I call it the Iris Monet Guide To Hooking A Man.

On the surface it may look like four easy, little steps, but the truth is it's a lot more complicated than that. Without the necessary sophistication, finesse and looks (all of which I have, of course) it's highly unlikely for one to pull it off. You could almost call it a military strategy, considering the amount of precision needed. Indeed, it won't be an exaggeration to say that the guide is to wife-wannabes what the Sun Tzu Art of War was to battle generals.

I first started the guide in college when I was going through a string of casual relationships. They say experience makes you wiser and it's true; by the time I graduated, the guide was fully fleshed out and ready for its real test – securing me a proposal. And when that did happen, I thought I could put it to rest. I haven't thought of the guide in three years. But now I'm shaking out the dust and revisiting the steps that once brought me success.

1. Engage in easily flowing conversations.

Most people are under the misconception that being a trophy wife means standing there like an empty, pretty vase. Untrue. But we like to encourage that stereotype, because the less intelligent you think we are, the less guarded you'll be around us. The truth is, if you're planning to catch the eye of a man who has everything, you'll have to be more than exceptional. Beauty will always be our primary weapon, but intellect isn't far behind.

First, you'll need to have shallow knowledge on a wide range of topics. Cars and sports are a great place to start. Politics are a definite no-no; that's a sign of a sharp mind that can cut through men's bullshit. It's also important that whatever knowledge you have, it's only just-enough. Just enough to establish common ground, but not enough for you to dominate.

With Jared, the minute I found out he was interested in the stock market, I casually slipped a question on short-squeezing into the conversation. His eyes lit up like fireworks and he was only all too eager to start explaining. This strategy works extremely well with men who like to hear their own voice, I've discovered.

2. Introduce flirtation and physical touch.

Once step 1 is done, it's time to bring in step 2. Depending on your target, here you may want to be subtle or blatant (in my experience, rich men require subtlety, but average Joes are dense). No matter how desperate you are, you must not come across as overly eager. It turns a man off to know that you're easy – or worse, they may see you as only a short-term affair, a one-night stand.

Something I've found to be very effective is what I call unexpected closeness. The name speaks for itself: find a chance to suddenly get physically close with your target. Enjoy for one or maybe two seconds the spike in his heartbeat and dilating of the eyes. Then pull away in a manner that suggests it didn't affect you at all.

Packed places like nightclubs provide great opportunities. In a crowded booth, tell your target rather apologetically that you want to sit inside, and as you're squeezing past make sure he's close enough to count your eyelashes.

It takes real skill for a girl to do all this while maintaining an innocent and naïve look. Fellas, if you think she doesn't know exactly what's she doing, you're wrong and she's succeeded.

P.S. Before executing this step, make sure good perfume is applied and body odour non-existent.

3. Provide openings for him to take things further.

By the time you reach this step, you should be in that dreaded grey area between friendship and something more. Men aren't the only ones who run the risk of getting friend-zoned (though they certainly complain of it the most often).

So far, you've always been the one in control. You've done the hard work, you've put in the effort, you've led the horse to the water. Now it's time to let go of the reins and see if he drinks. Do not be the first to cross beyond the friendship line, unless in very dire circumstances or if you're 100% sure of success.

Setting the mood is always handy for step 3 (make sure to stock up on starry nights, scented candles and coy, inviting smiles).

4. Watch him fall for you hook, line and sinker.

Okay so this is less of a step and more of a glorious moment of triumph. If you've done everything well, you'll see step 4 arriving from miles away. Remember to practice your omg-I-can't-believe-this expression for when he confesses or proposes (mine is as simple as putting a hand to my heart and eyedrops in my eyes).

You mustn't let slip that this entire mating dance has always been choreographed by you and you alone.

£

I'm barely concentrating on the road as I walk back to Satoh Residence. To carry out my plan, I'll have to extend my stay in Ryefair – or better still, continue staying on in the Satohs' house. Only, how do I secure that living arrangement? Hayate and Fumiko let me spend the night because they're expecting me to leave today. Should I tell them I've been further delayed? No, that'll only give me a few days, and it may seem like I'm taking advantage of their kindness.

