Elise

Moving to a new pad

2011-07-18T15:53:00.000+01:00

I'm moving to wordpress!

I felt a little left behind on blogger so I decided to move. You can find me at http://elisecrets.wordpress.com/

Hope to see you there

A beautiful Attribute

2011-06-15T09:04:00.002+01:00

Yesterday a deep discussion took place between myself and my new work colleague.

Quiet-Guy belongs to the Muslim faith and has recently tied the knot with his long standing girlfriend.

So, me being the nosy person that I am, demanded details of how they met, how they fell in love, how did she style her hair etc.

Their story is quite a sweet one. They met four years ago while they were both studying. They became quick friends and fell in-love (awww).

Like every good love story, the main characters faced a few obstacles. The main problem with their relationship was that her parents didn't approve of the way the couple had met. Their beliefs and traditions were the same, but the issue was that they hadn't been properly introduced as potential partners.

Being a confident and respectful person, Quiet-Guy politely spoke with her father and asked for her hand in the traditional sense. He promised to take care of her and love her like no other.

So far so good right?

Well Quiet-Guy casually mentioned in passing that his wife had decided to wear a hijab (a hijab is a headscarf that covers only the hair not the face).

I immediately jumped to the conclusion that her decision was really his.

Talk about media influenced!

He smiled and said "I knew you'd think that!"

So I felt guilty, and decided to probe a little more.

Quiet-Guy's wife took the decision to cover her hair as a form of worship to their lord, not as a compliance with his wishes. He, of course supports her decision.

He then said something very deep "I believe a woman's hair is her most beautiful attribute, even more so after meeting my wife. I didn't ask her to wear a hijab but I'm happy that she does. It makes me proud to think that her most beautiful asset is for my eyes only."

So when I got home, I casually asked Solicitor what he thought was a woman's most beautiful physical attribute.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows in question.

"Are you writing a romantic novel again? Because the last time you did that it turned in to an unfinished thriller."

I flushed with annoyance. I worked hard for two days on that novel. And so what if I went off subject? It's not like I was planning on being an international best seller or anything!

I pushed him again for an answer. And this is what he said:

"Probably your hair. It just smells and feels nice. Or your skin. Why?"

"What about eye's and smile?"

"Yeah, very beautiful, but you said physical. Eyes and smiles are to do with personality and emotion. Why? Are you fishing for compliments?"

Of course I wasn't!

Well, it wasn't my main aim but a few compliments wouldn't hurt.

I told him about Quiet-Guy and his wife's decision to wear a hijab. We talked a little about it and explored the extremism of wearing the garment.

I'm not one to normally look for a sociological discussion, but any thoughts?

The Return of Elise

2011-06-14T08:17:00.002+01:00

Well... I'm not too sure how to start. I'm assuming that most of you have also gone AWOL but if not... HELLO AGAIN!

I haven't blogged in over a year, and I've just realised how much I missed it.

I recently started a new job. The starting my own business thing? Long story. Not over. I'll cover it one day. But for now I'd like to introduce you to my new colleagues (now the new subject of gossip)

Doing the same job as I am but with a different brand we have a hardass blond european. When I first met her she must have been going though some kind of breakdown. We shook hands and the conversation went a little like this:

"Hi, nice to meet you I'm Elise."

"I'm Euro-Girl."

Then she slipped into a low whisper

"If you want my advice Elise, I'd leave. I'd leave right now. These people are fucking bastards!"

Then her large brown eyes filled with tears and she fled in the direction of the loos.

What a great start. I supressed a groan. I had no wish to spend the major part of my day with an emotional woman, but I soon found out that I'd just caught her on a bad day.

Euro-Girl has three others in her team: Quiet-Guy, Diva and The-Invisible-One.

Quiet-Guy is, well, quiet. But don't let the lack of talk fool you. You don't have to be a blabber mouth to be confident. You don't have to shout about what your doing to be good at it.

Quiet-Guy gave one nod when he met me. About half an hour later he added me on office communicator. We have a lot in common. Apart from my dramatics. And my chatty nature. And our views of the work place.

Actually scrap that. We don't have much in common, but we get along.

Diva is a larger than life woman. When I first met her she'd limped in to work an hour late carrying a shoe with a broken heal. She was in a bad mood.

Not because she'd broken a heal and spent an hour limping miles down the road. No, she was late and moody because she'd spent an hour in Aldo complaining that they didn't have the exact same pair of shoes to replace her ruined ones.

She flicked her long impracticle nails in frustration and complained that the shop managers didn't even sound apologetic when they said sorry.

Lastly on the other team is The-Invisible-One. I met her once. In passing. She pulls slot of sickies and takes alot of holidays.

My team also consists of a quiet guy. At least I thought he was. The more I get to know him the more I see a playful side. Indian-Guy is from India. He has the best scientific brain. Worked for years in research and has recently taken a job with this company to be "the science behind the product". Indian-Guy is cool. I think I'm going to enjoy working with him

And last but not least there's Sweetie. Sweetie is, in awful terms, a doormat. There's nothing she wouldn't do out of the goodness of her heart. When I first met Sweetie she insisted on helping me carry my bag. She fetches coffee and tea and anything else the team would like. It's hard not to take up on those offers... I have to control myself. She's not my PA!

So ther you have it. A new start and a new post. I hope your all still out there!

Relax, Rant and Relax

2010-04-30T10:41:00.003+01:00

I have a day off!

I mean a real day off. I'm not working, I'm not organising meetings, or weddings, or going through finances. I feel like a diva!

It's such a beautiful day outside, but I have no plan to leave this house. I'm sipping pimms and lemonade (yes I know its before 12, but so what?), wearing my short-shorts and a tacky top with what are you staring at written in tiny tiny letters across my chest, and watching Smallville reruns.

I actually have time to blog, and catch up on some reading. I have seriously missed reading about everyone's lives. I'm such a nosy bitch!

Now I know on a lazy day like this I shouldn't talk politics but; Did you see the debate last night??

Oh. My. God.

Answer the question David. Answer the question. You can't can you?

No, David Cameron never answers the question. He blurts out a pre-meditated "Labour have ruined you. We can help you"

Bullshit!

Help us?

How, David? How? When you're about to destroy the construction industry. Don't deny it David, we heard you!

I'm still on the fence. Labour have served us well. True, Gordon's the worst front man ever, but the party still serves us well. We needed the New Labour reign. I think people are seriously forgetting how it was when the Tory's were in power.

But then there's Clegg.... sigh!

The Liberal Democrats are brilliant in theory. Their policies are the best so far. They've covered every aspect of politics with a reasonable plan in hand.

I love what they say about immigration. They are the only party to actually have a solid plan. Funny how immigration is a Tory Campaign Idea isn't it? Too bad they haven't given the public any insight into how they'll realistically tackle it the way Lib Dems did.

