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

thirty-seven years of age and I’ve been dating since I was sixteen. I’m officially worn out. Where is he?’
    â€˜Not on some bloody night course anyway,’ says Rachel. ‘Unless he’s teaching it. I’m sorry, darling, but face facts. If it hasn’t happened by now, it’s not going to. The secret of a happy life at our age is to gracefully accept that yes, men do like strong, independent women, once they’re hot, sexy and under thirty-five. It’s like that fabulous quote: “Being an old maid is a little bit like drowning. A really delightful sensation once you give up the struggle.” ’
    Just then, an imposingly tall, good-looking, preppy guy, who looks and dresses like he has a proper job, approaches Rachel. ‘Hiya,’ he says confidently. ‘Just wondered if I could buy you a drink?’
    â€˜Piss off,’ she says, without even looking at him.
    See what I mean about the lethal Rachel pheromone? The poor guy skulks off without even a backward glance in my direction and suddenly I get all defensive. It’s OK for her, she’s had two husbands; it’s OK for Caroline, she has a perfect life; and it’s OK for Jamie, he changes boyfriends the way the rest of uschange shoes. I just have to work a bit harder at it, that’s all.
    There is no lethal Amelia pheromone.
    Nor can I help feeling that this is my very, very, very last chance to do something about it.
    â€˜Well, I’ve tried everything else,’ I reply. ‘Internet dating, speed dating, blind dates; short of joining the Knock marriage bureau, you name it, I’ve given it a whirl. And all with zero per cent success. I must be doing something wrong, so why not try the business marketing approach? I mean, huge corporations spend millions on this sort of thing, so if it works in the world of commerce, why not dating?’
    â€˜But, Amelia,’ says Caroline gently, ‘you have such a fantastic life as it is. Try walking a few miles in my shoes and you’ll appreciate just how great you have it. You get to stay in bed all weekend, if you feel like it. Your purse is full of disposable income.’
    â€˜Yes, we loveless loners are so lucky.’
    They all roar laughing, but I wasn’t trying to be funny.
    â€˜Come on, girlies. I don’t know why it is, but finding a partner is just so
easy
for some people, but to me it’s like climbing Mount Everest.’
    What I really mean is … I seem to have a hex on me. It’s almost as if some wicked fairy came to my christening, just like in the Disney cartoon
Sleeping Beauty
, and said, ‘OK, I got good news and bad newsfor you.’ (In my imagination, the wicked fairy talks a bit like a mafia don.) ‘The good news is, everything in your life will be great, but the bad news is, you’re destined to live it out alone. Capeesh?’
    I may not be able to break the curse, but one thing’s for sure: I’ll get there or die trying. This is the year.
    I’ll give it twelve months and if it still hasn’t happened, then I’ll gracefully give up and spend the rest of my life going on lesbian walking tours at weekends. I’ll leave instructions in my will that my headstone is to be engraved with the immortal phrase: ‘Here lies Amelia Lockwood, spinster of this parish. She may have died single, but at least she bloody well tried.’
    â€˜Well, I think it’s a fabulous idea.’ We all turn to look at Jamie, intrigued. I was fully expecting him, of all people, to make mincemeat of the whole thing. ‘I mean, just look at you, Amelia. In every other respect, you’re completely and utterly at the top of your game. You’re so pretty; I always say behind your back that you’re one of the undiscovered beauties of Ireland. You know, a bit like the Antrim coastline.’
    â€˜You’re comparing her to scenery in Northern Ireland?’ says