The Ex-Boyfriend's Handbook Part 18

'Jesus. What were you wearing before?'

I can feel myself start to blush. 'I wanted to look like I'm not trying too hard.'

'You've succeeded.' Dan laughs. 'In fact you look like you're not trying at all. Let me remind you-we're going out to meet women. You're dressed like a scarecrow. And what do scarecrows do?'

Unfortunately, I know the answer to this one. 'Frighten the birds away?'

'Exactly.'

Dan disappears into his bedroom, rooting through his wardrobe until he finds something suitable.

'Here,' he says, beckoning me over. 'Your jeans look just about faded enough to be trendy, but that jumper looks like it was knitted by your mother. Put this s.h.i.+rt on. And don't tuck it in.'

I stand there for a moment, staring at Dan, until he rolls his eyes and turns his back. Self-consciously, I slip off my jumper and try the s.h.i.+rt on. Luckily, Dan's much wider in the shoulder than I am in the waist, so it doesn't fit too badly.

'Much better,' says Dan, looking me up and down. 'But something's missing...'

He looks through his wardrobe again before closing the door in disgust, then slips off his own jacket and holds it out to me. 'Here. Try this on. But don't try and fasten it-with that gut, I fear for the tensile strength of those b.u.t.tons.'

I put the jacket on and examine my reflection in the mirror. It looks pretty good, I have to concede. 'Cheers, mate.'

'And if you do see any nice women tonight, try not to get too excited. I don't want your drool down the front of my s.h.i.+rt.'

'Cool jacket, Dan. How will they ever resist me?' I say, strutting up and down in front of the mirror.

Dan shakes his head. 'Edward, it's a nice jacket. Not a magic jacket.'

I ignore his insult and tap my watch. 'Can we go now?'

'Hold on,' he says. 'Final touch required.'

Dan leads me through into his chrome-and-marble en-suite, where he opens the rather large bathroom cabinet. It's stocked almost to overflowing with moisturizers, exfoliators, and bottle after bottle of aftershave.

'What do you fancy?' he asks.

I look at the selection of brightly coloured bottles. Worryingly, Dan seems to have arranged them alphabetically.

'What have you got?'

'What haven't I got?'

I read through the names. '"Contradiction", "Envy", "Eternity", "Escape", "Intuition", "Obsession"...What do you recommend?'

'Why not try "Desperation"?' he suggests. 'Oh, hang on, you smell of that already.'

After careful consideration, Dan hands me a bottle with some unp.r.o.nounceable name, and supervises me as I splash some onto my face.

'Not too much now,' he cautions. 'We've got to get you through the streets safely.'

7.15 p.m.

We've stopped off at the Admiral Jim, so I can partake of some Dutch courage beforehand. As a special treat, Dan's allowed me a beer, and I drink it slowly, savouring every mouthful.

'So,' he says, rubbing his hands together expectantly. 'What's the deal again?'

I pull out the flyer Wendy gave me from my pocket and read it out to him. '"Brighton's women are out on the hunt for men-could you be one of them?'"

'I know I'm not "one of them,'" says Dan. 'Are you sure you've got the right kind of event?'

I nod. 'All we have to do is turn up, and we'll get to meet twenty-odd women-that's twenty, plus or minus, rather than strange, I mean.'

Dan shakes his head in disbelief. 'And all of them gagging for it?'

'Well, "looking for love",' I say, reading from the back of the leaflet.

'Same thing,' laughs Dan. 'And I don't even have to buy them a drink?'

'Nope. In fact, we get a free gla.s.s of wine. And then get to spend three minutes with each girl.'

'Result!'

'Be serious, Dan. It's the best chance I've got to actually go and talk to a number of women face to face. Don't mess it up for me.'

'As if,' he says.

'So listen,' I ask, as I sip my half pint anxiously, 'once I'm sat in front of all these girls, what on earth do I say to them?'

Dan leans forward on his stool and lowers his voice. 'It's easy,' he says. 'The key to success with women is sincerity.'

'Sincerity?'

