Free My Single Friend by Jane Costello Page A

into a bar and wait for them to come to me?’
    We laugh.
    ‘What’s so funny?’ Henry frowns.
    ‘You’re not that irresistible,’ I tell him.
    ‘Oh,’ he says dejectedly.
    ‘No one’s that irresistible,’ clarifies Erin.
    ‘Oh,’ he says once more, perking up.
    ‘The fact is, love,’ Dominique continues, ‘women need a little encouragement. In fact, a lot of encouragement. I don’t know any woman who would hit on a bloke if he’d given absolutely no indication that he liked her.’
    Erin and I look at her meaningfully and she shrugs, saying, ‘Okay, I would hit on a guy without that. But I’m an exception. Besides, I’m not Henry’s type.’
    I detect a flash of relief in his eyes.
    ‘The point is,’ she continues, ‘you have to engage with a woman. To smile at her and say: “I like you, I think you’re hot. I want to talk to you, to get to know you better.” And you have to say all this to her . . . without saying anything at all .’
    ‘I have to pass her a note?’
    I stifle a giggle.
    ‘You say all this with your eyes ,’ says Dominique huskily.
    ‘My eyes,’ he repeats.
    ‘Your eyes,’ she breathes.
    ‘It’ll be a lot easier once your contacts are ready,’ I add reassuringly.
    Henry crosses his arms. ‘Heathcliff might have been able to say it with his eyes. Or Lord Byron. Or Dirk Bogarde. But me? At the moment, I can’t even rely on my eyes to stop me falling over.’
    ‘Forget those dudes, Henry,’ says Dominique firmly. ‘We’re talking about you . Besides, it’s not just with your eyes. It’s with your whole body language – your smile, the way you hold yourself.’
    ‘The way I—’
    ‘Don’t worry,’ interrupts Erin. ‘We’re going to show you.’
    ‘Yes, we are,’ adds Dominique. ‘Lucy, where is that stool you used to have in the kitchen? We need to create a bar atmosphere.’
    I go to the hall, dig out the stool from the cupboard and brush away enough cobwebs to knit an Aran jumper. When I return, Dominique is considering options for a stand-in bar. She takes the stool from me and places it in front of Henry’s piano, next to the one that’s already there.
    ‘That works,’ she says. ‘Now, on you go, Lucy.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘On you go. I need you to sit at the bar with your wine.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘So that Henry can try and seduce you.’
    ‘You can’t be serious.’
    She doesn’t blink. ‘Come on . It’s only for the purposes of the exercise.’
    ‘Why doesn’t Erin do it instead?’
    ‘Oh no,’ frowns Erin. ‘I don’t know Henry as well as you do. He’ll relax more with you.’
    ‘But—’
    ‘Come on, no buts,’ says Dominique, guiding me to the stool. I am soon propping up the piano, glass in hand – and feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
    ‘I have always hated role-playing,’ I mutter. ‘Besides, look at me – I’d never sit at a bar like some desperate floozy primed to pounce on the first bloke that appears.’
    ‘You make that sound like a bad thing,’ says Dominique.
    ‘Very funny,’ I reply. ‘I feel weird, Dom. Henry and I are friends . I don’t want him staring into my eyes and giving me gooey body language.’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous. All you’re trying to do is help him.’
    I sigh. ‘I suppose so.’
    Henry enters the room looking as if he’s suffering the sort of stage fright that could expedite a beta-blocker addiction.
    ‘Right, Henry.’ Dominique claps her hands. ‘Off you go.’
    He nods and walks tentatively to my side. ‘Um . . . do you mind if I join you?’
    ‘Remember what I told you,’ coaches Dominique. ‘ Smile with your eyes . Think Travolta in Saturday Night Fever . Connery as 007. And remember: you’re irresistible.’
    ‘Oh God,’ I groan. Henry frowns. ‘Sorry,’ I mutter. ‘Um, no problem, take a seat.’
    ‘Now,’ Dominique puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes him onto the stool. ‘Turn your body towards her, like that. Yes, that’s lovely. She can see your