Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating by Eleanor Prescott Page B

so many years perfecting.
    ‘Well, Maurice,’ she explained once there was a suitablegap in his diatribe, ‘the other women we’ve shown your profile to haven’t been interested in meeting you. You’re not their type.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Maurice asked peevishly.
    Audrey sighed. Technically Maurice was Alice’s client. Alice should already have managed his expectations.
    ‘Women like sporty men, high earners; men who are interested in animals and children and do all those fashionable, dangerous hobbies with parachutes and aeroplanes and funny bits of elastic. The ladies you’re after are the crème de la crème. They’re looking for men who’ll whisk them off for a surprise trip to the ballet . . .’
    Audrey could hear Maurice start to interject.
    ‘. . . in Paris,’ she added heavily. ‘Now, Maurice, I know you’ll thank me for telling you this, I’m not one to soft-soap. You need to lower your sights. Now, are you sure you wouldn’t like Alice to organize another rendezvous for you with Hayley? The veterinary nurse with the funny finger. I’m sure
she’d
be amenable for a second date.’
    Eventually an exasperated Audrey had handed Maurice over to Alice to pacify. He knew he was supposed to speak to her anyway, so heaven knows why he was bothering her with his whining.
    By eleven o’clock Audrey had taken refuge in her glass-walled office. She propped open the door – all the better to eavesdrop on the staff – and pretended to busy herself at the computer.
    ‘Phone call for you, Audrey,’ Hilary called out from across the office. ‘It’s Sheryl Toogood on line three.’
    ‘Oh, God, what does
she
want?’ Audrey grumbled, her fleeting peace shattered. She closed her office door. Conversations with Sheryl Toogood were awkward enough without the staff hanging on her every word.
    ‘Good moooorrrning, Audrey,’ Sheryl cooed. No one made as much of a meal of their vowels as Sheryl Toogood. Audrey could imagine her sitting in her office, all smarmy insincerity in a low-cut top.
    ‘Sheryl,’ she replied tartly through gritted teeth.
    ‘How aaaaaare you? How’s business?’
    ‘Booming,’ Audrey jumped in, pleased at the unexpected opportunity to boast. ‘We’ve just heard that we’ve matched another wedding!’
    ‘Oh, well done you! I know how you love a chance to dust off your hat and hurl some confetti.’
    Audrey hesitated, not sure if she was being patronized or not. ‘How are things at Love Birds?’ she diverted.
    ‘Oh, frightfully busy, as ever,’ Sheryl gushed. ‘I took on a new consultant last month: Matteus. He’s an internet dating specialist and very easy on the eye. He’s upped our online traffic by twenty per cent
and
brought in a dozen one-to-one clients too! We’re rushed off our feet. Every restaurant in the city has one of our couples dining there this evening.’
    ‘Very nice.’ Audrey forced the words out.
    ‘I know,’ Sheryl replied immodestly. Audrey could hear the synthetic swoosh of Sheryl’s tights as she crossed her legs.
    ‘And how’s your little online dating thing going, Audrey? Managed to increase your thumbprint yet?’
    Audrey could hear the squeak of a barely suppressed snigger. She flushed angrily. Sheryl would never let her forget her little gaffe. How was she supposed to know that websites had footprints? She wasn’t up on all the technical jargon. The blasted website. She’d only set it up because all the other agencies had them.
    ‘Look, I’ll cut to the chase, Aud,’ Sheryl continued before Audrey had had a chance to think of a cutting reply. ‘I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice that it’s the DIPS ball next month.’
    ‘Absolutely not!’ Audrey exclaimed. DIPS was shorthand for the Dating Practitioners’ Society. Audrey never used abbreviations herself; they were an insult to the Queen’s English.
    ‘I trust you’ll be coming?’
    ‘But of course!’
    The date had been etched across Audrey’s consciousness from