And Nick seems genuine.

I've decided to wear both red and yellow on the day of election.

I'll go with my instincts on the day.

My instincts so far are; The Conservative Party are scum. Not as scummy as BNP or Ukip. But they're definitely comparable to germs of a public toilet.

Ok.

Whew.

That's my rant for the day.

I'm going to pour myself another pimms and relax.

Bimbo

2010-03-01T14:19:00.002Z

I've been buried for a while.

So I suppose it's time to wake up!

Brother In Law (Solicitor's brother) and I have finally started things up. I have to admit (very grudgingly) that he was right; having a male business partner does help. We have two clients! Okay, I know that doesn't sound that impressive, but honestly I am over the moon.

Solicitor and I have set a date. I have six months to sort out everything. Luckily, I have already sorted out and filed away four large Liberace folders full of possibilities.

This is where Bimbo came in handy.

Bimbo is the most organised person when it comes to certain things. For example, Bimbo is the only person I know that has eight make up bags.

Yes. EIGHT.

They're actually first aid bags, the type that unzip and fold out with separated plastic compartments for bandages etc. Bimbo has a different bag for different make-up items. A whole bag dedicated to lips; the gloss separated from the lipstick and organised into colour. A whole bag for mascara; separated by volume, length, colour.

So about two months ago, Bimbo and I were lying down on my living room floor with thousands of clippings of wedding magazines sprawled all over the floor.

Actually I was the only one lying down. Bimbo was sort of sitting up on the sofa. As much as her huge belly allowed her to do. And I mean huge! She had three cushions shoved behind her lower back and she sighed loudly every time she lifted her bottle of water to her mouth.

Despite her vulnerable position, Bimbo turned into Hilter!

"For God's sake Elise, the orchids go under 'table arrangement' not 'flower arrangement'. Not there! In THE OTHER FOLDER!"

"Jesus Christ! How the hell are you going to find the dress that you want unless you put them in order of style. No. No Elise. No. Not order of I-Like-This-One. Order of STYLE! Separate them by STYLE not Long and Ones-With-Train."

I hate to admit this, but I nearly cried. I started organising the wedding months before that, but apparently I had "done it all wrong".

Bimbo knew what she was talking about, though. After a few days we had separated everything (my one pathetic folder of my dream wedding) into four folders. It looks amazing! Each section is divided into sub-sections, with cross referenced footnotes. So for example if I flick to "1940s Dress" I have page references to "1940s Style Flower arrangements" and "1940s Hair".

When we were finally done we excitedly flicked through the folders like normal women and talked about the perfect wedding. It was during this happy occasion that something extraordinary happened.

Bimbo shut her eyes and groaned.

The baby was coming!

I dropped my folder and stared at her. She huffed and puffed in pain for about thirty seconds and then she carried on like normal.

"I love the 40s thing. We can do your hair like Veronica Lake"

"Bimbo, what the hell is wrong with you? That was a contraction!"

She nodded calmly.

"Yes I know. I've been having them for about an hour."

An hour?!

Okay, I must be the most unobservant person in the whole world. I didn't even notice!

I panicked and began hauling her up.

"We have to get you to the hospital. I need to call Pierce. Oh my God. I need to call an ambulance. No. I'll take you. We can't wait for an ambulance. Breath Bimbo, breath. Has your water broken?"

Oh my God, the sofa!

I didn't mean to think about the last thing, but for some reason it popped into my head.

Bimbo protested hard as a yanked open the front door.

"Wait. It'll be hours yet."

She was the one that dragged me back to the living room.

"Breath Elise."

I did. I breathed and then I cried.

Bimbo was having a baby. I was over joyed for her. Over joyed for her and selfishly crying for myself.

I didn't say anything but Bimbo is my best friend. She knew. She gripped my hand when I should have been holding hers and said "I'm here."

Two minutes later we were laughing and hugging. I called Pierce, who panicked way more than I did!

Bimbo has another Baby Girl. Big Baby Girl is a big sister! How adorable is that?

Great Aunt Celine

2009-11-10T22:35:00.003Z

Grandmama's sister, Great Aunt Celine, is staying with Grandmama until the new year.

Like Grandmama, Great Aunt Celine has an air of sophistication. She's beautiful and holds herself with grace and elegance.

That is where the similarity ends.

Grandmama is a homely woman. She's embraced family life, knows how to bake, knit and other grandmother-like things. Great Aunt Celine is slightly eccentric.

She was married. Several times.

Husband Number 1 was quite a few years older than she was. He was a soldier in WWII. His family at the time were based in a northern village in France, his wife and baby daughter. It's not quite clear what happened to his family, all I know is that he lost them in 1944.

For five years he lived alone in Paris, until Great Aunt Celine stumbled into his life.

The poor man was trying desperately to read his newspaper quietly in a cafe. Celine spotted the serious looking man in the corner and thought it would be fun to blow smoke at him to see how angry she could make him.

Apparently he "loved her" that very night... (ew!) and they got married a month later.

He was a wonderful husband, and would have probably made a good father, but Great Aunt Celine got bored with him quite soon after he slipped the ring on her finger, and she decided to keep a lover on the side.

Husband Number 2 was that lover. He was nearer to Celine's age and she felt more comfortable with him on a "social level". Husband Number 1 knew about Celine's lover, but chose to turn a blind eye to the situation. Celine preferred it that way and enjoyed the sneaking about.

Obviously Husband Number 1 got a little cheesed off with the situation and eventually divorced Celine, leaving her free to marry her lover.

Husband Number 2 was a fun husband. They went dancing together. They liked to smoke on the balcony and talk about poetry and the theatre. They were happy for over four years.

Until he found himself a mistress.

Husband Number 2 was an honorable man and told Celine that he intended to take a mistress before her actually did. He swore to Celine that they would always remain husband and wife and that nobody would ever take her place in his heart.

Celine played the dutiful wife and gracefully accepted his mistress. Husband Number 2 had fun with Claudette, and Celine transferred their savings to a personal account and moved out.

Husband Number 2 understood and gave her an easy divorce.

Husband Number 3 came a few years later. He was Celine's real love. They met through a mutual friend and became quick friends. Their friendship developed into love and they eventually swore to be with each other always.

They bought a beautiful home and decorated it themselves. It took them two months to paint the living room. Husband Number 3 painted a mural of a tree on one wall and he was adamant on getting the shade of each leaf perfect.

He left her the home they built together. There was nobody else. He left everything to her in his Will.

Not surprisingly, Great Aunt Celine has alot of stories to tell and advise to give.

"Elise, how is your sex life?" she asked me last night, in a serious tone.

What was I supposed to say? "Yes, my sex life is amazing. My orgasms are as strong as ever."

"Because, Cherie, you have only to ask and I will be happy to advise you."

No thanks! The last thing I need is my great aunt giving me that kind of advise.

