Remind Me Again Why I Need a Man Read Free

ago, when he was actually quite attractive. ‘At the risk of sounding like a primmer version of one of those spinstery type parts that Maggie Smith always plays,’ I say, ‘may I just point out that I only ever kissed him
once
at the studio wrap party and, in my defence, it was Christmas, I was lonely, I had knocked back four glasses of Pinot Noiron an empty stomach and, well, you know what I always say?’
    â€˜ “Christmas is not for single people,” ’ they all chorus, impersonating me very accurately. Well, I can’t really give out; it is yet
another
one of my catch-phrases …
    â€˜Laugh all you like, girlies, but it’s only the truth. Any festival that makes you think it’s a good idea to snog the face off a man you’d ordinarily cross the street to avoid, just because there happens to be a mangy bit of plastic mistletoe hanging from a glitter ball with John Lennon singing “Merry Christmas (War is Over)”, can’t exactly be good for you, can it?’
    â€˜She didn’t know what she was doing, your honour,’ says Rachel theatrically.
    â€˜She could have been kissing Bin Laden for all she knew. Or cared,’ says Jamie.
    â€˜Pay no attention,’ says Caroline sweetly, playing with a strand of her long, golden hair. (Natural, natural, natural. Honestly. The only time Caroline ever goes near a salon is when she needs to get chewing gum cut out of one of her children’s hair.) ‘Anyway, isn’t it a kind of rite of passage for working on
Celtic Tigers
? You’re not officially part of the show until you’ve had a squeeze with Rob Richards.’
    â€˜Just because he’s Mr Big Shot Household Name doesn’t entitle him to some kind of medieval droit de seigneur,’ says Rachel crisply. ‘Men like thathave absolutely no difficulty in releasing their inner PUA.’
    â€˜Their what?’ I ask.
    â€˜Pick-up artist.’
    â€˜It’s a rare occurrence, I know, but don’t you just hate it when Rachel is right?’ Jamie says.
    OK, time for me to get off this highly embarrassing subject … ‘So, anyway, we’re filming his big wedding to Glenda tomorrow and the final run-through this evening was a disaster. Neither of them has a clue of their lines. I had to spend the last two hours scribbling them down on three-foot-high idiot boards because everyone else in the office had gone home. I swear, humble and all as a deputy producer’s job is, I really don’t get paid enough.’
    â€˜OH MY GOWWWWD, Rob Richards marries GLENDA?’ Caroline, a stay-at-home mom, is the only one of the Lovely Girls who actually watches the show. ‘I never in a million years thought they’d actually go through with it. I mean, not after he had a one-night stand with Shantania on his stag night and then confessed it to Glenda the next day. And he’s not been out of the coma all that long either.’
    â€˜Honey, you have
got
to get out more,’ said Rachel, shoving an uneaten bowl of tapas away from her. ‘Why is it that everything in here tastes like regurgitated bat vomit?’
    â€˜It’s protein only,’ Caroline explains helpfully.
    â€˜This is protein? I thought it was house insulant.’ Then she picks up an empty champagne flute and waves it threateningly under Jamie’s nose. ‘Excuse me, lounge boy? Refills badly needed, please.’
    â€˜Oh, you are so sweet!’ Jamie replies, delighted. ‘You really think I could pass for a lounge boy? Because they’re only, like, sixteen. God bless Crème de la Mer, that’s all I can say. Oh, stay cool, my lovelies, cute guy alert. You know that divine manager I told you about? Here he comes, so just act natural, everyone.’
    This has precisely the opposite effect as we all do 180-degree neck swivels to see who he’s talking about.
    â€˜Too butch-looking for you, darling,’ says