A Brand New Me: The hilarious romantic comedy about one year of first dates. Shari Low

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СКАЧАТЬ down in a dark room until the magic mushrooms wear off.’

      ‘It’s a sign that we are on the right path,’ she continued.

      I was beginning to understand why her previous assistant had decided that the right path for her was the one that led to Heathrow Airport.

      I attempted an encouraging, receptive expression, one you might give to a four-year-old who’d just confided that her imaginary friend was having a quick shower before dinnertime.

      ‘So, Leni, are you absolutely sure that you want to work here?’

      Noooooooooo!

      So of course I said, ‘Definitely.’

      Look, it didn’t involve flushing, I’d broken the habits of a lifetime by actually getting this far, and it paid fifteen grand a year more than my current job. I’d already decided that as long as it didn’t involve sacrificing my firstborn child then I was taking the position.

      She sank back down onto her cushion and resumed the meditative position: her legs crossed, eyes closed and her fingers upturned on her knees, thumb and middle finger pressed together.

      ‘And you’re open to the new challenges and experiences that destiny will bring?’

      I nodded again, resisting the urge to make the atmosphere a little more dramatic by adding a ‘hmmm’.

      ‘Then welcome to our team. I’m delighted to have you here and I think we’ll work together in perfect harmony.’

      My higher self gave a silent cheer and embarked on a Mexican wave. I’d done it! Sure, it was bizarre and it was just a little bit terrifying, but the most important thing was that I was no longer facing a heady future in ballcocks. I was PA to Zara Delta. And so what if I didn’t know her rising moon from Saturn’s ring–I’d wing it somehow. After all, how tough could it be? I zipped all my doubts in a mental file, labelled it ‘This Job Makes No Bloody Sense Whatsoever’, filed it away and allowed myself a brief moment of self-congratulation–a month into the New Year and already I was on my way to fulfilling my resolution to change everything about my life. And, let’s face it, this was about as different as it could get.

      Zara opened her eyes and gave me a benevolent smile. Maybe working for her would be fine after all. Perhaps I was just a little overwhelmed by her eccentricities and idiosyncrasies and in a few weeks she’d seem perfectly normal.

      ‘Be here next Monday, six a.m., for Tai Chi, affirmations and a full briefing on your first assignment.’

      ‘Er…assignment?’

      ‘Yes. You will of course fulfil the normal role of a PA, and I expect you to be by my side on a daily basis. You’ll only be asked to work in the evenings if your presence is essential. But you do realise that your role also involves an element of practical research?’

      I didn’t. So, naturally, I nodded.

      ‘Can I ask, Zara, exactly what the research will involve?’

      ‘It’s quite simple, dear. My project for this year is to write a new, pioneering book on the relationships between men and women. There are so many lost little stars out there and it’s my calling to set them on the celestial journey that will lead them directly to their soul mate.’

      Aaaaw, she was like Cilla Black with mystic powers.

      ‘I believe that I’ve developed a new way of interpreting the signs using a combination of ancient Chinese philosophy, psychology, rune stones, mathematics, planetary alignment and the instinct and intuition that I was gifted at birth. And I’m going to use my methods to redefine and reinvent current dating techniques. Forget speed dating, forget all those matchmaking websites–I’m going to write a defining, ground-breaking, revolutionary guide to wooing a partner depending on his star sign.’

      I thought it probably wasn’t the time to enlighten her that Mills & Boon were on the phone asking if they could have the word ‘wooing’ back.

      A book on landing men depending on the date they were born? It was ridiculous. Trite. Insulting. Wasn’t the modern woman far more evolved than that? Didn’t we have principles, emotional intelligence and the savvy to find a partner based on like-mindedness, inherent compatibility and how great his abs were?

      I had a sudden insight as to why I was still single.

      ‘So what exactly will I need to do?’ I had a flashing premonition of endless, mind-numbing hours spent in libraries collating information on all the astrological traits and characteristics. I’d then deliver expansive reports to the divine Miss Delta so that she could harness the mighty investigative powers of solid research, an enquiring mind and moonbeams.

      ‘It’s simple, Leni. I need to hone and test my theories and include references to practical examples and real-life cases in my book. So, over the next few months, I need you to date twelve men, one from each of the signs of the conventional zodiac.’

      ‘Whaaaat?’

      My peachy-clean aura threw a major strop. No way! Forget it. I was not pimping myself out for some ludicrous, half-boiled book by a TV celebrity with a head like a neglected flower basket.

      ‘You will of course be paid extra for all evening work, and there will be a bonus on completion of each of the twelve studies. So–can I assume you accept the challenge?’

      I was outraged. I was insulted. But I was also skint, desperate to get out of plumbing and losing the feeling in my legs. So…

      ‘Hmmmm,’ I replied.

       2 Aligning the Planets

      ‘So?????’

      Their little faces were the epitome of expectation.

      ‘I got the job!’ I replied gleefully, joining in an exaggerated group hug thing that almost toppled them off their bar stools. They’d been waiting in the pretentious, overpriced wine bar around the corner from Zara’s office for the last two hours, so they were already struggling slightly with minor issues like balance and staying upright.

      ‘Told you she was desperate!’ Trish exclaimed helpfully.

      That’s the thing about Trish–I love and adore her but she went to the Joseph Stalin School of Friendship. She’s brutal, thoughtless, self-obsessed, and prone to dictatorial behaviour. However, unlike Mr Stalin she’s also funny, kind and, underneath the complete lack of compassionate social skills, she has her friends’ best interests at heart. We’ve known each other since our first day at college in London, when I bumped into her as she wandered along the corridor outside the catering department clutching a toffee pavlova (yes, the stains came out eventually). Surprisingly, given her truculent disposition, we’ve never fallen out, although that’s probably because I’m subconsciously aware that if I crossed her there’s every chance she would dismember me while I slept.

      The first thing that struck me (after the pavlova) about her was that she was so different from my group of friends back in the sleepy suburb of Norfolk where I grew up. In my little gang of middle-of-the-road, normal, everyday pals, not one of them had a navy-blue СКАЧАТЬ