The Importance of Being a Bachelor Read online

  Now granted that Ameee (she had insisted that it was spelled with three ‘e’s) wasn’t up to Adam’s usual standard but as he had stood at the bar with his mates searching his soul and wondering exactly when his life had become this superficial he found himself making eye contact with an amazing-looking blonde in a spangly gold minidress who had the longest tanned legs he had seen in quite a while. Presented with the dilemma of confirming his friends’ prejudices or refuting them Adam went on to automatic pilot. He walked over to the girl, dazzled her with his best sales talk and just after midnight hopped into the back of a cab with her. The rest had been depressingly inevitable.

  Adam plucked his long since popped-up toast out of the toaster, slapped a large wedge of butter on each slice and headed back into the living room. For a while he sat on the edge of the sofa, intermittently chewing his toast and slurping his tea, while he stared at the fireplace thinking about everything and nothing until an idea suddenly presented itself. Adam began searching the room first for some paper (in the end he had to settle for the back of the envelope that his latest gas bill had arrived in) and then for a pen (in fact a stubby IKEA pencil that he found down the side of the sofa) and then began writing. At the top of his envelope he wrote the following:

  things i should be looking for in the right kind of woman

  1. Must have read at least one book in the previous month.

  2. Must be no prettier than a solid eight out of ten.

  3. Must not consider sleeping with me until after first date.

  4. Must have a career of some kind (this excludes ALL models and actresses).

  5. Must want to start a family.

  6. Must be able to cook without use of microwave.

  7. Must be able to hold a conversation.

  8. Would be nice if she had a sense of humour (though not compulsory).

  9. Must not have been sick through overindulgence in the last three years.

  10. Must occasionally like doing cultural stuff.

  11. Must be over thirty (preferably over thirty-five).

  12. Would ideally be a non-cat owner (but given item eleven am prepared to be flexible on this one).

  13. Must not be currently seeing a therapist.

  14. Must not possess more than a moderate belief in complementary medicine . . .

  15. Or astrology.

  16. Must like me.

  Adam looked over the list. This was it. This was brilliant. Everything that he wanted in the right kind of woman together with the perfect method of weeding out the wrong kind. Just to double-check his list’s brilliance Adam decided to score Ameee with the three ‘e’s against it and was pleased to discover that she would have scored a very poor three out of sixteen and been sent packing. Adam then did the same for his last three conquests (a one-time glamour model, the ex-girlfriend of a former Liverpool defender, and a former Big Brother contestant) and was delighted to see that they too would have been weeded out.

  Maybe the boys were right: maybe he should have done away with this kind of girl a long time ago. Without further challenge to his synapses he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

  ‘Twenty minutes after Luke met her.’

  Mid-morning on Sunday found Russell in the kitchen of his shared house in Chorlton pouring a huge mountain of Coco Pops into his bowl. Returning the cereal packet to the cupboard he was about to bend over the counter and hoover up a number of stray Coco Pops with his lips when his mobile phone buzzed. The message was from Angie: ‘Thanks for talking me off the ledge and feeding me lager! Love you! A xxx’. Russell smiled and was about to return to his Coco Pops when his phone buzzed again: ‘PS. I hope you’re not having Coco Pops for breakfast again! Those things will kill you!’ Russell kept his eyes fixed on the screen in the knowledge that when Angie was in this kind of mood the texts tended to come in threes. Sure enough, a third message arrived: ‘PPS. And whatever you do don’t spend all morning mooning over Cassie!!!! That’s an order!!!’

  At the very sight of Cassie’s name Russell felt his frame sink under the weight of remorse. Remorse for being in love with his brother’s girlfriend and even worse for having shared this knowledge with another human being. Heading to the living room Russell settled down in front of his Sunday newspaper and found himself distracted from both cereal and newspaper by the question of why he’d ever told Angie about Cassie in the first place. For starters admitting to fancying your brother’s girlfriend was more than a bit weird. Normal people, didn’t do that kind of thing unless they were the sort who appeared on daytime TV talk shows and he was certainly not that kind of person. Second, having told Angie, there could be no untelling which meant that even if one day he was to get over his secret crush on Cassie there would always be at least one person in the world who knew what kind of freak he really was. Finally, despite his reassurances last night, it was completely true that their relationship had always been something of a one-way street. Angie would unburden herself of whatever was on her mind while Russell would listen and nod in the appropriate gaps in the conversation before offering Angie such nuggets of wisdom as he could lay his hands on. That was how it was supposed to work and that was how he had always liked it. And yet Russell had, in a moment of weakness, in a pub, on an evening when they had both imbibed more than a fair bit of alcohol, willingly told her everything about his feelings for Cassie. The reason was simple: it is one of the fundamental truths of human nature that there’s only so much keeping of a secret a person can do before it comes out of its own accord. Russell had been aware for some time that he was reaching maximum secret-keeping capacity so it came down to a choice of either telling Angie his true feelings about Cassie and learning to live with the consequences or telling Cassie about his true feelings, thereby ensuring that neither she nor his brother Luke ever spoke to him again. So basically it was tell his best friend or end up being cast out by his family. It wasn’t a decision that took him a long time to make.

