Read Online Bella Summer Takes a Chance by Michele Gorman - Free Book Online

ended it with The Teacher.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. He sounded like a good one.’
    Faith shook her head, pronouncing, ‘Smelly feet.’
    ‘But maybe–’ My look cut Clare off. ‘Oh, I see. Well, better luck next time.’
    ‘I’m not in the mood for next time.’ She sighed, shaking her head. ‘I think I need a break.’
    It may have seemed a small statement but I was stunned. Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, knocked for six, at a loss for words. This was Faith. Optimistic, glass-spilling-over-on-the-table Faith. She was never, ne-ver, tired of dating. It was her RoboDate tenacity that gave the rest of womankind the fortitude to go on. If she had doubts, what chance did the rest of us have? ‘Faith, you don’t mean that.’ Clare looked as if she’d just learned that her Manolos really came from Marks & Spencer.
    ‘I don’t know,’ Faith continued. ‘I suppose there are perfect couples out there. Look at Kat and James. They’re going strong. But the men I meet are all so fatally flawed.’
    Clare and I traded glances. We were treading in a minefield. How did you tell your best friend that she was perhaps a tad stringent in her judgements without hurting her, or making her feel even worse? Anyone could see she was a commitmentphobe. Anyone but Faith. It was a subject to approach again when she was happily in a relationship, not in the midst of self-doubt. Unfortunately, it was a bit like buying light bulbs. The only time you thought to do it was when you’d just cracked your shin in the dark. Clare eyed me pointedly. She was right. It was not the time to detonate those bombs. Mental note: home truths for Faith the next time she was coupled up.
    ‘Faith, we completely understand your frustration. But like you said, Kat found James. I found Mattias. Even though he’s not right for me, he’s not flawed. He’s right for lots of other women. So the good ones are out there. And you don’t have the problem that most women have.’ I paused for effect. ‘Think about your history. How many times have you been broken up with? Right, hardly ever. It’s not as though you’re finding Mister Right and he doesn’t want to be your mister. You’re just, em, pickier than most women, that’s all.’
    ‘She’s right,’ nodded Clare. ‘Look at how many times I’ve been dumped. I’m almost always on the receiving end. It’s pathetic, really.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I mean, the most stable relationship I’ve ever had is with a man I call late at night for sex. It’s really very depressing.’
    The conversation was going downhill fast. ‘Oh no, not you too, Clare. This is a temporary knock-back, Faith. So The Teacher wasn’t right for you. Maybe the next man will be. And Clare, I’m sorry but I can’t take your moaning seriously when you’ve got The Shag.’
    Clare, the lucky cow, had a shag buddy. He was the ideal man-in-waiting, the one who was fun, clothed or naked, and welcomed late-night booty calls with no expectations about staying for breakfast. We all envied her, but it was terrible in the early days when she wanted The Shag as a boyfriend. He’d sweep her off her feet, then neglect to be faithful beyond the weekend. We spent those years in emergency disaster relief, plying our friend with Häagen-Dazs and warnings against her destructive habit. She’d wean herself off him, but always give in to the craving. ‘I’m strong enough to handle it,’ she’d say. ‘Just the one time won’t hurt.’ So they’d get together. They’d shag. They’d part. She’d plan. He’d dodge. She’d cry, recover, repeat.
    She finally had an epiphany during a wedding reception, compliments of an aged widow. She’d wheedled Clare’s entire sorry story out of her by the time they’d finished their starters, as only old people could do without you hating them. At the end of Clare’s explanation the wrinkled moral compass asked, ‘Well, if he’s so wonderful, dear, why is he behaving like a