Remind Me Again Why I Need a Man by Claudia Carroll Page A

scumbag and if you
ever
come near her again, I’ll do this to you.’
    With that, she flings the pint of beer into his face, smashes the glass on the floor and strides back to where the rest of us are sitting, gobsmacked.
    â€˜Problem solved,’ she says. ‘Are you OK?’
    I’m too dumbstruck to speak, so Jamie expresses what we’re all feeling. ‘Well, congratulations, Rachel. You just became my personal heroine.’

Chapter Four
Who Says Only Mafia Wives Wear Leather?
    In my darkest moments of despair, when I’m seriously thinking that the universe has given up on ever finding me a life partner and wondering if I’m destined to live out the rest of my natural life alone, there’s one bright, shining thought which never fails to fill me with renewed optimism and hope for what lies ahead.
    Caroline and Mike and their perfect, soulmate marriage.
    Caroline and Mike are one of those couples that you just look at in awe and marvel at. He’s as lovely as she is; she adores him and he idolizes her. In fact, he’s put her on a pedestal so high that if Catherine Zeta Jones left Michael Douglas for him, the chances of him even noticing would be slim to negligible. They’re lucky, lucky people and you can’t even begrudge them, not for a moment. If ever I find myself wondering whether I’m better off alone, Caroline and Mike come into my mind and I think: NO. It doesn’t matter whatanyone says, true love exists and marriage
does
work. Spectacularly well, in fact.
    We’re just finishing up brunch when Mike arrives to collect Caroline, carrying a bunch of stargazer lilies, her favourites.
    â€˜Well? How are the champagne Sheilas?’ he asks, pecking me and Rachel on the cheek, but only after giving his glowing wife a bear hug and presenting her with the bouquet, as if he hasn’t seen her in weeks instead of only a couple of hours ago.
    Did I mention that, in addition to being both husband and father of the year, filthy rich and great fun to boot, Mike is also incredibly handsome? He’s very tall, broad-shouldered with classic, preppy good looks, bright blue eyes and alert good manners; the type of man who really
listens
to you and cares about what you’re saying – and it isn’t an act. He’s not only the type of man Ralph Lauren would kill to have in one of his ads, but the yardstick by which I unconsciously measure all future boyfriends/life partners/lovers/quickies/husbands.
    Even Jamie fancies him a bit.
    â€˜Actually, we’re remarkably sober,’ replies Rachel. ‘For us.’
    â€˜So what’ll you pair get up to for the rest of the afternoon?’ Caroline asks as we all say our goodbyes. I mutter something about having some shopping to do, but before I can say my five favourite words in theEnglish language, ‘seasonal stock reduced to clear’, Rachel has ordered another bottle of Sancerre.
    â€˜Feck it anyway,’ she says to me as soon as the happy couple have gone. ‘When you’re out, you’re out.’
    â€˜Rachel, can I ask you something?’
    â€˜As long as it’s not my real age. As Oscar Wilde says, a woman who would tell you that would tell you anything.’
    â€˜Do you ever look at Caroline and Mike and envy what they have?’
    She almost choked on the Sancerre. ‘Are you mental? Have you been inhaling cleaning products?’
    â€˜I’m serious.’
    â€˜So am I. Why would I envy anyone, just because they’re married? I have absolutely no desire to come home to lovey-dovey coupleland because I’ve been there and it’s all complete crap. Look at
me
, Amelia. I used to be like you. Idealistic and romantic and believing in the happy-ever-after fairy tale.
This
’ – she points threateningly at her own face – ‘is what two husbands have done to me. I am now looking down the barrel at forty and I’m not prepared to