Really, really unfair. Of course you deserve someone else, someone new – just for you. I just worry about you. I want you to find someone great, Annie, and not settle for anything less. If you want to go to this dinner thing to have a look, well, you know . . . maybe you should go and I should just shut up.’
‘Oh babes, I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Annie sat up and wiped her eyes.
‘No, don’t be silly. What would I do without you? Come on, what have you got there? Details of your fellow Discerning Diners? Show!’
‘Bet you I get a great date on my first dinner,’ Annie challenged.
‘Bet you don’t.’
Chapter Four
Discerning Diner Annie:
Rose pink strappy cocktail dress (Monsoon sale)
Sequinned evening bag (Accessorize sale)
Purple suede Manolo heels (The Store’s sale preview day)
Yellow cropped swing jacket (Valentino, eBay, used but flawless)
Total est. cost £380
‘I thought we were supposed to dress up!’
‘Open the door!’ Annie shouted to her children from her bedroom at the top of the stairs. ‘That’ll be Mr Leon.’
It was 6.45 p.m. and she was having a last minute fret about her hair. She’d decided not to scrape her blond locks into the usual slick ponytail for her first Discerning Diner dinner but to wear them loose. Now that the hair was falling down about her face in the artfully artless way caused by careful application of the tongs, she didn’t know if she liked it.
She looked so different. Pretty . . . yes. Maybe too pretty. Curly blond locks and a pink dress. Maybe it was too much. Despite over-exposure to Cinderella , she preferred herself all sharp and fashionably focused in darker shades with a sleek head.
But this was dating. High level, designer dating. And wasn’t she always, always telling clients that they had to dress for the occasion?
She pressed her pink glossed lips together, slung her yolk-yellow Valentino over her shoulders and picked up her evening bag. Heels trip-trapping on the shiny oak stairs, she headed down to say hello to the music teacher.
Ed Leon with his hefty woollen overcoat and bright red guitar case was filling up the entire hallway as he chatted to Lana and Owen.
‘Yeah, basic chords,’ he was telling them. ‘So easy once you’ve got the guitar tuned. But tuning the guitar, really tuning her up beautifully, that’s the difficult bit, a real skill, no, an art, I’d say . . . Lana, why don’t you join us?’
Ha! Good luck trying , Annie couldn’t help thinking. Lana had moaned and scowled from the moment Annie had come through the front door about ‘that geek Mr Leon’ coming round.
‘D’you know what he’s called at school?’ Lana had said.
‘Do I want to know?’ Annie had warned.
‘Ed the Shed,’ Owen had butted in. ‘Because he smells a bit parky,’ and when Annie had rattled with laughter, he’d added: ‘You have to admit, it’s funny.’
‘We’re going to do some chords,’ Ed the Shed was telling Lana down in the hallway. ‘We might break into a bit of 1980s retro guitar . . . hey, Owen? Have a little Michelle Shocked, Billy Bragg moment. C’mon, Lana, just listen in.’
‘Who?’ was Lana’s response, but to Annie’s surprise her daughter seemed to be showing some signs of interest.
Then Annie was on the stairs where she caught Ed looking up at her and doing an obvious double-take at the heels, the hair and the dress, definitely the dress.
‘Hello, Mr Leon, great of you to come.’ She smiled a welcome. ‘I’m leaving the three of you in peace and going out to a dinner party,’ she explained over his insistent ‘Please call me Ed’.
‘OK, Ed,’ was Owen’s response. Immediately he turned bright pink, but he was smiling, obviously pleased with himself that he’d managed to say something so early into the tuition session.
‘Owen!’ Annie scolded, but gently, with an encouraging smile, ‘I’m not sure Mr Leon
‘Oh babes, I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Annie sat up and wiped her eyes.
‘No, don’t be silly. What would I do without you? Come on, what have you got there? Details of your fellow Discerning Diners? Show!’
‘Bet you I get a great date on my first dinner,’ Annie challenged.
‘Bet you don’t.’
Chapter Four
Discerning Diner Annie:
Rose pink strappy cocktail dress (Monsoon sale)
Sequinned evening bag (Accessorize sale)
Purple suede Manolo heels (The Store’s sale preview day)
Yellow cropped swing jacket (Valentino, eBay, used but flawless)
Total est. cost £380
‘I thought we were supposed to dress up!’
‘Open the door!’ Annie shouted to her children from her bedroom at the top of the stairs. ‘That’ll be Mr Leon.’
It was 6.45 p.m. and she was having a last minute fret about her hair. She’d decided not to scrape her blond locks into the usual slick ponytail for her first Discerning Diner dinner but to wear them loose. Now that the hair was falling down about her face in the artfully artless way caused by careful application of the tongs, she didn’t know if she liked it.
She looked so different. Pretty . . . yes. Maybe too pretty. Curly blond locks and a pink dress. Maybe it was too much. Despite over-exposure to Cinderella , she preferred herself all sharp and fashionably focused in darker shades with a sleek head.
But this was dating. High level, designer dating. And wasn’t she always, always telling clients that they had to dress for the occasion?
She pressed her pink glossed lips together, slung her yolk-yellow Valentino over her shoulders and picked up her evening bag. Heels trip-trapping on the shiny oak stairs, she headed down to say hello to the music teacher.
Ed Leon with his hefty woollen overcoat and bright red guitar case was filling up the entire hallway as he chatted to Lana and Owen.
‘Yeah, basic chords,’ he was telling them. ‘So easy once you’ve got the guitar tuned. But tuning the guitar, really tuning her up beautifully, that’s the difficult bit, a real skill, no, an art, I’d say . . . Lana, why don’t you join us?’
Ha! Good luck trying , Annie couldn’t help thinking. Lana had moaned and scowled from the moment Annie had come through the front door about ‘that geek Mr Leon’ coming round.
‘D’you know what he’s called at school?’ Lana had said.
‘Do I want to know?’ Annie had warned.
‘Ed the Shed,’ Owen had butted in. ‘Because he smells a bit parky,’ and when Annie had rattled with laughter, he’d added: ‘You have to admit, it’s funny.’
‘We’re going to do some chords,’ Ed the Shed was telling Lana down in the hallway. ‘We might break into a bit of 1980s retro guitar . . . hey, Owen? Have a little Michelle Shocked, Billy Bragg moment. C’mon, Lana, just listen in.’
‘Who?’ was Lana’s response, but to Annie’s surprise her daughter seemed to be showing some signs of interest.
Then Annie was on the stairs where she caught Ed looking up at her and doing an obvious double-take at the heels, the hair and the dress, definitely the dress.
‘Hello, Mr Leon, great of you to come.’ She smiled a welcome. ‘I’m leaving the three of you in peace and going out to a dinner party,’ she explained over his insistent ‘Please call me Ed’.
‘OK, Ed,’ was Owen’s response. Immediately he turned bright pink, but he was smiling, obviously pleased with himself that he’d managed to say something so early into the tuition session.
‘Owen!’ Annie scolded, but gently, with an encouraging smile, ‘I’m not sure Mr Leon
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