I turn into the driveway and start walking up to the house. What I need, is a valid reason for something more permanent –

I stop short. A little girl is standing between me and the house's front door. She's got two pigtails in yellow ribbons, and an extremely muddied-up shirt.

"Hello!" Her voice trills. "Are you here for the farm helper position?"

"No, I'm a guest here ..." My voice trails off. "Did you just say farm helper?"

She nods, and I take a discreet step backward as mud comes off in tiny droplets.

"It's a full-time position in the house. We pay by the hour and provide free board and lodging." She rattles it off like someone's told her to memorize it. "You will be expected to work weekdays but get the weekends and public holidays off. Some of the animals you'll have to interact with are horses, chickens and cows ..."

Free board and lodging in Satoh Residence! Leaving Jared must have gotten Lady Luck on my side somehow. Granted, the idea of working in a farm doesn't sound at all appealing, but I'll just think of it as a means to support my real full-time job ... which is pursuing the Satoh first-born, of course.

As to what exactly a farm helper does, I'm sure I'll figure it out along the way. Somehow.

"If you're interested," the little girl continues, "I can take you to papa. Only, I might need to do a little cleaning up."

I do a double-take. Papa? I guess the Satohs' only son isn't an only child. I take a closer look at the girl. She's short, coming up to just a little above my waist. Her skin is very pale, and her eyes, like the rest of her family, are beautiful and kiss in the corners.

She's also covered in mud from top to bottom. I wrinkle my nose. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, I spent the morning chasing after Keroro." She gestures at the garden, all marked out with puddles from the heavy rain last night. "He got hurt, so I've been taking care of him, but now he's all ready to go back into the river."

"Who's" – I stumble over the pronunciation – "Keroro?"

Instead of answering, the girl lifts her clasped hands and open it.

A frog is sitting in her palms. A very alive frog with very wide unblinking eyes. It's the first time I'm seeing a real-life frog, and within a nanosecond of looking at its slimy skin, I've decided I don't like it.

But before I can do anything, it jumps straight at my face.

I shriek, arms cartwheeling as I stumble backwards. "Get off me, get off me!"

"Don't hurt him!" the girl yells. "Keroro!"

Something distinctly wet and amphibian slips down my neck and into my shirt.

Oh, FUCK NO –

¥

akai 👁

I tug uncomfortably at the collar chafing my neck. "You know, if you wanted to kill me, there are a lot more efficient ways than death-by-tie."

Next to me, Tomiichi scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. If I wanted to kill you, efficiency would be the last thing on my mind."

"So you do want to kill me."

Tomiichi rolls his eyes and raises his voice. "Mom! Akai is being a dramatic little bitch again!"

"Lower your voice," I growl. "Mrs Satoh needs her afternoon nap; we were out for too long."

"Only because you kept looking so stiff in the family photo. The photographer was more than ready to come over and whack you around the head." Tomiichi looks at me critically. "Can't you try to smile more? You're going to get wrinkles."

"I'm quite sure smiling is what gets you wrinkles. Besides" – I hesitate – "it's a family photo. It should be just you, Chihiro, and your parents."

"There you go again. You do realize cousins are also counted as family? Therefore, it's perfectly pedantically correct for you to be included in the family photo."

"Yes, but – " I stop. "Do you hear that?"

Tomiichi pauses. "Yes, it sounds like somebody's getting murdered."

I walk to the window just in time to see Inu zoom past in a flurry of golden fur, barking incessantly. Behind him, Chihiro is running like a mad little thing, yelling "Stop! Stop!" Somewhere just beyond my vision, the screaming intensifies.

"I'm going to take a look." Tomiichi makes to follow, but I stop him. "You should get packing, the London train is leaving soon."

I hurry down the stairs and open the front door. The midday glare hits me full in the face, but I don't shrink from it; I'm more than used to working in the hot sun. It does blind me a little, so I hold a hand up to shade my eyes as I take in the sight before me.

