Matchmaker Cat (A Romantic Comedy Short Story) by Elizabeth Kyne (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

look when I was back in Leicester. She wore a pair of purplerimmed glasses which she kept perched on the edge of her nose andtook delight in peering over whenever she got the opportunity.

‘How's yourburger?’ said Sheila.

‘Mmm,’ I saidthrough a mouthful. It wasn't as tasty as the smell had led mystomach to believe, but it was still pretty damn good. Especiallyas Sheila had ordered one with added mushrooms, bacon and cheese. Ichased the last smear of tomato sauce around the plate with a finalcrispy chip and crunched.

‘Sunday's theonly night when I get to sit down with a proper meal,’ said Claire.She'd ordered chicken with jacket potato and was picking at it likean anorexic on a diet.

‘Doesn't thatdelightful husband of yours cook for you?’ said Gayle. She'dgobbled down all her salad and given up her pretence of caloriecounting by tucking in to a tiramisu surrounded by a lake of runnycream.

‘Stewart?’ saidClaire. ‘You've got to be kidding. If he's not sitting down infront of the telly with a beer within five minutes of getting homefrom work, he's off for a boys' curry night.’

Katy, who wassitting between Claire and me, leaned forward and looked over thetop of her glasses. ‘What about you, Rachel?’

‘Darren's agreat cook,’ I said. ‘Roast beef, duck a l'orange, tagliatellecarbonara. Every night he brings some new creation out of the oven.It's nice to come to a pub and have an ordinary burger,actually.’

‘Seriously?’said Claire.

‘I'm reallylucky,’ I said. Sheila kicked me under the table. I ignored her.‘He likes to cook. And he likes to cook for me. It would be cruelto ask him not to.’

‘Wow,’ saidGayle.

‘Sounds like anew love,’ said Katy. ‘How long have you been married?’

‘Only a coupleof months.’ I surreptitiously wrapped my empty finger in the napkinon my lap. If I was going to keep this up, I needed to buy myself aring.

‘That explainsit,’ said Gayle, dropping her dessert spoon on her plate, virtuallyscraped clean of cream. ‘It won't last, love, take it from me.’

‘Oh Gayle!’said Claire.

Katy lookedover the top of her glasses at her.

‘What? I'm justsaying it like it is.’

‘Like it wasfor you, Gaylster,’ said Claire. ‘It's not like that foreveryone.’

Sheila stoodall of a sudden. ‘My round, I think. Drink anyone?’

She took ordersfrom everyone around the table. ‘Rach, give me a hand willyou?’

We headed offtowards the bar, but as soon as we were round the corner, Sheilastopped and turned to me. ‘You didn't tell me about Darren.’

‘It's just abit of fun, Sheils.’

She looked atme sideways. She took my left hand and held it up between us. Therewas no ring on my finger; not even a tan line. ‘You're not married,are you?’

I snatched myhand back. ‘Don't you think I would have told you if I was?’

‘So what's thisall about, Rachel?’

‘I'm fed up oftelling people I'm a 40-year-old spinster who works infinance.’

‘But youare a 40-year-old spinster who works in finance.’

I glared ather. ‘That's not the point.’

Sheila wasangry at me, I could see she was. And a little disappointed.‘You're lying to my friends.’

‘It's just alaugh, Sheils. Just for tonight, I promise. Let's see how far wecan take it.’

She frowned,but something behind her eyes suggested she was considering it.

‘Less than twohours ago, you were complaining I was too straight,’ I remindedher.

She gave in.‘Okay. But next time we tell them it was a wind-up.’

‘You're on.’ Wecontinued to the bar. I pushed the boat out a little by having adash of lime cordial in my sparkling water and we carried thedrinks back to the table.

The girls weretalking about sex when we got there.

‘You should getone of those doo-dahs,’ said Claire to Gayle.

‘Dildos,’ Katycorrected.

‘With two boysin the house?’ said Gayle. ‘Not likely.’

Sheila passedthe half of cider to Gayle and the bottle of vodka orange toClaire. I handed Katy a G&T.

‘Gayle'scomplaining she's not had any since she chucked Frankenstein out,’said Claire whose skinny frame meant she was blotto already.

Gayle gave hera hard stare. ‘Can you say that a bit louder? I don't think theyheard you over the other side of town.’

‘I'm onlysayin', sometimes a girl's gotta help herself.’ Claire took a swigfrom her bottle. ‘What about you, Rachel? How's Darren in thatdepartment?’

I sat down andcradled my water and lime close to my chest. ‘Sex with Darren? Whatcan I say?’ I rolled my eyes like the very thought tingled myinsides. ‘Oh. My. God! If you know what I mean!’ I grinned and satback in the chair.

The others -even Sheila - instinctively leaned forward; anxious for more.

‘Three. Times.A night,’ I said.

‘Seriously?’said Claire.

‘He'sinsatiable!’

‘But is hegood?’ said Gayle.

‘Fireworksinside of me.’ I hid my smile behind my glass as I sipped mywater.

‘Where did youfind him?’ said Gayle.

‘They don'tmake Darrens in a factory,’ I said. ‘He's a one-off. And he's onlyinterested in pleasuring me.’

Gayle blinkedseveral times as if trying to expunge the image from her mind.‘Maybe I'll get one of those doo-dahs after all.’

We giggled.Like a bunch of tipsy schoolgirls drooling over a picture of a popstar in a magazine. It was fun. Much better than a discussion aboutmy hopeless real life.

The call wentout that the pub quiz was about to start and pens and paper weredelivered to all the tables taking part. We spent the next hour orso arguing about what river Niagara Falls was on and what number isnext to 17 clockwise on a dartboard. I managed to look intellectualby knowing that South West Africa is now called Namibia, and earnedsad points for remembering that Johnny Morris was the firstpresenter of Animal Magic.

We came secondto last with a pathetic 9 points out of 20. Niagara Falls turnedout to be on the Niagara River - not the Hudson, like Claireinsisted - and number 3 is next to 17 on a dartboard.

It was almosteleven by the time Sheila made her obligatory last trip to the loo,we said our goodbyes and left the pub.

‘You'reincorrigible!’ she said, still giggling, as she tottered over to mycar in high heels, giving added meaning to the term 'tipsy'. ‘Threetimes a night - in your dreams!’

With a bleep,my Fiesta unlocked and we got in. ‘It's not unheard of.’

‘But it's notreal,’ said Sheila. ‘Get his end away, then turn over