The Wedding Countdown by Ruth Saberton Page B

supermarket, but not before I’ve noticed all the young people wandering around with baskets and surreptitiously checking each other out over the groceries. Success!
    Once I’ve called Eve I sit on the wall outside the store and enjoy the warmth of the evening sun. The sky above the rooftops is streaked with pink; the clouds are all golden and rosy. Is it just my imagination, or does everything suddenly look really romantic?
    I pull Dawud’s card from my bag and study it thoughtfully.
    A great story for GupShup and the telephone number of a suitable man.
    Even though I’ll have to leave my name off the article so my parents don’t die of shame I feel a delicious ripple of excitement. My life is moving in exactly the direction that I’d hoped it would.
    I am so glad I moved to London.
     

Chapter 13
    ‘Amelia Ali in my office, now!’
    Nina’s order is followed by a hacking cough, which spoils the effect somewhat.
    ‘Oh dear,’ says Raj, who is sitting next to me and playing around with page layouts for my latest article on, you’ve guessed it, dating. ‘Sounds as though the boss is coming down with the office flu. Maybe you should put a mask on before you go in there?’
    I grab a pen and notebook. ‘I’ll take my chances.’
    ‘Your choice, angel.’ Raj returns to Photoshopping a picture, amusing himself by stretching the subject’s nose to elephantine proportions. ‘We’ll paint a red cross on the door once you’re inside.’
    Ignoring him, I make my way to my boss’s office. Normally the newsroom is so crowded I have to shove my way through, so it’s an indication of just how bad this flu is that my path is unhindered. In the corner Kareena sniffles into a hankie; Nish is mainlining Lemsip at home and even the two senior reporters have called in sick. The place is decimated.
    ‘Enter.’ Nina splutters when I knock on the door.
    After a month of working at GupShup I’m no longer terrified of Nina but I still have a very healthy respect for my boss. Fortunately I’m in her good books because of the success of our supermarket-dating feature. Circulation was up over twenty-five percent, so Nina wasn’t at all put out we’d rashly promised a mini break as a prize. The entire desi community is talking about supermarket dating and even the big radio stations like Heart FM and Capital Radio have been discussing our article. Nina’s made appearances on Loose Women and This Morning to discuss the pitfalls of Asian dating, which has raised her profile no end and made her a very happy bunny. I think I even saw her lips twitch.
    I’m just pleased to have got a good story from it, even if the story has turned out to be a hilarious collage of close encounters of the supermarket kind rather than a serious reportage about Asian dating. I wish I could have written more about my own involvement but I couldn’t risk it. Mummy- ji would have had to buy every copy in Yorkshire and burn them in order to preserve our izzat. Going incognito might save the Ali family name but it isn’t doing much for getting me noticed.
    Sheesh! I bet Julie Burchill never has this problem.
    I’m expecting Nina to talk about the follow-on piece from the supermarket-dating feature. There are a few romances in the making as a result and it would be kind of fun to do something on them. One of them could even be mine, though it’s early days yet. I’ve chatted to Dawud on the phone and although we’ve yet to meet we text most days. Who knows, I may even dial his number and he’ll turn out to be the love of my life, and we’ll tell our children all about how we met...
    Calm down saheli ! You’ve only met the guy once.
    ‘Right.’ Nina’s brisk tone snaps me back to the present. ‘As you know I’ve been impressed with your work but it’s all been lightweight stuff so far. Do you think you could handle something more sensitive?’
    ‘Of course!’
    ‘I agree,’ says Nina. ‘Irfan and Sunny are off sick and you’re the only