How Nigel Found a Woman Who Cost Him Nothing. But He Didnt Like It.
“You see, Ive tried dating apps so many times, but its exhausting,” Nigel said. “Women expect messages, effort, typing until your fingers ache, listening to their tedious little dramas If I could skip all that, Id be chuffed. Couldnt she just pick me without the small talk, the rehearsed jokes from *Loaded*, or pretending to be clever?”
“Course you can,” shrugged the creature made of greasy grey smoke. “You summoned me, didnt you? Todays your lucky day.”
“Brilliant. One more thingI wont spend a penny on her. Not a quid. No overpriced coffee dates, no fancy dinners where Im left wondering if its even worth it. No shirts, no sucking in my gut, no pretending to be someone impressive. Straight to her flat. Can you manage that?”
The smoky figure produced a notepad and pen, jotting it down like an obliging waiter. “Whatever you fancy. Anything else?”
“Well, obviously no demands for gifts. No iPhones, no diamonds, no designer handbags. Ive heard the horror stories. Just pure, selfless loveno gold-digging, like those lovely Continental girls. Abroad, women work while blokes lounge about, and no one bats an eye. Here? Mooching off some bird, theyd say. Lets avoid that.”
“Consider it done,” the creature said. “But Nigel, youre holding back. Youve got demonic leverage, and youre asking for what half the blokes in Wetherspoons already have. Wheres the ambition?”
“Right, right. Shes got to be domesticated,” Nigel counted on his fingers. “Cooking, cleaning, fussing over me without expecting a lift in returnthats one. Never nags, always sweet as pietwo. And absolutely no kidsthree. Everyone knows women want babies. I dont. Thats the lot.”
“Bit tame” The smoke-creature shook its head. “Not my place, butfancy choosing her looks? The women youve described? Plenty about. Just older. Plain. Youd rather a uni girl, wouldnt you?”
“Yes, a uni girl!” Nigel nearly leapt. Tall, gorgeous, slim, skin like a peachbut kind. Soft-hearted. Modern girls these days, all sharp edges
“Oh, I know the type,” said the creature. Nigel couldve sworn it grinnedif smoke could grin. Not that it mattered. Soon, shed find him. Drag him home, and
Nigel squeezed his eyes shut in bliss. Then jolted awake, sprawled on a frozen skip beside a sausage wrapper and fish bones. His ribs ached. Everything loomed monstrously large. Only the sound of girlish laughter, light as wind chimes, still charmed him.
“Emily, look at this sweet little thing! Poor mite, the foxes mustve had at him. Im taking him home. Ill care for him, spoil him rotten”
“Youve too soft a heart, Sophie,” came a sharper voice. “Another stray? What if he yowls all night? Starts tomcatting about?”
“He wont. Ill take him to the vet. Come here, love”
Delicate hands scooped him up. Nigel tried to shoutonly a pitiful mew escaped.
