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‘He freaked out.’ I eye up the fruit bowl again. ‘Especially when I needed a cane. I think my illness made him feel … old. Trapped.’

‘Because he’s a child,’ Freddy snaps. ‘We don’t have time for man-child nonsense. We need fully formed. Block him.’

‘Okay, fine.’ I pull out my phone and find Chris’s contact card, finger hovering over the word ‘block’. ‘And you’re sure I have toblockhim?’

‘Yes,’ Freddy barks.

I press block, feeling both sick and strangely relieved.

‘Good work, darling.’ Freddy pats my shoulder. ‘Now, let’s talk about all the massive mistakes you’ve been making in your quest for a partner.’ He turns to the giant screen and lifts a presentation pointer. ‘Hold on tight, Katerina. Because this is going to hurt.’

CHAPTER13

Freddy spent most of the weekend putting together Kat’s presentation. It is both brutal and compelling: the perfect combination. As Freddy clicks a presentation pointer, unpleasant words appear on the TV screen:

Spongers

Men still living at home and looking for a mother figure

Drunks

Men who don’t work.

Divorced men who are still in love with their ex-wives.

Freddy notes Kat’s horrified face and offers an explanation: ‘These are your current consumers. As you can see, you are not attracting good marriage prospects.’

‘Oh god.’ Kat’s eyes race over the words. ‘These are the men I’m attracting?’

‘Can you think of anyone you’ve dated who doesn’t fit these descriptions?’

Kat’s left eye begins to twitch. ‘No.’

‘So that needs to change.’ Freddy removes a Salt Marketing notepad from his man bag. ‘You need to attract mature, professional men who are in the market for marriage. Men who are loyal and responsible. Capable of supporting you and a family.’

‘I don’t need support –’

‘Of course you do. Everyone does. You will support your husband, and he will support you. And to achieve this, we need a total rebrand. You, Katerina Friedman, are an intelligent, successful career woman. The trouble is, the world doesn’t know it. Tell me something. How long has it been since you bought new clothes?’

Kat looks down at her strange, mismatched ensemble of baggy Smiths t-shirt and ethnic-print pantaloons. ‘Um … look, it’s important to know we do casual MondaysandFridays at my office. And sometimes Wednesdays and Thursdays too, if we’ve had a difficult week. I have smarter clothes –’

‘Yes, I’ve seen your smarter clothes. At Chris’s wedding, right?’

‘Yes! I’m glad you noticed.’

‘How could I not? You looked like you’d dressed from a charity shop bargain bin.’

Kat’s lips pull together. ‘What’s wrong with charity shops?’

‘Nothing if you style it right. But you didn’t style it right. You looked like you’d dressed with the lights off and the curtains drawn.’

Kat gives a shocked gasp. ‘How did you know I did that?’

‘You still haven’t answered my question. When was the last time you bought new clothes?’

‘Well.’ Kat frowns. ‘I suppose … when we first got an office in East London, I did a big supermarket shop for work clothes. So … ten years?’

‘Tenyears? What about shoes?’