RAFFERTY HOVERED ON the pavement opposite Made in Heaven’s Hope Street office, garnering courage while he essayed fascination with the pharmacy’s window display. Finally, alert for familiar faces, he crossed the road and walked under the agency’s sign of cherubs playing hide and seek amongst billowing white clouds and through the rose-tinted glass of the dating agency’s door.
Inside, was a large and airy outer office, its walls hung with dreamy, soft-focus wedding photographs. Half-a-dozen easy chairs in soft pastel shades were grouped around low coffee tables bestrewn with magazines that followed the walls’ romantic theme.
All the faux-romantic ambience made Rafferty want to turn tail and run. Maybe he would have done, but the pink-suited buxom blonde behind the reception desk raised he