She smiled wistfully "My second husband was very good with his mouth-"

"Stop! Oh my God! Stop!"

Elise Returns

2009-09-06T16:06:00.005+01:00

It's been pretty crazy.

The first two weeks were spent in a slump of depression. I mean actual depression.

Sister came to stay and we did nothing but lounge around in our pajamas staring into space. Occasionally one of us would speak.

"He doesn't know where the Lenor goes. How is he going to do his laundry? Should I call him? I should. I'm going to call him."

She didn't call. And I never answered her.

I was listening.

Subconsciously.

"How can the doctors say "it's just one of those things" and "it's nature's way"? What kind of bullshit answer is that? Their supposed to be scientists, but when it comes to something that they don't know it becomes "nature's way". What the fuck?!"

It worked both ways. She never answered. And in all honesty I don't think she was even listening.

But I needed her there. Just like she needed me.

Then of course Solicitor lost it with the both of us. Over a bowl of dry pasta and frozen garlic bread.

It wasn't the fact that I'd over boiled the pasta and completely forgot to cook some sauce. It wasn't even the fact that Sister forgot to switch the oven on to cook the pathetic roll of garlic bread. It was the fact that we'd spent over two hours preparing the meal.

Solicitor, like most men when they get back from work, was hungry. He was tired and slightly moody. He'd reached for a menu and I'd felt the first stirrings of guilt. I insisted that I'd cook. Sister numbly got up from the sofa to help.

Two hours later Solicitor stared at the breakfast bar and completely flipped out. Sister cried. For the first time in weeks. I sobbed my heart out. For the first time in weeks. Solicitor told us both that he'd book us both for an appointment if we didn't sort ourselves out.

British people don't go to doctors for those kind of problems. There's nothing ever wrong with us. Complain? Yes. Admit that it's affecting us? No way! We don't do psychological traumas. We don't have them.

So the next day Sister moved back home. Nephew missed her terribly and moving home got her back into a routine.

I signed up with an agency and began temping.

Temping is an odd world. Honestly, people assume that you're pretty thick if you're a temp.

"Can you staple these two documents together? Please make sure the pages are in order. It makes sense when they're in order."

You don't say!

It keeps me busy. And I meet new people.

I've started planning my wedding. Sometimes flower arrangements are so fascinating. Other times I toss the wedding magazines aside with zero interest and tell Solicitor that I think it would be better if we just eloped.

The last time I said that he actually scared me a little. He told me that he'd looked into a Vegas wedding at he'd really love to do the Elvis thing. I must have looked so shocked and freaked out that he laughed at me and handed me the new bride gown catalogue that I ordered. I haven't complained much since then...

Lost in Translation

2009-06-10T12:57:00.004+01:00

Sometimes when the phone rings I feel a little apprehensive.

Aimee has been known to stalk us once in a while, and when she's crying I can't help but try and help her.

Yesterday afternoon I was right to feel nervous.

"Oi Elise, como você é? parabéns!"

Oh shit! It was Solicitor's grandmother. She doesn't speak English and I don't speak Portugese. I could attempt to get by in Spanish.

"Hola, estoy bien. Cómo es usted?"

"Sou tão feliz para você. Depois que tudo que você foi por, merece alguma felicidade."

Um. What the fuck?

It's so much easier to communicate when you're in front of the person. You can get by on nods and hand gestures. How the hell was I supposed to do it over the phone?

"Um, hang on one second. Un momento."

I ran to the book shelve with the cordless phone and pulled open the Portugese dictionary.

I always see people in films getting by with a dictionary. That is a complete lie! I had no idea how to begin. Do I attempt to translate and then find a translation for my answer? That would take too long.

I pulled out my mobile and called Solicitor.

"You have to help me!" I whispered urgently. "I don't understand a word your grandmother is saying."

"She's there with you?" Solicitor sounded shocked.

Avó can barely walk. She's 4 foot nothing with extremely frail bones.

"She's on the phone!"

"Tell her you'll call her back. We'll speak to her when I get home."

"Okay. How?"

"Say 'Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite?'"

I lifted the cordless

"Hello! Um Hola!"

"Olá. Costas bem-vindas. Onde foi?"

I lifted my mobile.

"She said 'Onde foi'?"

"Elise, just repeat what I said. I haven't got time to translate a female gossiping session."

"Okay. What did you say again?"

"Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite."

I lifted the cordless.

"Avó, Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite?"

"Naturalmente você pode telefonar me mais tarde. Acabo de querer felicitá-lo, mas esperarei até que meu neto volta para casa. Será melhor se traduz."

I lifted my mobile.

"She said 'se traduz'?"

Solicitor breathed in frustration.

"I've got a meeting in ten minutes. Say goodbye to her and I'll call her later."

He hung up on me! I lifted the cordless. All I have to do is say goodbye. Without sounding like a complete idiot.

"Hola Avó. Um. Hablaré con usted pronto. Adiós?"

"Tá bom. Falarei a você mais tarde. Tome cuidado. Bye."

Yes! I said goodbye without any help! Okay, it was in Spanish, but she obviously understood me.

I really should read the Portugese books that I bought. But to be fair, Solicitor's grandmother is the only one in his whole family that doesn't speak English.

They're all pretty fluent in their mother tongue though. Sometimes they all chatter in a mix of both English and Portugese. They flick between to two with ease, I'm almost jealous at times.

Grandmama used to tell me to learn other languages when I was growing up. I learnt the basics of French and Spanish. French, because Grandmama (and my mother) are originally from France, and Spanish because of my father. But I didn't learn them fluently. I speak enough to get by; "Can I get a taxi?" "I live in a semi-detached house." "How much is that red dress?"

After yesterday I have a new-found project. I am going to learn to speak Portugese fluently. I am also going to brush up on my French and Spanish.

I also want to learn Japanese. You never know when you'll need to use it.

Oh, and German. German is a good language to learn.

And Polish. There are lots of Polish people in London now. It'll help if I know what they're saying.

Okay, I'm going to need to prioritise. In order of importance:
Portugese
French
Spanish (French and Spanish will be easy to brush up on, so really it won't take too long)
Japanese (in case I want to do business in Japan, which could happen)
German (good because... well its just good to know)
Polish (I want to get a new kitchen fitted soon)
Greek (I have a friend who lives in Cyprus. The last time I visited her the gardener was talking to me. He could have been chatting me up. Or he could have been asking me what I think of the new potatoes)

Maybe I should switch German and Polish. I'm more likely to need Polish before German right?

Right. I'm going to start. Tomorrow.

Not Tomorrow. Monday. Yes, Monday.

Gifts: Three from Stoner, One from Solicitor

2009-06-08T12:39:00.002+01:00

Stoner came over on Friday night. Bearing gifts.

He brought an eighth, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a phone number.

