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and squeezed her knee.  “And who knows?  Maybe Gavan is your very own Mr. Right.   He could be it.   The One. ”
    They both laughed.
    “I doubt it somehow,” Christine stood up.  “But just in case he is, we’d better not be late for our first date.  Come on, girl.  Shake your tushy.”
     
    ~
     
    The evening went surprisingly well.  Gavan seemed suitably embarrassed to be on a set-up date and when Christine confided that she had Googled him before agreeing to meet him, he laughed.
    “How modern .  I hope you didn’t Google my father to see what he does for a living.  That would have been very twentieth century of you.”
    “I didn’t know his name.”  She looked at him deadpan.  “But what does he do?”
    “He’s a sex therapist.”
    Christine almost spat out her mouthful of wine.  “Are you serious?” she choked.
    “No,” said Gavan .  “He’s an architect .”
     
     
    The restaurant started to empty out after midnight.  When the staff began to sweep the floor around them, they thought they had better go.  It was testament to the fun they’d had that none of them was keen to leave.  Christine could feel Gavan ’s arm draped around the back of her chair, his body leaning in towards her as he debated some rugby score wi th Jack diagonally opposite him at the table.  She knew that he was letting her know that he was interested, and she liked that he wasn’t being too presumptuous.  Her head was pleasantly fuzzy from the three big glasses of red that she had managed to finish.  She felt her toes being stepped on, and she looked over at Emily who was sitting back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin on her face.  Emily flicked her eyes over at Gavan , and winked at Christine.  She too had drunk the most part of a bottle of wine, and was being less discreet than she thought.  Christine stamped her back, glaring.
    “Ow!”  The boys looked up and Emily recovered herself.  “Well gu ys.  Should we go?”
    The waiter who had been hovering nearby took his opportunity and dived at the table with a small dish containing four mints and the bill.  Gavan took it immediately. 
    “Let me.”  He glanced at Jack.
    “No, Gavan .”  Christine lifted her bag.  “We’ll split it.”
    “Please.”  He looked straight at her.  “I’ve had a great night.  I’d really like to get this.  Maybe,” he handed the dish back to the waiter who didn’t care who paid as long as he could finish cleaning and go home.  “Maybe we can do this again soon?  And you can get the next one.  Promise.”
    Christine felt her cheeks redden.  She liked that Gavan wanted to pay.  She liked that he obviously wanted to see her again.  And she liked that he clearly didn’t want Jack and Emily to accompany them the next time. 
    “Thanks Gav .”  Emily stood and Jack helped her with her jacket.  “Next time we should meet at Christine’s place.  We were just discussing earlier how it would be fun to have you guys there for food some evening.  It’s got a great balcony overlooking the bay.”
    “Great!”  Christine swatted her friend.  “Or you could invite us over to your place?  Or do your parents let you have friends over?”
    “Ugh, don’t.”  Emily looked at Gavan .  “It’s just temporary, Gavan .  I’m not actually living with my parents.  My lease was up, and my flatmate was moving to London, so I’m just back home until I find someone to share with.  My best friend,” she turned to Christine, “won’t share with me.  So I’m doomed to trawling through the personals until I find someone who does want to live with me.  Hopefully, they won’t turn out to be a serial axe-murderer.”  She smiled.  “I’d hate Christine to have that on her conscience.”
    “Maybe you’ll find someone else you know who’s looking for a flatmate.”  Jack was obviously trying to be nonchalant but failing badly thanks to the chianti.  Emily looked at him and her cheeks