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add to those of Vernie, Charlie and my mother.
    “So that’s why you’ve been moping round the flat like a lovesick teenager,” he said after I filled him in on the details of The Proposal. “You told me she’d gone on a course for work.”
    “Yeah, well, I lied,” I confessed. “The thing is, what do I do now?”
    “I’ll tell you what to do,” he said, switching channels with the remote. “
Do
nothing. Take it from me, there’s no way she’s going to dump you just because you don’t want to get married. You’ve been with her what . . . three years?”
    “Four years,” I admitted.
    “Four years! You’re practically Mr. and Mrs. anyway. My advice—keep your head down and wait for it all to blow over.”
    I liked the sound of that. “Pretend it didn’t happen?”
    “Exactly. Head in the sand, mate. It was most likely just one of those moments that’s best forgotten. She’s probably embarrassed she even mentioned it to you. I bet you that’s why she hasn’t called.”
    I gave his advice the consideration it deserved. Ignoring this whole thing in the hope that it might go away was an extremely attractive proposition—neither of us had to lose face and we could go on with life as it was before.
    “Are you sure?” I asked.
    “Of course I’m sure,” he said confidently. “Listen, Duffy, it’s like this: Mel’s invested three—”
    “Four,” I corrected.
    “All right, four years of her life with you. She’s got you pretty much well trained. Think how long it would take her to get another bloke to your level of obedience.”
    “So you’re saying she’s not going to dump me because she’s too lazy to train someone else?”
    “Sort of.”
    “Thing is . . .” I began.
    “Don’t tell me that you’re actually considering getting married.” Dan shook his head in disbelief. “Have I taught you nothing? Did I not teach you The Ways of the Bachelor? And now you want to go over to the dark side? I can’t believe you. I forgave you for that regular girlfriend thing because, well, it was quaint. But getting married? This is definitely one of your worst ideas. It’ll be the end of life as you know it. Everything changes.” He looked over at Meena’s invitation on the bookcase. “Me and Meena would’ve ended up getting married. Now what kind of mistake would that have been?”
    Dan was depressing me beyond belief. “Cheers, Yoda,” I said curtly. “I’ll sort it out myself.”
    I stood up, picked up the remote control from the arm of the sofa Dan was sitting on, and returned to my seat, flicking through the channels erratically while I shoveled huge forkfuls of my now cold pasta dinner into my mouth.
    This was the closest Dan and I had ever come to an argument. He must have felt bad about it too, because he left the room and returned minutes later with a maxi pack of Skips and two cans of Red Stripe as a peace offering. Tearing open the bag he placed it carefully on the carpet between us and handed me a Red Stripe while he searched for the video remote control. “Forget the crappy pasta and forget Mel for the minute. Eat Skips, drink beer, watch telly and stop thinking,” he said sagely. “Thinking isn’t good for either of us.”

Even Nosferatu seemed
to be smiling
    I t was now nine days since I’d last seen or heard from Mel. The advice of my mum, sister, brother-in-law and flatmate had been rattling around my head for days without having any effect on me other than giving me a headache. I couldn’t escape the feeling that at the age of twenty-eight the answer to my predicament really should’ve come from inside me and not from friends and relatives. Which is why, I decided, that even though I still wasn’t sure how I felt about marriage, it was time for Mel and me to talk and come up with a solution that we could both live with.
    “Oh, it’s you.”
    It was Julie who answered the door to Mel’s flat. She was the only person in the world who could make “Oh, it’s