I am a dating disaster.

Maybe I really should just settle for a dog.

Chapter 4

I’m early for brunch with Bea because I didn’t really sleep that well. All my nearly-dates whizzed round on a carousel in my head until I felt dizzy.

I don’t think all the glasses of prosecco I drank last night helped either.

I’m on my second large black americano when Bea grabs me from behind in a bearhug. If I hadn’t recognised her multicoloured nails (as in one in each colour) I’d have spat my coffee out and screamed.

‘I ordered you another coffee on my way in,’ she knows my addiction to caffeine, ‘and eggs Benedict.’ She plonks herself down opposite me. ‘Phew I’m knackered. Si came over all assertive after I hid the remote and wouldn’t let him watch the football. He said I needed taking in hand.’ She grins, her eyes alive with laughter.

‘Shush! Too much information.’ I put my hands over my ears in mock horror, and she giggles. Bea isn’t a giggly girl normally; whatever happened between the two of them has left her on a high that is better not explained in detail. I’m glad she’s happy, though, she deserves to be.

‘There can never be too much information! Come on then, tell me about your wild night out and this mystery guy, Noel.’

‘Noah. And it wasn’t a wild night out.’ I sip my coffee primly.

‘You could at least make something up just to satisfy my terrible imagination. Oh fab, thank you!’ She glances up as our breakfast is put on the table, dazzling the waitress in the same way she dazzles everybody. She is warm and lovely, a social butterfly and natural-giver wrapped up in a slightly zany parcel. ‘Go on, talk!’ She grins. ‘I know you’re dying to tell me something!’

‘I am.’ I take a bite of my breakfast, suddenly starving. Because I have made my mind up about what I need to do. Knowing has made me feel better about the world. And hungry. ‘On the walk over here, I made a decision. Well, three of them actually. Learning seduction techniques from Noah is an absolute no.’

‘What?’ Bea’s fork clatters onto the table. ‘Seduction!’ She squeals, oblivious to all the people who have turned round to stare. ‘Oh my God! Hit me with a copy of the Kama Sutra! He’s going to teach you—’

‘He’s not, aren’t you listening?’

‘But he offered!’ She shovels more food into her mouth and looks at me as though she’s expecting a revelation.

‘Bea.’ I sigh. I love her natural exuberance, but sometimes she needs to put the brakes on. ‘He said he would, and I said no. He’s not my type.’

‘You fancy him! You’ve said he’s not your type about five million times, which means he is!’

‘I don’t fancy him.’ I feel my back stiffen. ‘He, he …’

‘He what?’

‘Reminds me of …’ I study my plate, suddenly sad. ‘Dad.’ I force the word out, a squeak of a sound that is too small for a man like him.