  A few weeks later on one of his regular Friday nights out with Angie, the moment of truth arrived in the form of a slightly drunken rant from Angie very similar to the one that he had heard last night.

  ‘You do realise that this isn’t fair.’

  ‘What isn’t fair?’ asked Russell.

  ‘This,’ replied Angie, gesturing to the space between them. ‘You and me sitting here now doing what we always do. I spend the night bitching on about the stuff that’s wrong with my life and you get to come out with the words of wisdom that make it all right again. I hate it. It should be more equal. You know, a bit more give and take.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Russell.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Angie was obviously taken aback by this deviation from the usual script.

  ‘Fine, I’ll tell you about something that’s going on in my life where I could do with a bit of advice.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘So go on then,’ said Angie. ‘It’s not about you and that girl at work?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re not going to tell me you’re dying are you? That would put a real dampener on the evening.’

  ‘Thanks,’ laughed Russell. ‘It’s good to know that my untimely passing would mean so much to you.’

  ‘What is it? What’s the big problem?’

  ‘It’s me,’ he began awkwardly. ‘I’m the big problem . . . I think I’m in love with Cassie.’

  Angie had pulled a horrified face and put her hands up to her mouth as though she was watching a car crash. ‘You mean Cassie, Luke’s stick insect of a girlfriend?’

  ‘Yup,’ replied Russell looking sheepish.

  Angie smiled. ‘I didn’t even know she was your type. I thought you liked them a bit chunky like me. Is this something new?’

  ‘Nope. I think I’ve loved her since the day I met her.’

  ‘And that was when exactly?’

  ‘About half an hour after Luke met her.’

  ‘And you really do love her?’

&nbs
p; ‘Insofar as you can love someone without them loving you back, I’d say yeah.’

  Angie had reached across the table and held Russell’s hands. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘There isn’t much to say really.’

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘I guess it’s just one of those things.’ He proceeded to tell the story of how he had been out in the Jockey with some mates when he’d got the text from Luke.

  Although he had guessed that the text was designed to help his brother out with a member of the opposite sex Russell had imagined that the girl in question must be the kind of average-looking office worker who wouldn’t hold even the slightest bit of interest for him and so he had been more than a little bit surprised to find that Luke was in fact in conversation with a girl with a cute face, and great style. The fact that she was so held in Luke’s gravitational pull as to barely give him the time of day was neither here nor there. As far as he was concerned there must have been some kind of tear in the time space continuum so frequently referred to in sci-fi programmes that had resulted in his future girlfriend being handed to the wrong Bachelor brother and Luke pretending that he didn’t know him simply rubbed salt into the wound.

  A week later when Russell discovered that Luke was going on a second date with Cassie he found himself hoping for one of two things: for his brother to get bored of Cassie as quickly as humanly possible or for a miracle. He was out of luck on both counts as it turned out that Cassie was as clever as she was beautiful and even he could see that there was no way Luke was going to let her go. Russell had no choice but to stand by the wayside while Cassie and his brother fell in love. When they eventually moved in together (roughly six months after first meeting) Russell hoped he would finally be able to move on but it had never happened.

  ‘So that’s why you turned down that girl with the overplucked eyebrows who was sniffing around you at Liane’s party last month?’

  Russell nodded.

  ‘And why you didn’t make a move on that girl at work who’s always trying to get you to go to the cinema with her.’

  He nodded again.

  ‘And I’m guessing that explains why you turned down my friend Katie when we all went out for my birthday even though she is obviously not the kind of girl who ever gets turned down by anyone?’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ laughed Russell. ‘It’s not like I’m a monk or anything. I did consider it.’

  ‘But you didn’t do anything.’

  ‘I wanted to but I couldn’t. It would have felt too weird. Like I was cheating on Cassie.’

  ‘But you weren’t going out with Cassie!’

  ‘I know.’

  There was a long pause. Then Angie said: ‘You know you can’t carry on like this, don’t you?’

  ‘I know,’ said Russell. ‘I’ve got to sort myself out. I’ve got to make a change.’

  Nothing did change though. In fact things stayed exactly the same.

  ‘He’s been here half an hour if that and not lifted a finger!’

  It was midday and Adam was standing in the hallway of 44 Woodford Road soaking up all the familiar sights, sounds and smells. This was the best thing about his parents’ home: the fact that nothing changed. The wallpaper which his mum was always threatening to rip down because it looked so dated; the family phone book with the fake telephone dial on the front cover that sat on what was always known as ‘the telephone stool’; the dark wooden wall clock that ticked so loudly it sounded like the noise was actually coming from inside your head; the one and only official Bachelor family portrait (taken two days shy of Adam’s tenth birthday) featuring a middle-aged-looking Mum and Dad in their smartest outfits with the boys positioned in front of them in descending order; to Adam’s eyes all of these items represented the very essence of the Bachelor family home.

  There was something special about this place that kept drawing the three brothers back to the extent that they were now that most rare of filial formations: a family where none of its members lived further than twenty minutes away from the other.