I don't smoke weed, unless I'm in Amsterdam (three times a year). Stoner smokes all the time, and on Friday he strongly believed I should get stoned and drunk. I politely refused the green and graciously accepted the Jack Daniels.

Solicitor, Stoner and I filled our glasses and ordered pizza. It was nice of them to do that. Stoner's not the type to display too much sympathy, he helps by being normal. We set up ludo and ended up playing for hours.

At around 11 Stoner picked up his phone and made a call. He spoke briefly before handing me the phone.

It was Gay Boss! I couldn't believe it. He'd disappeared off the planet and I hadn't spoken to him in months. Just hearing his voice made me laugh. He's the most sarcastic, cynical person on the face of the earth.

"What have you gone and done, Elise? I leave the country for a few months and you go and fuck up like that."

If any other person said what he said I would have cried. Instead I smiled and asked him where he was. He's in Miami. Not exactly his normal travelling destination.

"It's a different world out hear. I've never seen so many plastic people in my life. It's like walking into the Barbie mansion."

"You'd know wouldn't you? I thought you were in China."

"I was. I got bored."

"Bored?"

"Yeah, the girl I was travelling with got yellow fever."

"Excuse me?!"

"Her words. She said she's got a bad case of yellow fever. Can't stop getting off on chinks."

Only Gay Boss can deliver a line like that with utmost seriousness.

"Decided to pack up and leave so she could move Wong in. Felt like a change anyway. Got bored of eating noodles and cat."

"You should have come home."

"Why? I like it here. I've already made five people cry."

"Wow. You're lagging behind."

"Five people, today."

"Oh."

"It's too easy. These people really take things personally. This one woman asked me if I was a football hooligan. I asked her if she was trying to look like a plastic slag. I think I might have upset her."

"She should have asked you if you like being a prick."

"I didn't mean to hurt her. I was genuinely interested. She didn't even bother to answer the question."

Gay Boss is seriously dry and deadpan. Most people cry around him.

We spoke for about half an hour. He spoke about himself. And I appreciated that. The last thing I wanted was to talk about it.

Stoner didn't stay long afterwards. He called a cab and left at around midnight. I sat on the sofa with Solicitor leaning on his shoulder. I felt pretty tipsy.

"I need to air out the house." I groaned. "It smells like weed."

"You need to start talking." Solicitor said back.

I slipped down and rested my head on his lap. He absently stroked my hair behind my ears. I love people playing with my hair, I find it so relaxing. I closed my eyes, wanting to sleep.

"Don't sleep. Talk."

"Lets wait until tomorrow."

"That's what you said yesterday."

"Can we forget about it?"

"No."

"I want to have a baby."

To be honest I didn't even think about having another one up until I said it. I opened my eyes, partly in surprise and partly because I wanted to see Solicitor's reaction.

He looked uncertain.

"We can't replace what we lost." He said finally. "Heal first."

"You don't want another one." I couldn't help feeling hurt about it. He was so happy when I told him I was pregnant. Maybe he didn't think he could trust me to look after another one. That I wasn't worthy.

"I want children with you. But not like this. Wait a little. We have other things to do."

"Like what? What else is there to do?"

My eyes filled with tears. I wasn't pregnant for too long, but already my world had changed. I couldn't imagine not having a baby on the way.

"Elise, I want us to get married first."

It wasn't the first time we spoke about marriage. We always assumed we'd always be together. But there was something different this time.

"I'm asking you to marry me."

"Why?"

Okay, not exactly the most romantic response, but I really needed to know. Was he asking so that we could try for another baby. Was he asking to 'heal' the pain?

"I'm asking because I love you, and I want you to be my wife. I've been planning on it for a long time."

He gently slid away from me and stood up. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a tattered little box. Inside was a beautiful engagement ring. Aside from the large diamond in the middle, it has tiny encrusted ones all the way around the band.

Solicitor's grandfather proposed to his grandmother with that very ring. It was passed to Solicitor's father, the eldest son. And I guess to was passed to Solicitor. Solicitor slid it on my finger and told me that now it belongs to me.

"You didn't give it to Aimee?"

"No. I didn't want her to have it."

I did cry then. Buckets of tears. Tears of happiness.

I imagined being proposed to in so many situations.

I thought that when Billy proposed to Mo with alphabet spaghetti, it was really sweet. Marry Me written in the middle of a plate, after they had their fish fingers. Solicitor thought I was joking when I told him that I cried when I saw it. He teased me and asked me if I secretly wish I was a working class east-ender.

The proposition in Serendipity was nice too. A large boxed gift with lots of smaller boxes. The last one containing the ring. Solicitor agreed with me. It was pretty cute.

I never wanted to be proposed to with an audience. Some people love the idea of an entire restaurant witnessing, clapping and cheering. I knew I'd hate something like that. It had to be in private.

Solicitor has always been pretty intense and passionate (I guess the Mediterranean background accounts for that). I knew that whenever he asked, if he asked, it would be amazing and I wasn't wrong.

Sunflowers

2009-06-04T17:02:00.002+01:00

Solicitor bought me some sunflowers today. Beautiful flowers. My favourite flowers. I love the way the flower is so open. Yellow always makes me smile.

My baby is gone and I don't know why. I keep thinking back to everything I did that day, everything I ate. I even listed the ingredients on the back of all the packages and googled the potential dangers.

Solicitor's worried. I don't mean to worry him, I just don't want to talk about it. I feel too guilty.

The day it happened was a day like any other. Solicitor was in the living room watching the evening news. The weather was so beautiful. We were going to go to the park for a walk. I went to change my shoes and go to the bathroom.

I didn't even feel any pain until I saw the blood.

I never thought it would happen. It sounds so selfish, but I truly believed that it would never happen to me.

I walked into the living. So calm. It was like it was someone else walking. I told Solicitor that I wanted to go to the hospital.

I wanted to drive. It sounds crazy, but I was so angry with him when he took the keys away from me. I didn't understand why he wouldn't let me, and I dissolved into sobs.

He's the greatest man in the world. He held me close when they told us and he never let me go.
He was upset too, I could see it in his eyes, but he stayed strong for me.

I wish he wasn't upset. It makes me feel worse knowing that he lost something too. I was supposed to look after our son, but I failed.

Its been a few days. I've spoken to lots of people. They're all very sorry. If I need anything, they're all there for me.

Grandmama spent yesterday with me. She made me hot chocolate. When I didn't drink it she poured me a whisky, my first drink in months. She packed away the baby stuff. I told her to throw it away but she said that she'd take it with her and save it for me.

Bimbo cried more than I did. I felt myself shaking when she called. I couldn't speak to her for long, it was too emotional.

Mother made me the most angry. She told me that it doesn't matter. It wasn't planned so it shouldn't be too much of a loss. I hung up on her and I refuse to speak to her.