Dan nods. 'Yup. If you can fake that, you're sorted. So even though they may not deserve one, start with a compliment. Tell them you like their hair, or that they're pretty, or even that they look a bit like someone famous.'

'Someone famous?'

'Yup. But, obviously, someone good-looking and famous. Ask what they do, have they been to one of these things before, that sort of thing. Keep it all nonchalant, and the time will fly by.'

'But what if I run out of things to ask?'

'Don't worry,' says Dan, 'just get them started. They're women, don't forget, so they'll be quite happy to do all the talking.'

'Right.'

'But,' he adds, 'if the conversation does dry up for any reason, talk about anything that comes into your head. Something you're interested in, for example.'

'Such as...films?'

Dan nods. 'Films will do. But ask them about themselves. What they like, not what you like.'

'Got it.'

'And remember, it's not what you say, but how you say it.'

'But I thought you just said they'd do all the talking?'

'Okay. Then remember, it's not what you don't say, but how you don't say it.'

'Huh?'

Just then, Wendy walks over to our table, wearing a rather tight T-s.h.i.+rt.

'Blimey,' says Dan. 'Is it cold in here, or are you trying to smuggle a couple of peanuts out from behind the bar?'

Wendy ignores him, and turns to face me. 'So, tonight's the night?' she asks, looking me up and down appreciatively. 'Out on the pull?'

'Just for research purposes, you understand,' I stammer awkwardly.

'I'm just teasing you, Edward. You'll enjoy yourself.'

'And you've been to this particular one before, right?'

Wendy laughs. 'We go quite a lot, me and the girls. It's a fun night out.'

'Ever, you know, met anyone?'

'It's only saddos who go to this kind of thing,' interrupts Dan. 'No offence, Edward.'

'None taken.' I turn back to Wendy. 'But seriously, what do you mean by a fun night out? Don't you go there to, er, meet boys and stuff?'

Wendy smiles and shakes her head. 'Maybe the first time. But then you realize that most of the guys who are there are there for one reason and one reason only.'

'Which is?'

'Because they can't get a girlfriend any other way,' says Dan.

I look to Wendy to contradict him. Sadly, she doesn't.

'Well, at least the women there tonight will get a good indication of what Dan's like in bed,' she says, mischievously.

Dan frowns. 'What do you mean by that?'

'Three minutes and you're done,' she says, before scampering back behind the bar.

'Which reminds me,' says Dan. 'Have you brought any protection?'

'Why? In case one of them attacks me?'

'No-"protection",' he says, tapping his wallet, 'Just in case you get lucky.'

'Dan, my idea of getting lucky this evening is if I get any clues as to how to get Jane back. And besides, why would I want to sleep with any of them?'

'Why wouldn't you?'

'Because of Jane, dummy. I don't want to cheat on her.'

'But now's your big chance. While she's away.'

'Dan, you don't get it, do you? I'm not looking for a "chance". Big or otherwise.'

Dan looks at me in disbelief. 'I'm still amazed that in the ten years the two of you have been together, you've never been unfaithful.'

'Nope.'

'You've never slept with another woman?'

'Never.'

'You're sure?'

'I think I'd remember.'

'Not even a prost.i.tute?' He lowers his voice an octave or two, 'A "lady of the night"?'

'No.'

'Come on, you can tell your Uncle Dan...'

'No! And the thought of you as an uncle is pretty creepy, I can tell you.'

'Well, you must have thought about it?'

'No. Why would I have?'

Dan looks at me with an expression that conveys 'Why wouldn't you have?'

'Not even an illicit snog with Natasha at the office Christmas party?'

'G.o.d no. There's a woman that you could kiss and when you stop you find that she's stolen your tonsils.'

'Well, you can't expect me to believe that in the ten years-I'm sorry mate, I just have to keep repeating that to make sure it's true-that you've been together you've never even looked at another woman.'

'Of course not. I mean I've looked, of course, but I've never wanted to do anything about it.'

Dan looks at me incredulously. 'So what happens when you're out on the street, or in the supermarket, and you see an absolutely drop-dead gorgeous woman?'

'Am I out with Jane at the time or not with Jane?'

'With Jane.'