up, and seriously consider asking Wendy for a straw to minimize the need for physical movement.

'Okay,' says Dan. 'Joking aside. That's phase one. Exercise. Now, onto phase two, and my particular area of expertise: women.'

'Women?'

'Yes. You need to meet more.'

'How on earth will that help me?'

Dan sighs. 'What's the best and fastest way to learn a new language, do you think?'

'Er...one of those tapes?'

'No, you idiot. If you want to learn French, move to France. You'll be speaking it in no time.'

'So...I should move into a house full of girls?'

Dan savours the idea for a moment. 'In an ideal world, that would be an option. However, you just need to speak to more women. Immerse yourself in their worlds. Familiarize yourself with their routines. Maybe even sleep with a couple of them.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

Dan makes a face. 'You're never going to get a new girlfriend if you think like that.'

'I don't want a new girlfriend. I want my old one back.'

'Which is why you've got to start engaging with other women. Learn how they tick. Try a little harmless flirting. That way you'll be better prepared for Jane's return.'

Strangely, for an idea that's come out of Dan's mouth, this actually seems to make sense. 'Okay. Point taken.'

'So. How many women do you encounter on a regular basis?'

I stare thirstily at my gla.s.s of water, which is gradually going flat on the bar in front of me. 'Well, there's Wendy. And Mrs Barraclough. And Natasha, of course.'

'Well, for a start, Wendy doesn't count.'

'Why not?' says Wendy suspiciously, expecting some insult to come flying her way.

'Because she's too involved in this process. And Mrs B is about, what, a hundred? Mind you, she's probably had s.e.x more recently than you.'

'Dan, please! What about Natasha?'

'Hmm. From what you've told me about her, she makes me look like a monk. So I'm afraid you need to go out and meet some new ones.'

'Do I really have to?'

Dan sighs. 'Yes. Because looking at the situation with you and Jane, you've obviously lost the ability to relate to them.'

'Rubbish. I speak to women all the time at work.'

'Really?' Dan thinks for a moment. 'So what do you do when you're interviewing a candidate and they're attractive?'

'Dan, I work in the IT industry. I don't get attractive candidates.'

'Sandra Bullock was good-looking in that film about computers.'

'Let me explain something to you. That's because she's what's known as an "actress". She's not a real computer person.'

'Surely there must be some attractive ones?'

'Dan, picture a girl who, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, has decided that she's more interested in computers than boys or going out, so then dedicates three years of her life to studying the things so she can spend the rest of her life staring at a screen and typing nonsense into the keyboard.'

'You mean they're all geeks?' says Wendy, before heading off to collect some gla.s.ses.

'No. Not exactly.'

'There must be the odd geek G.o.ddess?' says Dan, smiling at his own joke.

'Dan, in-' I look at my watch, and I don't know why; it must be automatic-'nearly ten years of working for an IT recruitment consultancy, I can probably think of half a dozen women who you'd charitably describe as good-looking.'

'Okay,' says Dan, still not convinced. 'So what did you do when you interviewed them?'

'I asked them some work-related questions, they answered, I wrote their answers down.'

'And none of them ever tried it on with you to get the job?'

'Dan, you don't get it, do you? I don't decide who gets the jobs we head-hunt for. I interview candidates, decide on their suitability, and then recommend to the client whether they see them or not. If they like them, and then take them on, we get paid. If not, we have to try and find someone else. So sleeping with me would be like'-I think of an example-'you sleeping with the tea girl on Richard and Judy to try and get a presenter's job.'

Dan blushes. 'We all learn by our mistakes. She was attractive though. And made a great cuppa.'

I finally pluck up the courage to pick up my gla.s.s. 'Anyway, what's your point?'

'Well, fundamentally you spend most of your working week stuck in an office, right? So the only real contact you get with women is on the telephone, and on the odd occasion you do actually meet a woman in the flesh, from what you say, chances are she's not that attractive.'

'Not that that means anything.'

Dan makes the 'yeah, right' face. 'Of course not.'

'So your conclusion is?'

'My conclusion is, firstly, that whenever you meet a woman professionally, you need to start probing them. Getting a bit more personal. Trying to find out a bit more about how they work, rather than where they work.'

'Fine. And secondly?'

'Secondly, that you need to get out more. Much more. And where's the best place to go to meet girls?'

'Er...'

Dan smiles, as if he's letting me into a trade secret. 'Hen nights.'

'Hen nights?'

Dan nods. 'We live in Brighton. The hen-night capital of the western world. Go out on any Sat.u.r.day night around here and the pubs and clubs are full of them.'

'And how does that help me, exactly?'

'Because where there's a bride-to-be?'

I sip my water gingerly. 'Are you really expecting me to get any of these questions right?'

'Try.'

'There's a fiance?'

Dan leers back at me. 'Nope. Bridesmaids.'

'Dan, I haven't been to a nightclub since, I don't know, college? And besides, at the moment, I can hardly walk, let alone dance.'

'We won't be doing any dancing, dummy.'

'But isn't that what you do at a club? Dance?'

'Oh no,' says Dan, ominously. 'Wait and see.'

11.30 p.m.

'I don't know why I let you talk me into coming.'

Dan puts an arm around my shoulders. 'Think of it as an experiment. Why do you think women and men go out to nightclubs?'

I shrug him off painfully. 'Like I said earlier. To dance?'

'To pull, stupid. So all you're doing is putting yourself in a situation where there are lots of women out to meet guys. And you're a guy...'

'But, there'll be lots of other men there.'

'Yes, but as the saying goes, worry about the customer, not the compet.i.tion. What's your biggest strength?'

'I'm a good listener.'

'Exactly. And women love a good listener. You'll be fine. You just need to loosen up a little.'

'That's a little hard when I'm so stiff from this b.l.o.o.d.y training.'

'Relax. You never know-you may just enjoy yourself. We might even turn it into an all-nighter.'

'Dan, as far as I'm concerned, at my age an all-nighter means not having to wake up at three a.m. to go to the toilet.'

Dan looks at me in disgust. 'I sometimes wonder how Jane could have torn herself away from the whirlwind of excitement that was your relations.h.i.+p. Now shut up and follow me.'

We head down West Street and past a long queue of people, who give us evil looks as we pa.s.s. Dan walks straight to the front of the line and nods to the bouncers on the door, who give him that strange secret handshake thingy and show him in. As I try to follow, still limping a little from yesterday's exercise, one of them puts a hand the size of a shovel on my chest.

'Where do you think you're going, sonny?'