Sister was the easiest to talk to. Misery likes company. Its a sad fact. I told her I didn't want to talk and she told me that she did. She cried because her marriage is over and I felt useful when I comforted her.

I shouldn't feel glad to hear her troubles. I love her and I truly wish she wasn't going through what she is. But she's the only one I can speak to over the phone. If she wasn't going through her own troubles I would have hung up on her too.

The Police Interview

2009-05-27T13:34:00.004+01:00

I've been pretty tired. Too tired to blog. Too tired to read (and believe me I've missed reading blogs).

There's been little progress on CEO's claim. Obviously the police have to investigate every case that gets thrown their way, no matter how stupid it may seem.

Apparently it wasn't always like that. Before the "terror" attacks, the police would refuse to view cases if they didn't deem them as important. Now all cases are important. Talk about a waste of resources.

So last week the PO in charge of the case called me and asked me to come in for a friendly interview.

I said no.

He said if I refuse he'll have to come and collect me.

I was excited. I'd be one of those badass bitches. Maybe I could wear my leather jacket, some eyeliner...

"You mean you'll arrest me?!"

"It's not that dramatic."

"Will you cuff me?"

"No."

"Read me my rights?"

"Yes."

"Can we have the siren on?"

Pause

"This isn't a movie. And to be honest, the case is seriously minor."

"No excitement?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay."

In the end I drove down. They made me nice cup of ginger tea. (The metropolitan police budget includes Twinnings Special Tea! ps: Thanks Kitty, Crag and Angel for the tips) And they asked me a stream of questions.

I was there for about an hour. The PO looked like he was going to burst out laughing during the session. Believe me I held nothing back.

"This isn't the first time they've called the police." I told him. "CEO called the fraud squad once. Some one had a misspelling on their website."

That was a funny incident. They asked him how much money the company had lost because of it. CEO's attitude was "We didn't actually lose anything, but we could have lost money."

It's like leaving you're car door unlocked and calling the police the next day:
"Sir, you're car hasn't been stolen." "Yes, but the point is, it could have been."

How do people that stupid survive in the world? I hate the fact that they waltz through life without a fucking clue!

CEO's taken it too far. Time to rally the troops.

2009-05-19T17:56:00.005+01:00

When you think all is lost, something happens and you realise that things are not so bad.

Sister and Nephew are still with us. They'll be going home soon. Nephew has school and although it's difficult for Brother-in-law and Sister, they have to bite the bullet and deal with it. They'll move back in and talk about the next steps.

Last night I got a call from CEO's new lawyer. I swore when I answered. It was a reflex action, I couldn't help it.

"Miss Secrets, I'm calling on behalf of my client, CEO."

"What the fuck do you want?"

To be fair, I did have my head down the toilet, again. The morning sickness hasn't gone anywhere. Sometimes it hits me with a vengeance.

There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone. I'm guessing he didn't expect me to be so rude.

"I've emailed you some details concerning your breach of contract."

"Excuse me. What breach?"

Now, apparently CEO and New Guy have reason to believe I have breached my contract of employment and they are in the process of recovering losses.

As you can imagine, I didn't take too kindly to the allegation.

"Your client has nothing better to do with his time. Obviously he doesn't have a brain in his dense skull because in order to recover losses you need to have something called proof, and as a lawyer you should know this."

"Are you denying the allegations?"

"Are you listening to yourself? What am I supposed to have done?"

CEO has accused me of leaking trade secrets to a competitor under a false name.

There are many things wrong with this:

1. As far as I am aware, there are no trade secrets. Seriously, there are no secrets.

2. A false name? Hmm now if a false name was used, how can they be certain it was me?

3. Why would I do something so stupid?

In the end I told the lawyer to piss off and he told me that CEO has a right to apply for an injunction against me. I laughed and told him to go ahead. I'm not the one that's going to look like a total idiot.

I puked a little more after the phone call. And got a little emotional.

puke!

"Why won't they just leave me alone!"

puke!

"I haven't done-"

puke!

"What a bastard-"

puke!

"I hate-"

puke!

Solicitor knocked on the door.

"Elise? Can I come in?"

puke!

"No!"

puke!"

"Tell them to fuck-"

puke!

"Off!"

Sister knocked on the door.

"Elise, let me in! Are you okay?"

Nephew knocked.

"Aunt Elise! Are you going to die?"

I didn't answer. Instead I squeezed the largest amount of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and cleaned my teeth.

I told Solicitor about the phone call afterwards. He laughed and told me that I've got nothing to worry about. CEO's a complete idiot.

I got a phone call this morning from a police officer. He needs to follow up an attack on CEO's company security. I was pretty shocked. He told me that it's a standard follow up to any crime reported and that in his view it's pretty minor.

Yes, it is pretty minor. But to me it's pretty major. CEO called the police, after I told his lawyer to piss off, and made up an attack on his security (whatever that's supposed to mean).

CEO has taken it too far. It's time to rally the troops. First things first, I need some advice from Gay Boss.

The full story, apparently

2009-05-14T14:31:00.002+01:00

Nephew is Brother-in-law's son. Apparently.

I don't know what to believe, to be honest. Sister told me everything that night.

Sister was with Brother-in-law when Mother married Stepfather (Sister is my stepsister, but she's the only sibling I have. I love her). Anyway, Sister and Brother-in-law knew each other from school. They used to go camping together.

I don't understand the whole fuss about camping. You spend ages setting up a tent just so you can sit outside by a fire. You hardly sleep because there are so many insects around and you wake up smelly. Why not have a fire in the back garden? You can sit around in the grass and swap stories and get drunk. Once your all knackered you can stagger into a nice clean bed.

Anyway, Brother-in-law asked Sister to marry him on one of their group camping trips. Although she said yes, she later told Sean that she was unsure. She was a little drunk at the time. She shared a kiss with Sean behind one of the tents.

To be honest, when Sister told me that I was really pissed off. I told her everything that happened in my life, and she didn't trust me enough to tell me that she snogged her boyfriends best friend.

Anyway, Brother-in-law and Sister got married (obviously). I was maid of honour and Sean was best man. I remember he didn't look too happy that day. Then he tried to kiss me on the dance floor. It didn't work, I stepped on his toe with my heel. Besides I was young. Really young. What a perve!

He left for a job in Edinburgh not long afterwards. I didn't hear much about him after the wedding. I assumed he'd moved on with life.

A year or so into their marriage, Sean went to stay with Brother-in-law and Sister for a weekend. Now I'm pretty disgusted by this, but Sister slept with him. It was a one time thing, apparently.

I don't care that it was only one time. She was a bitch for doing it. Brother-in-law must have crossed her mind while it was happening. The fact that she didn't stop it just shows a lack of respect.

She told Brother-in-law. She couldn't keep it to herself. And he forgave her. He actually forgave her for sleeping with his best friend.

