Chapter 7

After that episode Hank was most reluctant to chance his arm again. He kept hoping that Barbara might relent on marriage but it was quite clear that she was not going to. She was happy with her independence. A half hour chat with Hank on the phone and their semi-regular nights or weekends of lovemaking were sufficient for her. That had been what she said she wanted in the first place, he reflected, except that they had become very close friends. He wondered whether he ought to resign himself to singledom. There was a lot to be said for it but he still missed that companionship and, when he thought more deeply about it, the need to give of himself to somebody who would give back so that both their lives would be enhanced.

"Become a Samaritan," said a voice in his head.

"No," he answered. "It's one way and I couldn't take constant unhappiness and desperation."

"They'd train you."

"No. I talked to a woman in Citizens' Advice who said she started taking home problems and agonising over them. She was trained but she had to give it up."

"You had men under your command killed or wounded."

"Yes but that was rare. Even so, all those casualties still live with me."

"So you not only want but need a wife."

"Yes."

"Well get on with it and stop faffing about."

"Wives don't grow on trees."

"So look for one."

"Fat lot of good that's done me."

"So far. 'If at first you don't succeed try, try, try again'."

Hank smiled ruefully to himself. He would talk to Barbara about it.

He did so, telling her all about his internal wrestling and his doubts about dating agencies.

"Hank, sweetie, how did you meet Anne?"

"At a dance."

"By chance?"

"Yes."

"So why should you think that you can pick up the girl of your dreams except by chance?"

"So are you saying I should sit back and wait for one to drop into my lap?"

"No. As a young man you went to dances in the hope that you'd meet girls. No, no, don't interrupt. You weren't even contemplating marriage. You probably weren't, knowing you, even trying to bed one. A bit of kissing or cuddling possibly but really it was a question of getting to know and understand these strange creatures who didn't play rugger or cricket but were rather interesting."

Hank chuckled recalling his naiveté. "Just about spot on," he said.

"Right! So now you're a bit more experienced: two girls in your life, Anne and me."

Hank looked perplexed. "What are you getting at?" he asked. "I've met scores of women."

Barbara smiled lovingly at him. "And how many have you really got to know? Wait! Lots, you'll say, but none with whom there might have been a relationship because you were married."

Hank nodded reluctantly. "There were a few that I thought I might have snaffled up if they or we weren't married."

"Wishful thinking and pretty temporary, I'll bet."

"Yes."

"So what I'm saying still stands."

"What?"

"That you meet the girl of your dreams by chance."

"We're back to square one."

"No, we're not because you're now so experienced." She grinned.

"You've just told me I'm not."

"But, even when you were happily married you sussed out other women."

"Well, only in passing."

"Sure but you did."

Hank nodded. "I suppose so."

"Suppose," snorted Barbara. "Look, you are still only going to meet the right woman by chance."

Hank nodded.

"You have already turned down two (or is it three? I can't keep count) because you are that much more experienced. At least if you use an agency you have a chance of dismissing those who don't fit even before you meet them."

She sniggered. "The tattooed lady fooled you. She'll probably be on at the Mop Fair in Marlborough next Autumn."

Hank growled but also smiled.

"So, my sweet, don't get cold feet but try the internet instead. I've no idea but you may find it's more versatile than the papers. Whatever, you'll still only meet your future wife by chance but using an agency does narrow the odds."

Hank looked at her. "It may take you a long time to get to the point..."

"I'm a woman."

"Shush! But you do make sense."

Barbara smiled sweetly.

"You bloody woman!"

"Yup!"

So Hank enrolled with an internet dating agency. He had to give quite a lot of information about himself and then started to receive quite a number of emails. Some were quite clearly non-starters; either because they did not match the criteria he had given or because they could not spell which also meant the former because he had stipulated 'intelligent and educated'.