All Chapters of Always Finding Mr Wrong: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Scott isn’t the type of customer that the award winning and terrifyingly on trend salon GQ is used to. Even I feel intimidated, and unlike Scott, I haven’t got hair that could be home to several endangered species of wild bugs. Everyone here looks so perfect that they must get up at the crack of dawn just to style themselves. I only make it two steps into the salon before I dig out my beanie hat and pull it on my head, making sure to tuck in any loose strands so nobody can see them. It isn’t even that cold outside, despite it being early February, and it’s even warmer in the salon. But without it on, I have a sudden fear that I may be mistaken for a homeless person. After spending the whole morning shopping, Dani and Katie have left Scott in my capable hands for this part of the process. We plan to regroup this evening. We’re shown to the back of the salon, where we sit and wait like obedient school children outside the headmistresses office. “Aww honey. There’s no point trying to

I’m due my routine visit home. And honestly, it never fails to amaze me how little their house has changed over the years. My mum might have replaced her curtain nets with Venetian blinds and what was once the mini bar is now a log burner, but the house still holds little trinkets from the past that I can’t comprehend when they haven’t been thrown out. There’s a limited edition Coronation Street ornamental plate, and some ugly figurine lady, and they even have some of their wedding gifts displayed. “Well hello stranger,” my mum says as I walk in. It’s been literally two days over my usual visit time and she acts like she’s forgotten who I am. As per usual my mums pottering about dusting and cleaning surfaces that are already clean enough to eat off. “What have you been up to? We haven’t seen you for a month,” she says. “It’s been nine days, mother. But I’ve been super busy at work, I had a make it or break it presentation and I think I’ve done well,” I tell her as I slump onto the

Apparently Scott was top of his class at school. But only he’s not as school now, and tonight as he perches on our sofa, his expression is confused. It’s clear to see that he isn’t following what’s going on. “Rule number one of flirting,” Dani voices loudly as she scribbles on the we made from some wallpaper over my artwork. “Is to feel good about yourself. Do you feel good about yourself Scott?”Scott takes the biggest gulp of wine I’ve ever seen. “Fine.”“Fine, Scott? Just fine?,” she’s like a drill sergeant addressing new recruits. “We don’t want you to feel just fine, we want you to feel amazing, hot, and like you’re on top of the world. Everybody loves being around a confident and charming person.” “You’ve got every reason to feel amazing Scott, you look great and you’re lovely,” adds Katie in an encouraging tone. “Keep reminding yourself what a wonderful person you are and also hit great you look. You’re handsome and intelligent. Think of all that, trust me if you walk into a

Dani was right about the lovely Ryan. He wasn’t that lovely. Or at least he wasn’t lovely enough to stick with Katie. I can tell that she has been dumped, the moment she turned up at the house with red eyes and swollen features distinctive of a newly-ditched girlfriend. Fortunately, Scott is at one of his veteran meetings, so there’s only me to console her, which I can’t help thinking is a good thing. Scott might only be Scott, but he’s still a man and nobody wants a man around at a time like this. “I just can’t believe it,” she sniffs as she takes a shaky sip of her wine as we sit at the kitchen table, conducting a post-mortem of her relationship. “I honestly thought he was…” her voice trails off as she begins to cry again. “The one?” I offer. Poor Katie has told me five times already that she honestly thought he was the one. Her faces crumples as she blows into her tissue with the force of a hurricane. “Do you know what he said? He said I wasn’t exciting enough. What

To my credit, I don’t end up sleeping with Chris. I always knew I wouldn’t, but sometimes I surprise myself by how old-fashioned I am. Instead, when we get back to his house, the two guys he shares it with are competing with their girlfriends at Just Dance. Never missing an opportunity to crucify a dance track, we sing and dance until 3am. At least, I sing; Chris abstains coolly, which would make me feel self-conscious if I were sober. When the others disappear to bed, things get steamy again on the sofa. Look, I never said I was a complete angel.I reluctantly call it a night at 5:30am, determined to leave him wanting. This requires every bit of will power I can muster – a challenge given that my willpower is largely obliterated, along with my ability to walk or talk properly. I sometimes wonder how I would have coped in the nineteenth century when you had to wait until your wedding night before reaching the inner sanctum of your beloved’s trousers. Still, they didn’t have tequila s