Our front garden is looking – and sounding – a lot like a circus has just gate-crashed it. There's Gacho, our residential goose, honking away like nobody's business. Her feathers are all fluffed up and she's definitely enjoying the excitement around her. Somehow she's escaped her pen again, though I'm not surprised; geese are notoriously clever and curious, two traits that make them the most entertaining pain-in-the-asses around. Next comes Chihiro, she's grabbed Inu's leash and is trying to pull him away. Nothing new there too – our Golden Retriever has always been a chaotic ball of boundless energy. There's a saying in our home: we don't walk Inu, Inu walks us.

Right now, Inu is barking up a storm and straining hard against his leash. I follow the direction of the dog's eyes, landing on –

Oh. She is new.

She being the madwoman who's currently hopping up and down like the driveway's made of hot lava and she's barefoot. For some reason she's wearing a teddy-bear shirt ... and my old pair of jeans.

Her eyes land on me and I can see that they're a striking sea green. They're also completely wild with panic and terror.

I take a step back in apprehension as she careens toward me. "Get it off me, get it off me!"

I look at Chihiro for an explanation.

"She's got Keroro!" she yells. "It jumped onto her! I don't know where he went to but Inu's trying to get a bite of him, and I can't – hold him – back – for much longer!"

I look back at the woman. If only she can stop moving and screaming for one second so I can see where – I pick out the frog-shaped bulge in her shirt.

I cleared my throat. "It's in your shirt," I say.

"I know it's in my goddamn shirt!" Her voice sounds like she's on the verge of tears and her eyes are squeezed tightly shut as if she can't bear to look. "Just get it off me, get it off me!"

"I think," I began politely, "it would be much better if you did it yourself – "

"I'm not touching it!" Gosh, that shrill pitch. Sopranos can't compare to her. "Just get it – out!"

I take a deep breath. "Very well then. If you say so."

Opening the collar of her shirt, I plunge my right hand down into the recesses of her bra. I refuse to look, and so there's a tense second as my fingers feel across soft, curved flesh – and then it's the slimy skin of Keroro the frog. I grab hold of him firmly and lift him out.

"Keroro!" Chihiro drops Inu's leash and comes running over.

I pass Keroro to Chihiro, turn around to check on the woman – and get slapped across the face immediately.

"You!" Her voice chokes with uncontrolled emotion. "How dare you, you molester!"

I tongue the inside of my cheek. That was a whopper of a slap, it stings. "My apologies." My voice is tight as I turn back to face the woman. "But I did warn you it would be better for you to do it yourself."

"That's no excuse! You – how dare you!" she splutters. "I am a guest here!"

And I live here, I want to counter, but I'm not one for petty arguments. It's a waste of my breath, and she looks like the kind of woman who would chase you to the ends of the Earth just to have the last word.

Instead, I apologize again, bowing as I do so. I can tell the bow has taken her aback; they don't bow in England the way we do in Japan. It's the first thing I noticed when I moved into this country five years ago. And I'm not ashamed to say that I've used that observation for my own gain multiple times.

As the woman tries to decide whether she should continue yelling at me or let it go, Chihiro tugs at my hand. "Let's go, oniisan. We need to put Keroro back to the river where he belongs. Otherwise Inu might get his paws on him again."

Even though I keep telling her not to, Chihiro still insists on calling me brother. She says it's because she sees me as part of the family now. In fact, everyone in the house views me as Mr Satoh's second son, but the truth is, I feel too bound by respect to accept that. They've already done so much for me, my aunt and uncle. I can't possibly receive more of their kindness.

"We'll go in a minute," I say. "First I need to take Gacho back to her pen and Inu back inside the house."

I cluck my tongue twice in rapid succession and Gacho comes obediently. Inu is still busy sniffing around for Keroro, so I take out a dog treat from my pocket. As expected, he bounds over.

As I lead my charges away, I'm very aware of the odd expression that has come across the woman's face. It's a strangled mixture of shock, elation, and dawning mortification. Like someone just told her all her Christmases have arrived, but there are no presents.

Shaking my head, I walk across the lawn. What a weird woman.

I can see I'll have to stay far away from her.