Jennifer Joyce - The Wedding Date

We both look back towards the treadmills, where one of the regular gym members is pounding away, clocking up the miles as sweat pours from his face. He has a towel around his neck, which he uses frequently to wipe the sweat away from his eyes. We see him here all the time but he never uses any other equipment. Just the treadmill, over and over again. He was on the treadmill when we arrived and he’ll still be there when we leave.

‘I want a date that takes place outside of the gym,’ I say. ‘And one that doesn’t involve running and buckets of sweat.’

Lauren tuts. ‘You’re so fussy.’

‘Would you date him?’

‘Nah.’ Lauren stops her pitiful attempt at rowing. ‘But then I’m not desperate.’ She grins as I swat her. ‘I’ve had enough. Shall we go and get a smoothie?’

‘Yes!’ I leap up from the rowing machine, using up more energy than I have in the hour that we’ve been here.

I’m hoping the perfect guy will present himself in the juice bar, all clean and sweat-free and easy to talk to. But there’s only me and Lauren in there so I make do with an orange and pineapple smoothie. I guess the gym isn’t the ideal place for me to meet men anyway. They’ll expect me to be fit and willing to exercise. What if he wanted to go jogging on Sunday mornings? Ugh. It’s exhausting enough pretending to exercise with Lauren twice a week – I really don’t want to actually exert myself.

‘So if not the gym, where?’ Lauren asks.

I shrug and take a long suck of my smoothie. ‘I was hoping you’d be able to give me some pointers. You’ve been single for longer than I have.’

‘Thanks for the reminder.’ Lauren sticks her tongue out at me. ‘What about work? You seem to like that Adam guy.’

‘Adam’s great. He’s funny, kind and gorgeous, but he’s just a mate. Plus, I work with him and that can get messy, especially when I end it after the wedding.’

‘So you’re really still just going to use the guy as a front? No actual romance?’

I shake my head. ‘No romance. I don’t want a future with the guy, just a wedding date.’

Lauren takes a sip of her smoothie. She’s opted for a classic strawberry and banana. ‘Don’t you miss it though?’

‘Miss what?’ I miss Ben, but that’s pretty obvious.

‘Having a boyfriend? Having fun, dating. Sex.’ Lauren sighs. ‘I haven’t had sex in so long.’

It’s been eight months since I’ve had sex. A month after we split up, Ben broke the no contact rule and we’d hooked up. I’d foolishly thought we were getting back together but it turned out it was just a ‘for old time’s sake’ fumble and I’d been too embarrassed – not to mention crushed – to tell anybody about it. But still, it showed that Ben was still attracted to me so a tiny remnant of hope clung on.

‘Why don’t you do anything about it?’ I ask, ensuring the spotlight remains on Lauren’s sex life and not mine. ‘You hardly ever go on dates any more.’

Lauren takes a long slurp of her smoothie until she ends up noisily hoovering up the dregs in the bottom of the glass. ‘I guess I’m just not interested in dating random guys,’ she says once her smoothie has been depleted.

‘You’re interested in Courtney,’ I tease. ‘Why don’t you talk to him?’ Despite having a massive crush on Courtney, Lauren has never actually had a conversation with the man.

‘I’m happy to ogle from afar.’ Lauren hops off her stool and grabs her gym bag. ‘Come on, let’s go and meet Ryan at the pub and we can think of more ideas for Project Wedding Date.’

Chapter 8

Kitchen Skills (or lack of)

Text Message:

Dad:Takeaway tonight – Indian, Chinese or pizza?

Delilah:I thought Mum left you instructions for making lasagne?

Dad:She did. And when she gets back from Aunty Liz’s we’ll tell her it was delicious but not nearly as good as hers

Delilah:Fair enough. Chinese then please

I haven’t spent much time in the development kitchen at Brinkley’s. I glimpsed inside it during my tour of the buildings on my first day but other than that it has never been a place I’ve been required – or permitted – to go to. The kitchen is stark with grey flooring and chrome appliances and worktops. The lack of natural light means the room is lit with headache-inducing strip lighting. The room is so uninspiring it’s hard to believe such delicious products are created here.

‘I’ve set aside a workspace for you over here.’ Karen, who works in development, points out the space at the far end of the kitchen. Neville arrived back from the brand-building conference full of ideas (and beer, judging by the lingering hangover) and, inspired by what he had learned, Neville has loosened the Brinkley purse strings and injected some much-needed cash into the firm’s social media efforts. One of Adam’s ideas was to set up a blog (yes, Brinkley’s really is in the dark ages when it comes to social media. Before Adam arrived in the office to rescue us from technological suicide, Brinkley’s didn’t even have a Twitter account) and Karen has agreed to give us a hand for the afternoon. We’re going to develop some recipes using Brinkley’s biscuits and post them onto the blog. Katey-Louise had originally wanted to play the role of glamorous assistant to Adam but she took one look at what she would have to wear to comply with health and safety rules and dropped out. So now I’m playing the not-so-glamorous assistant in my overalls and hairnet.

‘I printed out a lemon and ginger nut cheesecake recipe.’ Adam places the printout and a bag of ingredients on the stainless steel counter.

Karen gives it a quick glance and nods her head. ‘Looks easy enough. Delilah, why don’t you crush the biscuits while Adam melts the butter?’

Crushing the biscuits is a lot of fun, especially as I pretend the ginger nuts are Ben’s face.

‘I think that’s enough.’ Karen places a hand on my arm to stop me whacking the bag of biscuits with my rolling pin again. There would have been nothing but ginger nut dust if I’d been left to my own devices. ‘I always picture my ex-husband.’ Karen winks at me before she moves on with the recipe.

The next steps of the recipe aren’t as much fun as the biscuit bashing, but Adam, Karen and I have a lovely afternoon in the development kitchen. It’s nice to be away from the Brinkley crew for a couple of hours and the freedom allows me to enjoy myself. Adam and Karen are a laugh and we joke around as we make the cheesecake. Adam takes a few photos as we go along, which he’ll add to the blog and Instagram when we get back to the office.

‘And that’s it,’ Karen says once we’ve spooned the filling on top of the biscuit base and added a bit of lemon zest for decoration. ‘We’ll leave this in the fridge overnight and then it’ll be ready.’

‘That wasn’t so bad,’ Adam says. He looks relieved that we haven’t burned the kitchen down to rubble. ‘Have you got any other ideas of things we could make out of Brinkley’s biscuits?’

Karen pops our cheesecake into one of the fridges. ‘Rocky road bites would work really well and they’re so easy to make. We could also come up with a new ice cream flavour. That’s always fun. We could have a go now if you’ve got time?’

Using Brinkley’s shortcake biscuits and chopped up strawberries, we make a strawberry shortcake ice cream that smells divine. While the mixture is in the ice cream maker, we make a start on the rocky road bites.

‘I should make some of these with my nephews,’ Adam says, licking a splatter of melted chocolate from his wrist.

‘You have nephews?’ I don’t know that much about Adam. We’ve chatted in the office and here in the kitchen, but it’s been about our hobbies and film and TV and now food we like. I don’t know anything personal about Adam. Like if he has a girlfriend. Or a wife.