Sean showed up about six months ago and saw Brother-in-law, Sister and Nephew unloading the car. He must have got the wrong end of the stick because he rushed over and kept saying "Why didn't you tell me? Let me see my son."

Idiot!

Nephew is Brother-in-law's son. Brother-in-law went mad and told him to piss off out of their lives. And Sister thought that was the end of that.

Obviously not if she accidently got a text meant for some other woman.

I don't condone what Sister did, but that doesn't give Brother-in-law the right to cheat on her.

After Sister told me the full story I stared at her in shock. She wasn't the person I'd always thought she was. I'd always looked up to her. She was the one with high morality. She'd kept so much from me. When I lost my virginity she was the first person I called!

She was always so happy with Brother-in-law. They were the perfect, boring couple. Was that the problem? Was she bored with him? They could have spiced things up. Gone on holiday or something.

It's over. How are they going to work it out? How can you ever look at someone knowing that they've betrayed you?

Solicitor and I were lying in bed last night. I bit his shoulder gently and said "If you ever cheat on me, I'd never forgive you." He kissed me and said "Good. We're on the same page."

Tears!

2009-05-13T14:49:00.003+01:00

No tears.

By Tuesday morning I was beginning to feel a little pissed off with everyone. Sister hadn't left the bedroom since Friday. I had to keep Nephew busy to stop him from wondering why his mother was lying in bed staring into space and why his father wasn't with them.

I snapped by Tuesday afternoon.

"Get up. You need to take a shower and you need to start talking."

It took a lot of energy, but I finally persuaded her to get up. While she was in the shower her phone rang. It was Brother-in-law! I didn't answer, I have a policy of never answering other peoples phones, but I couldn't resist calling him back.

I could practically hear Solicitor's voice of reason as I dialed Brother-in-laws number. "Leave it Elise. It's none of your business." Of course I ignored it.

Brother-in-law answered straight away.

"I need to speak to my wife."

"Really? It's taken you this long? I guess you sort of forgot she was your wife, huh?"

Silence

"You don't like me do you?"

No kidding!

"Did she tell you everything?"

"She didn't have to. I saw the text. Who is she?"

"Nobody. A mistake." Brother-in-law sighed "I went a bit crazy when Sean showed up."

"Sean? You see your old friend and suddenly you feel like cheating?"

What a prick? That doesn't even make sense!

"She didn't tell you did she?"

"Tell me what?"

"That Sean showed up and demanded to see Nephew."

"Why would he do that?"

Honestly Brother-in-law must have some messed up friends. Imagine me running over to Bimbo's demanding to see Baby Girl.

Brother-in-law was quiet for a while.

"I need to speak to my wife." He said finally. "Please, I know you're angry with me, but you don't know the full story."

He sounded upset. Not upset in a guilty way. I expected him to cry down the phone and beg, but he didn't. He sounded, well tired. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"I'll tell her you called."

"Thank you. Elise, can I speak to my son?" Brother-in-law's voice broke a little.

I'm not a bitch. Of course he could speak to Nephew. I stood in the doorway while Nephew told him about the last few days. He'd beaten me and Solicitor on Wii Bowling. Grandmama had shown him how to paint 'properly'.

We they'd hung up I put Alvin and the Chipmunks on for Nephew and went in search of my sister.

I waited in the spare room for her to emerge from the shower. Half and hour later she walked in, looking like a drowned animal. Her hair dripped water everywhere. Instead of getting ready she flopped down on the bed and rolled over to her side. She looked depressed. Like a walking zombie.

"What's the deal with Sean?" I asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Your husband called."

I heard a choking sound. Oh my God, she was... yes. Tears! Sister was crying.

Not just crying. Sobbing. Quietly at first. But then it got louder.

I threw my arms around her. He hair was soaking through my top, but I didn't care. After five days, she was finally letting go. The heeling could begin. Or the pain. Either way I was there.

She cried for a long time. Nephew came up while she was sobbing. He looked so worried, my heart almost broke.

"Why is mummy crying?" He asked curiously.

"Do you mind doing me a favour, babe? Can you take my camera and take some pictures of the garden?"

It was the first thing that came into my head! I told him that I needed at least a hundred photos of the plants and insects for my work. He didn't believe me, but he went anyway. I hope he didn't break the camera.

Once Sister had calmed down I told her again to call Brother-in-law. As much as I was dying to know the situation with Sean, Sister needed to speak with Brother-in-law.

Sean's probably some psychopath. You come across people like that all the time. They leave for years and come back demanding to restore a friendship.

I had a friend called Karen that did that to me once. We were best friends at 16 and her family moved to Enfield. She came back for a visit a few months later and got a bit pissed off because I invited Vicky too. She went mad and told me to go and spend my life with Vicky since I don't care about her anymore.

I didn't really speak to her much after that. I heard through the grapevine that she shaved her hair and started seeing a girl called Jen. Vicky told me she always thought Karen was in love with me.

Maybe Sean's gay. He might have tried it on with Brother-in-law and Brother-in-law had to try and prove how straight he was by sleeping with another woman. Maybe Sean left him no choice! Oh my God! Maybe the text was meant for Sean. That's horrible!

No tears yet

2009-05-11T14:50:00.003+01:00

No tears yet.

Solicitor called me at around 7pm on Friday. I was at Bimbo's planning our children's wedding (if one of us has a boy and the other has a girl they'll fall in love and get married).

"You have to come home. Now."

So I drove home. I was surprised to see a load of Tesco shopping bags piled up in the hallway. I looked at Solicitor questioningly and he shrugged. Nephew bounced out of the living room, as happy as punch, and threw himself into my arms.

"I'm staying here!" He squealed happily.

"She's upstairs in the spare room." Solicitor told me, referring to Sister. I dropped a quick kiss on Nephew's head and jogged upstairs.

Sister was lying in the fetus position. Staring. My heart dropped. Had something happened to Mother? Or Stepfather? Sister was in complete shock, I'd never seen her like this before.

I carefully sat on the bed, preparing myself for some awful news.

"I've left him." She quietly whispered.

Left Brother-in-law?? That's ridiculous. Sister and Brother-in-law were like apples and pears. Actually Sister is like an apple, she's practical, appealing, and healthy. Brother-in-law is a pear. The type of fruit you forget is in the fruit bowl. Not the crunchy type of pear, the soft weird tasting pear.

Brother-in-law is boring. I forget that he's even in the room sometimes. He's not exactly the heart of a party. But Sister loves him. They wear matching anoraks and they go on nature walks together. They plant herbs in the garden. Why on earth would she leave him? He's so.... reliable.

Sister didn't say anything for a long time after she told me she'd left him. She's not the type of person to gush out all of her feelings. She'd prefer to think first. So I decided to unpack her suitcase.

