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revelation.’
    ‘I’m just trying to help out.’
    ‘By
arranging
a set-up with a guy who I have absolutely no interest in?’
    He shrugs his shoulders. ‘Okay, forget Marco. I’ll let him know he’s off limits to you. He’s not Muslim, therefore he’s out of the question.’
    ‘Would you please just drop the subject?’ I say, turning back to face the computer as a signal that the conversation is over.
    ‘Fine,’ he says, standing up. He switches to the tone he uses when he decides to ditch the nice-guy act and play the part of boss. ‘I’d appreciate it if you tried to make an appearance on Friday. You’re one of my senior staff. It says a lot to have you there.’
    Oh boy.
    ‘Yeah, okay, I’ll make an appearance,’ I mumble. Needless to say, contrary to Danny’s reassurances all week, Friday night is most definitely all about setting me up with Marco. It makes my skin crawl to think of Danny trying to hook me up with his friend. Marco’s thirty-five and works in IT. He doesn’t even work with us. His ‘What brings you here?’ is about as plausible as the toupee on the old guy standing to my right, who is quite clearly suffering a late midlife crisis judging by the barely pubescent girl hanging off his arm.
    I’ve been here half an hour and I’m sitting at a table with Danny; needs-to-go-easy-on-the-gel Marco; Kristy (in la-la land given it’s her last day and she’s leaving to backpack across America for six months); Veronica, our care of the elderly recruiter (oozes coolness); Kylie, another pharmacy recruiter (also cool); Dora, our accounts payable (torturous silences in the lifts); and Simon, our IT guy (the office gossip). The rest of the team is at the bar.
    We’re all having a laugh with Kristy, making fun of her plan to find herself an American boyfriend and settle down in the US.
    ‘So will
any
American male do?’ Danny asks.
    ‘Well,’ she replies, ‘he can’t have a criminal conviction, he can’t be a bum and he can’t be a Republican.’
    ‘So you’re not picky then?’ Veronica says.
    Kristy smiles. ‘As an illegal immigrant I’ve got fat chance of hooking up with a Republican, don’t I? I’ll take my chances with a Democrat. But for what it’s worth, I’m a donkey voter anyway, so ideology has nothing to do with it.’
    ‘You’re a donkey voter too!’ cries Simon and they give each other a high five.
    ‘Marco’s been to the States, haven’t you, Marco?’ Danny says.
    ‘Yeah, I travelled there in my gap year and I go there for work every now and then.’ Marco smiles at me. ‘It’s a great place.’
    ‘Marco’s been to Turkey too, haven’t you?’ Danny adds as he takes a handful of peanuts and shoves them into his mouth.
    I want to burst out laughing. Even the busybody matchmaking aunties I know are more suave than this.
    ‘Yeah, I have,’ Marco answers enthusiastically. ‘Turkey’s probably my all-time favourite country. The people are so friendly and the food was awesome!’
    I actually feel sorry for him. It isn’t his fault. Danny probably told him I have the hots for him. Why else would he consent to torturing himself by coming along to the farewell drinks of his friend’s employee?
    Danny and Marco are looking at me. There’s an obvious expectation I’ll respond with something like, ‘Oh wow, you’ve been to Turkey! What a coincidence. My parents were born in Turkey! That means we have so much in common and the foundation for a lasting relationship! That you found the people there friendly only serves to reinforce that we were made for each other, seeing as a) I’m of Turkish origin
and
b) I’m friendly! And to make things even more serendipitous, you loved the food! Well, guess what? I can cook! So, will you have my babies?’
    It’s tempting. But I don’t. Instead, I say, ‘I got gastro when I was in Turkey.’
    Veronica squeezes my thigh under the table, fighting back laughter. Danny coughs but I get a short, unsure laugh out of