‘Not with Bradley and not with Will either,’ Kate said firmly.
‘So you and him are history?’ Ken asked.
‘Not even that, since we neverwerein the first place.’
‘What about the time you shagged him?’ Freddie enquired.
Kate shook her head. ‘One drunken shag doth not a Summer of Lurve make. Anyway,’ she added, more brightly, ‘none of that matters now. I love Brian.’
‘Well, I think you’re settling.’
‘I’m not. You just don’t like Brian.’
‘I don’tdislike him,’ Freddie prevaricated.
‘Yeah, you do.’
‘Okay, I admit I’m not his biggest fan, but it’s not that. You may love Brian, but Will is theone.’
‘Like Keanu Reeves inThe Matrix,’ Ken added.
‘Mmm.’ Freddie was momentarily distracted by the thought of Keanu Reeves. ‘Will is the love of your life,’ he continued, returning to the subject at hand. ‘He’s Neo, he’s Mr Big, he’s Heathcliff. Life’s too short to settle for less. You’ve got to go after what you want.’
‘I am. I’m going after Brian.’
Freddie sighed in exasperation.
‘Maybe I can resolve this,’ Ken suggested. ‘I have a system for working out who’s the better prospect when you have to choose between two people.’
‘Sounds great!’ Freddie said. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘But I’m not choosing between them,’ Kate said. ‘Will isn’t a possibility.’
‘Well, nine times out of ten the one you’re choosing anyway comes out on top, so it reassures you that you’re making the right decision.’
Kate was dubious.
‘Come on,’ Ken coaxed her. ‘At least you can prove to Freddie that you’re not settling.’
* * *
Of course,Kate thought dejectedly twenty minutes later,thiswouldturn out to be the tenth time out of ten.
Ken had claimed it was a simple mathematical calculation. His ‘system’ consisted of dividing a sheet of paper in half, allocating one side to Will and the other to Brian. He then made each a ‘pro’ and a ‘con’ column, arbitrarily awarding points from one to ten for positive attributes and deducting them for negative ones. ‘Add up the scores at the end and you have your answer,’ he had concluded.
‘For example, a cool job gets ten points. Will has about the coolest job in the world, short of actually being in a band. Plus, he’s loaded, so that’s another ten points. Now, what does your boyfriend do?’
‘He’s a psychotherapist.’
‘Not as cool as manager of a band, but pretty lucrative,’ Ken decided.
‘Not the wayhedoes it,’ Freddie cut in, as Ken’s pen was poised over Brian’s ‘pro’ column.
‘How does he do it?’
‘With Tibetan singing bowls and dancing.’
‘Ah!’ Ken promptly crossed out ‘psychotherapist’ in the ‘pro’ column and wrote ‘space cadet’ on the ‘con’ side. ‘Band manager,dix points,’ he said, in a fake Eurovision accent, ‘professional hippie,nul points.’