The spare room is normally my dress room. The closet is full of beautiful I've-only-worn-this-once dresses. I pushed my gorgeous gowns across the rail and began hanging up Sister's clothes. Her clothes look the same. Shapeless, colourless. I swear Sister thinks the only reason for clothes is to keep warm and protect modesty.

I've tried to help her but she just smiles and says "I can't be bothered with looking nice. It's not practical." True. That's what happens when you chose to live in the country. But you can get all sorts of wellington boots nowadays. I bought her a pair of red ones with white spots. She nearly had a heart attack. She thought they looked slutty!

So, I hung up her two pairs of blue BHS jeans and folded up her pastel T-shirts. Other than that she had a bunch of underwear which I'd stuffed into the top draw. I'd just started unpacking Nephew's clothes, when she spoke again.

"He's seeing someone else."

I dropped Nephew's Sponge-Bob pajamas. How the hell could Brother-in-law be seeing someone? I'm surprised someone even noticed him. Maybe Sister got it wrong. There's no way he has the guts to speak to another woman let alone cheat.

"I was loading the car in the Tesco car park when he text me a message that was meant for her."

That explains the Tesco bags. I climbed onto the bed and laced my hand through hers.

"I picked up Nephew and packed. I didn't know what else to do." She gripped my hand. "Can I stay here?"

I hugged her, expecting her to cry. She didn't. She stiffened her body and carried on staring.

"Do you want to see the message?" She pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Hey Sexy, I need to see you. I miss you. Same place tonight?xox

I felt anger rise in me. How could he do this to her? What a fucking loser. If I was in her position I would be plotting his murder, screaming at him, demanding to know every little detail.

But Sister's not like me. She'd rather bottle up all of her feelings. She didn't know anything about the other woman, only that she existed. I offered to track her down and 'take care of her', after all that's what family is for. Sister smiled. A small smile, but it was there. She shook her head and asked for some Nytol.

"Why didn't I see it happening?" She whispered as she dropped off. Tears stung my eyes. My big sister was hurting so much and I didn't know what to do to help her. I got into bed with her and held her until I was sure she was asleep.

I went downstairs and made some decaf tea. Solicitor and I spoke quietly in the kitchen. Although Nephew was asleep on the sofa, we couldn't take any chances of him hearing us.

Solicitor came home from work and found Sister sitting in her car staring. He managed to get her to come into the house and he unloaded the car. The frozen food had completely thawed out and needed to be thrown away. Apparently she stood in the living room doorway for a long time in complete shock. He's surprised she managed to drive down.

Neither of us can believe that Brother-in-law could do that to her. They seemed so happy. The worse thing was that he hadn't even bothered to call her. He didn't have the guts. The spineless piece of shit.

I cried. I'm not sure why exactly. Sister should be the one crying. But I couldn't bare the pain that she was going through.

It's now Monday. Solicitor and I decided that Sister should stay as long as she needs to. I called Nephew's school and told them that he'd be absent for the remainder of the week. We'll sort something out by then. Sister hasn't moved from the spare room since Friday. She hasn't cried yet.

Shitface hasn't even called yet. I'm inches away from grabbing my car keys and driving up to see him. Ask him what the fuck he thinks he's doing to his wife and child. Ask him why he hasn't called.

Using Sex To Get Your Way

2009-05-07T13:10:00.003+01:00

Sometimes a woman has to use sex to get her way. It seems to work for me on most occasions.

Last night I hadn't bothered cooking. I'd spent all day curled on the sofa reading a Sidney Sheldon book that I bought years ago but never had the time to read. It was only when I heard Solicitor's key in the front door that I stood up and thought "Crap!"

Before he opened the front door a made a quick run for the stairs. I didn't have time to choose and outfit so I simply stripped down to my thong and slipped into a pair of heels.

"Elise?" He called.

"I'm up here." I called back.

"What are we having for dinner? I'm starving."

"Come up." I call again.

Silence.

"No I'll wait down here."

Crap. It's not going to work this time.

"Come up, I've missed you."

Silence.

"You haven't cooked have you?"

Nope.

"I was thinking we should work up an appetite first." I stepped down the stairs and grinned at him. "But if you're not in the mood, I'll go and cook."

Solicitor smiled.

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry." He ran a gently hand down my cheek (I'm not telling you which one). "What are you planning on cooking?"

"Whatever you want."

He nodded. "I was kind of hoping for stake." He dropped a quick kiss on my forehead. "Thanks babe." And he casually walked up the stairs.

Okay. It wasn't working this time. I was hoping he'd say something on the lines of "Let's order in." or "Oh since you haven't started cooking, let's go out." But noooo. My darling partner can resist a naked woman in heels and a thong.

Let's see for how long.

I poured him a cold beer and placed it so very nicely on the kitchen counter, and slipped on my apron. I love my apron, it's cotton 50's style with printed strawberries. Hopefully Solicitor will like it too. After all, the colour and trimming is perfect for a naked woman....

Right. Dinner. I began peeling the potatoes. I completely engrossed myself in cooking. Once I get started I quite like it. I didn't even hear Solicitor enter the kitchen.

"Carling?" He said sipping the beer.

I jumped and gave a little yelp.

"You snuck up on me!" I cried.

Solicitor laughed. "No I didn't. You just remembered how much you like cooking for your man."

"Uh huh. And that's the only thing I'm going to be doing for my man tonight." I huffed.

I jumped again when he walked behind me and slid his hand up my back. His hand was cold from the beer glass and I gasped.

"Is that a fact?" He kissed my bare shoulder. I dropped my potato peeler and leaned back onto him.

Sigh. Sometimes I'm shocked that I ended up with him. That he chose to be with me. He's absolutely gorgeous. And sexy. And I love the way he bites my neck like that. Right at my pulse. And-

"Do you mind making an apple crumble for dessert?"

"Yes!"

Hold on. What?

"Thanks babe."

No. No, that wasn't supposed to happen.

Solicitor leaned against the counter casually and sipped his beer.

"Chelsea, Barcelona tonight. Think you can be done by kick off?"

Hold on. The football? He's talking about football. There's absolutely no way I'm making an apple crumble for him. How dare he?

He absently trailed his fingers over my hips. I wonder if we have any cinnamon...? No Stop! Get a grip.

"Do you want to have sex?"

Oh my God! Why was I asking him? He was supposed to ask me! That was the plan.

"Sure. After the game." He sipped his beer and grinned. "And if the crumble's good enough of course."

My Own Stupidity

2009-05-05T14:24:00.004+01:00

I had the house to myself on Saturday and enthusiastically used the time to spring clean the kitchen. I defrosted the fridge and the freezer, descaled the kettle, emptied and thoroughly cleaned every draw and cupboard.

Solicitor was at a football match with his brother and cousin. I'm not one to come between a man and his sport. I was more than happy to stay at home and sing at the top of my lungs while cleaning.

