Remind Me Again Why I Need a Man Read Free Page A

Rachel.
    â€˜Whaddya mean, too butch?’
    â€˜I mean, not your type. Not artistic-looking enough.’
    â€˜Oh, please, it’s not like he just came in from branding cattle and smoking Marlboro.’
    â€˜Hey, I just don’t want you to go out with someone and for people to think you met in a police line-up—’
    â€˜Don’t bother finishing that sentence, Rachel,’ says Jamie, a bit miffed. ‘I’ll just catch the rest of that gag on the
Antiques Roadshow
.’
    It may sound like they’re on the verge of a feud but, honestly, Jamie and Rachel really are best friends. This is just the way they spark off each other. However, Ijudge it a very opportune moment to change the subject. ‘I have news.’
    â€˜So do I,’ says Jamie.
    â€˜So do I, but let Amelia go first,’ says Caroline with typical niceness. ‘She never gets to go first.’
    I take a deep breath, then whip the ‘FATE IS LATE!’ ad out of my handbag, carefully spreading it out in the middle of the table for them all to google at. ‘So. What do we think?’ I ask hopefully.
    The silence alone should have alerted me.
    â€˜You have got to be taking the piss,’ says Rachel, scrutinizing it. ‘Are you seriously telling me that you’re supposed to track down all your exes and then say – what? What was it about me drove you nuts when we were going out? Now
that’s
ironic, Alanis Morissette.’
    â€˜Something like that, yes.’
    â€˜And this is going to help you find a soulmate?’ Rachel’s on her high horse now. ‘Face it, sweetie. We’re your soulmates. Whether you like it or not.’
    OK, maybe not the reaction I’d hoped for, but I’ll plough on … ‘Thanks very much, two divorces. What do the rest of you think?’
    â€˜Oh, honey,’ says Caroline, clocking the hurt look on my face, ‘I know you’ve been single for a long time.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ says Jamie, ‘ever since you broke up with
He-whose-name-shall-forever-remain-unspoken
.’
    The gang all make gestures of sticking their fingersdown their throats and throwing up, at the mere hint of the name Jamie has just conjured up, which I gamely choose to ignore. Not the time, not the place.
    â€˜Apart from him, I’ve pretty much been single for most of my thirties, bar a few horrific dates which we won’t even bother going into.’
    Rachel starts to chortle. ‘Do you remember that guy you went on a blind date with who turned out to be in the IRA?’
    â€˜Well, that just shows that I’ve been a brave little foot soldier,’ I reply, wincing a bit at the memory. ‘And that I’m prepared to get out of my cosy comfort zone. I mean, if a girl can’t find a husband among the non-paramilitaries—’
    â€˜If daytime television has taught me nothing,’ Caroline gently interrupts, ‘it’s that the man of your dreams is out there somewhere for you, and that you’ll meet him when the time is right. There has to be serendipity about it. I honestly think these things are bigger than us. I really do.’
    â€˜If I was married to a big ride like you are, I’d probably say the same thing,’ says Jamie. ‘Look, we all know you really want to be with someone, Amelia—’
    â€˜No, I’ve been with people. That’s
not
what I want. I want to be married. Sorry if this sounds old-fashioned, but
I want my husband
. Look, just say I live to be eighty, then I’ve already lived almost half my life alone. I’d love someone to share the second half with,that’s all. Yes, it’s about having kids before it’s too late and all of that, but it’s the little things too. You know, just … someone to read the papers with in bed on a Sunday morning and, I dunno … someone who’ll give me a hug at the end of a rough day. Girlies, I’m