Confessions of a Serial Dater by Michelle Cunnah Page A

memories,” I say quickly. Until this moment I’d forgotten….
    “You will get over him and move on,” he tells me, patting my arm. He’s never quite gotten over it, though, and has apparently given up on love forever. There have been a couple of guys since One True Love, but they fizzled out before they got going.
    “You hated him, didn’t you?” Jess, who, as usual, is still not quite up to speed with the conversation, slumps down on her stool, and we all lunge for our glasses as the table rocks. “I know Aster can be a bit…difficult at times, but he’s got a heart of gold. Truly.”
    “We weren’t talking about Hot Stuff over there,” Carmen says, glancing across to the bar, where Aster is chatting up two very attractive women. “Jonathan dumped Rosie yesterday. Via voice mail.”
    “Oh. Sorry, sorry, that’s terrible,” Jess says, also sniffling in sympathy. “I don’t know what I’d do if Aster broke up with me. I’d be heartbroken. Heartbroken,” she adds as Charlie hands her a tissue.
    “I wouldn’t,” Carmen mutters under her breath just for my ears, because Aster is getting very friendly with those two girls at the bar. He’s practically ignoring poor Jess.
    “You poor, heartbroken soul. ” Jess shakes her head.
    “Look on the bright side,” Flora adds in her stalwart voice. “There are more fish in the sea than ever were caught.”
    But I want the one that slipped off my hook.
    I know that Jonathan can be an idiot at times. And I know that I considered taking a break from him, but that was only my reaction to the Sidney thing and the Dr. Love thing…before I had time to put things in proper perspective.
    Since last night, I have run the gamut of all emotions as I flounder alternately from loving Jonathan, to hating him, and then remembering all those kind little things he did for me, like buying me shoes, and helping me with my French, and I get all gooey inside and close to tears.
    I didn’t mention the breakup to Mum and Granny Elsie over lunch. Mum spent the whole time rattling on aboutMrs. Henderson at number sixty-three, and how her daughter moved back with her after splitting with her live-in boyfriend, and how nice it was for Mrs. Henderson to have Her Shirley back home. So after that, I just couldn’t face Mum cross-examining me about what I did wrong this time.
    I don’t deliberately set out to sabotage my relationships…maybe I’m just not coupledom material, after all.
    “Well.” Charlie shakes his head, and we all sigh into our drinks and shake our heads as we fall into a morose silence. I certainly know how to kill ambience.
    “Did we all rock or wot?” Aster asks, swaggering over to our table. “Man, did we bring the house down, dontcha fink?” he says. “How about you, Vicar—wouldnta fought this was your cup of tea,” he says, sniggering as if he’s just told a really funny joke. “I would’ve fought that choirs singing hallelujah was more your cup of tea,” he sniggers even more.
    “Well, I’m a vicar of very eclectic musical taste,” Philip tells him solemnly. Aster, who has a small vocabulary that obviously doesn’t include the word eclectic, stares at him blankly for long moments before answering.
    “Sorry, Vicar, just can’t see you wiv an electric guitar.”
    And I wonder for the umpteenth time why Jess, who is intelligent, and kind, and rich, and pretty in an odd kind of way, has hooked up with Aster, who is ignorant, and not pretty, and squeezes her for money. At least I think he does.
    See, although I am devastated by Jonathan’s callous behavior, I am not quite so devastated that I can’t see my friends’ problems. But who knows what hidden depths Aster has? I suppose it’s all in the eyes of the beholder.
    “Er, quite,” Philip says, puzzled. “Very enthusiastic performance.” His eyes soften as he glances from Aster to Jess.
    “You were, um, unique,” I say, because they were loud and unmelodic, and Aster cannot carry a