summer hols. There was this constant stream of women dropping in on him. “Do you fancy a drink, Darren?” “Can you loosen this lid, Darren? – oh, you are so strong!” “Oh, a man who can cook – Darren you are very special.’”
I don’t really like what Linda is telling me but her impressions are hilarious and I can’t help but giggle. Besides, she wouldn’t be telling me all this unless she was saying that I’m somehow different. Would she? Well, maybe she would. After all, she’s only seventeen. Perhaps this is her unsubtle way of telling me that she (and he) have seen it all before.
‘He is a good cook,’ I comment. ‘He made me cheese on toast last night and it was really special.’
‘Special!’ Linda is derisive and she’s within her rights, considering what I’ve just said. I catch her eye, which is clever of me, considering the speed at which she is rolling them.
‘Not you as well! I thought you’d be impervious!’
‘Me what?’ As soon as the words are out I regret them. She’s youthful; she’s likely to tell me.
‘You’ve fallen for him.’
‘I haven’t.’
‘Really, you haven’t fallen for him?’ asks Linda.
‘Really.’
‘What a shame, because I think he’s fallen for you.’
Hallelujah, hallelujah.
Linda picks up an apple and takes a hungry bite, shrugs and leaves me to my thoughts.
Where is the cheese box? The fresh herbs? The avocado? The fridge is heaving but there is nothing I can eat. I’m faced with a dazzling selection from Rowntree and Cadbury. But fish fingers, Alphabite potato wedges and Heinz sauce were not what I had in mind for a romantic dinner for two. Where is the adult food?
What am I saying? Romantic? I’ve never had romantic dinners before.
Strategic, yes, but not romantic.
Still, the end result is the same: sex. So it’s simply a case of semantics.
I have to have sex with Darren. It’s obvious – why didn’t I think of it earlier? A surefire way to dispel any fanciful notions that I may be inadvertently harbouring. Having sex with Darren would bring him down to the same level as everyone else I’ve ever had sex with. He’s definitely not going on the show now, so there would be no concerns about a lack of professionalism if I slept with him. Nor would there be any possibility of seeing him again, which erases the possibility of tiresome consequential scenes. And as he is as sexy as hell, well, why shouldn’t I have a crack? I brush away my New Year’s resolution in the same way that every other year I sneak an extra fag or drink.
Unaccountably, I’m nervous. I have expertly seduced the most dazzling and dull array of individuals. Darren must be like one of them. He must fit into one of my types and as soon as I identify the type, I can select the most appropriate strategy. I rule out anything obvious that I would try with my bimbo boys. I rule out anything dishonest that I would try with the less scrupulous dates I’ve bagged. I rule out anything that requires a fake identity – he knows me too well already. I look at my clothes. An ensemble of things I’ve borrowed from Shelly and Sarah, plus the one or two practical pieces that Issie insisted on stealing into my case. I look dreadful, so I rule out anything that is entirely dependent on my couture. I only have tonight, so I rule out anything that requires a long lead time. I had thought of cooking for him – such an act of selflessness, the candles and, if all else fails, the wine would have the desired effect. But having seen the contents of the fridge and also considering how notoriously difficult it is to cook in someone else’s kitchen, I rule that out too. Yet I’m leaving tomorrow. I really do have to catch an early train. Bale will go ballistic if I delay any longer, unnecessarily so in my opinion. Fi can handle the film crews until I get there.
I look at my watch. It’s 9.15 p.m.
It’s now or never.
Never is not an option. I’ll have to wing it.
I track Darren down in the front room; he’s listening to Radio 4. ‘Let’s go out. I assume there is a restaurant in Whitby that’s still open after nine?’ I challenge.
‘Plenty. Get your coat.’
11
Darren uses the term ‘restaurant’ much more generously than I would. You can, after all, buy food at a hot dog stand, but I doubt