Star Fish Read Free Page B

this strangely comforting.
    As I handed over two weeks’ salary to encompass my twelve introductions, I suddenly felt apprehensive. I also felt quite broke; it would probably have been cheaper to just buy a husband over the Internet!
    This was for sure the start of something very big. Something very big – and very embarrassing.

– Three –
    Aries: You could be skating on thin ice today if you make a love decision.
    ‘I am allergic to my wrinkle cream!’ I screamed, running down the landing towards Brad.
    ‘The model on that advert is a bitch. How dare she smirk on television with her smooth face, telling the world how gorgeous she is because of this wonderful product.’
    ‘Calm down Princess,’ Brad replied in his usual relaxed manner. ‘They film her from a distance with something over the lens, I expect.’
    ‘That’s not the bloody point! Just look at my eyes – they’ve gone all red and swollen.
    Brad was now laughing. ‘I bet they say not to put it near your eye area.’
    ‘Don’t be smart, that’s not the bloody point either!’ I then calmed down as in the grand scheme of things you could hardly notice it. I was just being dramatic as tonight, Friday, I was going on my first date with Aries photographer Steve Edwards.
    ‘I’m going to snee – Attishoo!’
    ‘Bless you,’ Brad said hastily getting out of range.
    I love sneezing – great big powerful sneezes. I also like the ceremonious ‘Bless you’ that follows. In fact there are three main things that I want from a man: For him to say, ‘Bless you’ whenever I sneeze, preferably a ‘bless you’ for every single sneeze, even if they come in a whoosh of say three at a time. That he buys me flowers at least once a month, and most importantly, I want to hear him say, ‘Amy Anderson, don’t ever change’ just once. Then, I would most certainly marry him.
    Steve Edwards was funny. His whole appearance made me smile. He was around six foot three, his arms and legs were everywhere, and he had a stubbly chin and smiling brown eyes. Steve wasn’t particularly handsome, but he was fun. I liked fun, therefore I liked Steve. He made me laugh; he made me feel at ease. I had known him precisely twenty-one minutes and we were getting on brilliantly. Maybe this dating game was going to easier than I thought.
    The fact that we had to wait ages in the queue to pay to go ice-skating didn’t matter. The fact that I had put on a skirt didn’t matter. The fact that I was with a man from a dating agency didn’t matter until aargh!
    Here I was Amy Jane Anderson; thirty-two years old, being dragged round the ice rink like a whirling dervish by a mad photographer. Whee! My exhilaration was taken over by complete terror when I lost my grip on one of his gangly arms and went hurtling towards an advertising board on the edge of the rink.
    ‘Amy? Amy are you OK?’
    I felt as though I was in a Tom & Jerry cartoon with stars coming out of my head. If only I could have pressed the ‘Off’ button. And I really wished that I had checked beforehand where Steve was taking me on our date so that I could have dressed appropriately. By now, my skirt had risen right up my thighs and my new M&S hold-in knickers were on show to the whole of Ice City. Who in their right mind would wear stockings ice-skating?
    There and then I decided that I should take off my Piscean rose-coloured glasses and get ready to expect the unexpected where this dating lark was concerned. My watery smile suddenly turned into gushing tears of humiliation.
    ‘I’m so embarrassed Steve. I’ve only ever been skating on a school trip before.’
    ‘It’s OK, don’t worry – my sense of adventure got the better of me. I thought you’d be able to keep up.’
    I was very wobbly when I got back onto my feet. Steve struggled to pull me up and I rearranged my skirt.
    The teenagers nearby were still smirking when Steve asked, ‘OK now? See you in a min.’ He then proceeded to speed-skate around