  Adam headed to the kitchen to find the comfortingly familiar sight of his mum standing by the sink shaking the water off a colander full of new potatoes. He walked over and gave her a big squeeze from behind followed by a peck on the cheek. ‘And how’s the most beautiful woman in all the world on this bright and sunny summer afternoon?’

  ‘You’ve decided to come then?’ reprimanded Mum, unimpressed by his charm. ‘When was it I called you? Wednesday? And you didn’t get back to me.’

  Adam flashed his best butter-wouldn’t-melt grin. ‘I was busy, Mum. You know how it is when things get busy down at the bar. But you should also know that if it’s Sunday and there’s food on the table I’ll be here.’ He picked up a recently washed strawberry from a dish on the counter and dropped it into his mouth before she could smack his hand away. ‘Anyway,’ he said cheerily, ‘how come I don’t get any points for being the first one of your strapping young sons to be here?’

  ‘Well there’s plenty to do,’ she said, pushing Adam away from her in a no-nonsense fashion. ‘The table needs setting and the glasses need getting out of the cupboard and giving a good clean. I don’t want Cassie thinking that Luke doesn’t come from a good family.’

  Adam considered pointing out that Cassie had been coming to the Bachelors’ for Sunday dinner for long enough now that any thoughts she might have on whether or not the Bachelors were a good family would have long since crystallised, but he chose to bite his tongue.

  ‘I’m on the case, Mum,’ said Adam, opening up the drawer where the ‘good’ cutlery lived. ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘Where do you think?’

  ‘Why do you always answer a question with a question?’

  ‘Why do you always ask questions that you already know the answer to?’

  ‘Because that’s my role in the family. I ask questions to which I already know the answer, Luke’s your man for fixing stuff and Russ . . . well, Russ is just Russ, isn’t he?’ Adam peered through the kitchen window and spied Dad mowing the back lawn. Spotting an opportunity to leave the setting of the table to one of his less wily siblings Adam closed the cutlery drawer and announced that he really ought to go and say hello to his dad. Mum just shook her head and carried on with the potatoes.

  ‘All right, son?’ said Dad, turning off the lawn mower as Adam approached. ‘Is it lunchtime already? I haven’t got my watch on.’

  Adam placed an affectionate hand on his father’s shoulder. ‘Nah, Dad, it’s not lunchtime yet. I’m just early.’ Adam paused to take in his father’s gardening outfit: a blue shirt with the sleeves folded up, brown corduroy trousers and wellington boots. It was the same gardening outfit that he had been wearing for as long as Adam could remember and he was touched by his dad’s constancy. Adam looked around at the lawn admiringly. ‘How’s the gardening going, Pop? Looks like you’re doing a cracking job on it.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve got the energy for it these days. I don’t mind so much when it’s warm like this but give me a single drop of rain or have it a bit too cold and do you know what? I lose all interest.’

  ‘You should get Russ down here doing all the donkey work. It’s the least he can do after you paid his way through university. Three years multiplied by however much you used to send him every month? That’s got to be worth a bit of weeding surely?’

  ‘I’m fine with the gardening, thank you very much. And as far as I’m concerned Russell’s education was worth every penny. It’s not too late for you, you know. What are you? Thirty-six? Thirty-seven? Still plenty of time to get a degree.’

  ‘I’m fine without one, thanks. I’ve got the bar; I’ve no use for a degree. And for future reference, Dad, I’m thirty-eight.’

  ‘Time certainly is flying,’ said George. ‘I know you’re thirty-eight, son. How could I forget? The day you were born was one of the proudest days of my life.’

  The two men stood talking for a good twenty min
utes or so before George indicated that he wanted to finish off the garden before lunch. Back inside the house Adam was instructed to wash his hands but before he reached the sink Cassie and Luke appeared in the kitchen and within seconds the room was filled with raucous laughter.

  ‘So you’ve finally turned up,’ said Adam. ‘Some of us have been helping out with the preparations for quite some time, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Luke,’ said Mum, batting Adam across the back of his head with her hand. ‘He’s been here half an hour if that and not lifted a finger!’

  ‘Did you see that act of child cruelty, Cass!’ said Adam rubbing the back of his head. ‘A mother beating her poor son just for pointing out the truth?’

  ‘I’m sure she had her reasons,’ said Cassie. ‘Anyway you, where’s my hug?’

  Adam gave her a big squeeze. He had always liked Cassie. His favourite way to describe her to people who had never met her was: ‘She’s like a real proper girlie but without all the nonsense that goes with it’, and people knew exactly what he meant. As far as Adam was concerned Cassie was one of the best things that had ever happened to his brother and despite his mum’s best efforts to treat her like a guest he considered Cassie to be a fully paid-up member of the Bachelors in all but name.

  As Luke chatted to their mum Adam caught up with Cassie’s news about work and life and found himself mulling over his friend’s comments from the night before about ‘the right kind of girl’. Cassie was definitely the right kind of girl, the kind you’d want to spend your life with if you were that way inclined and yet Adam couldn’t really see himself with someone like Cassie. Perhaps finding the right kind of girl was going to be a lot harder than he’d initially thought.