Hours later I filled all of the tea cups and coffee mugs with boiling water and lemon to bleach them and I went for a well deserved bath. I was seriously tired and planned to spend the remainder of the day watching Disney's Pixar set with a nice cup of hot chocolate. When I finally emerged from the bathroom I had a shock of my life.

There was somebody else in the house with me. I heard shuffling around downstairs. It couldn't be Solicitor. His mother would never have used her spare key. She has it for emergencies only.

"Hello?" I called.

"Hi!"

I almost fell down the stairs when Aimee emerged from the kitchen with a big smile on her face.

"What are you doing?"

"I knocked, but you didn't answer." She explained shrugging.

"How did you get in?" I slowly descended the stairs.

"Key." She held up her keyring.

"We changed the locks."

"Yeah I know. You didn't change the back door ones though."

I felt a shiver run through my body. What the hell was she doing sneaking into the house through the back door?

"Wow I haven't been here in so long." She said looking around with interest. "You've changed a lot."

"Why are you here?" I tried again.

"You didn't answer my calls." She smiled. "I called so many times. You changed your landline. I guess both of you blocked me from your mobiles."

Yeah for a fucking good reason! I wanted to scream.

"You look awful." She frowned. "Are you ill?"

Just scared.

"Aimee, you can't just walk into this house."

"Yes I can. It belongs to my ex husband. He bought it before he met you."

Aimee has always been a messed up druggy. I've never known her to be bitchy. I was seriously taken back by her comment, and for once, I didn't know what to say. What she said hurt. It was my home. Aimee had never lived in it.

I gripped the banister and suppressed my urge to cry.

"You have to leave." I told her firmly.

She looked at me with bright hurt eyes. "I need your help." She said quietly. "I wouldn't have come otherwise. I need some money."

What? She owns a bloody place opposite Battersea Park for crying out loud! Her address says "Mansions" in it.

I told her, as politely as I could, to leave. She didn't. She insisted that she would wait for Solicitor. She strolled back into the living room as if she owned the house. She looked around with interest.

"Why have you got a pair of booties on the mantelpiece?" She asked.

I didn't answer.

"Oh I see."

She picked them up and traced the lace on the with her fingertips. I wanted to grab them from her. She had no right to touch them.

"Has he proposed yet?" She asked searching my hand with her eyes. "He proposed to me as soon as he found out I was pregnant."

My head spun wildly and I slowly sank into the sofa. She's just trying to make you feel jealous, I told myself.

"Funny. Has he even mentioned marriage?" She laughed. "I guess not. Wow you must feel like you're second best."

This isn't like her. She's normally a nice person. Why is she saying those things?

Suppressing tears is hard when you're pregnant. It take a lot of energy.

"Leave." I told her again. "Leave or I'll call the police."

She looked at me for a while. "I guess you need to be alone." She nodded sympathetically. "I'll come back later."

"Give me your key."

"No. It's my key. I thought you were a nice person Elise, I really did. We could have been really good friends. But friends don't cut each other off. Friends don't try and take people away from each other. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to call? He used to answer. He used to be there for me. When he stopped you acted like you cared. But you only did it so you could slowly pull away didn't you?"

I started crying. I did care about her. I went every time she called me and told me that she'd taken something and that she thought she was going to die. I cleaned up her puke. I flushed all of her drugs. How could she say I didn't care.

"You're so bloody selfish! Both of you."

Yes. We were selfish. We wanted a normal life. Where Aimee didn't exist.

I looked at the thin beautiful woman in front of me and realised that she felt betrayed. That she snuck into the house through desperation. That she was too desperate to leave us alone. And that even if she left now she would come back.

She did leave. After a long outburst and an accusing speech, she left me alone. I curled up on the sofa and cried myself to sleep.

Solicitor woke me up later. It was dark outside. I must have been asleep for a good six hours. He looked concerned. He told me that I felt hot and that I needed to wake up and drink some water.
The memory of Aimee came flooding back. I stayed where I was, too upset to move, and told him about her letting herself into the house. Solicitor was furious. He called a locksmith straight away and then called Aimee. He stalked about as he told her never to pull a stupid stunt like that again. I didn't quiet register the converstaion. It began to sound blurry after a while.

I felt a mild cramp in my stomach while he was on the phone followed by an intense dizzy spell. I sat incredibly still and prayed that it would go away. It didn't. I felt a sharp stab and screwed my hands into tight fists, feeling absolutely terrified.

"I don't feel good." I said when he finally hung up. Solicitor froze when he saw my face. He looked as scared as I felt. I stood up slowly. The last thing I remembered was feeling my legs crumple beneath me.

I was dehydrated and over stressed. I was lucky. I don't care how upset I am, in future I will make sure that I look after myself. I should have drunk some water. In fact I don't actually remember drinking anything besides a glass of orange juice that morning. I would never have forgiven myself if anything happened to the baby through my own stupidity.

Sunday Lunch

2009-04-29T15:19:00.003+01:00

Grandmama is the best at indirectly causing a family stir. Sunday was no different.

Every so often she invites the whole family over for dinner; Mother & Stepfather, Father & Lady-Friend, Sister, Brother-in-law and Nephew, Solicitor and Me. In most cases some of us can't make it.

Mother and Stepfather tend to cancel more than the others. I don't think Mother's quite gotten over the fact that Grandmama loves my Father like her own son, and that she never took sides during my parents divorce.

Sunday was a rare occasion when we were all present. Solicitor thought it would be an ideal opportunity to tell everybody about the baby. In theory, it's ideal. In practice... well...

"I've got something that I want to say to everyone." I said smiling.

"You're pregnant." Grandmama stated. "I know, darling, it's quite obvious." She smiled across the table and nodded knowingly.

It wasn't so obvious to my mother. The shock, followed by mortification, was so apparent.

"My God!" She glared at me furiously. "How can you embarrass yourself like that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Have you no shame, Elise? Pregnant out of wedlock!"

"Please." My Father cut in rather dryly. "You have no right to talk about shame."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Mother shot back at him.

"You actually want me to talk about it then?" Father raised his eyebrows.

"Enough!" Grandmama slammed down her wine glass.

A few moments of silence passed.

"Congratulations." Brother-in-law supplied awkwardly.

Sister leaned across the table and gripped my hand.

Another few moments of silence.

"I can't believe you just blurted it out without even speaking to me first!" Mother hissed.

I felt my cheeks flush with rage.

"With you?" I asked incredulously. "You're the last person I would have told if I decided to tell everyone separately."

Mother clanged down her cutlery.

"Elise..." Sister whispered, half warning, half pleading.

"It's not like you've been a model mother." I carried on spitefully. It was childish but she made me so angry.

"I did what I thought was right." Mother said stiffly.

"Having an affair and pissing off?" Father nodded thoughtfully. "Yep, sounds like you thought about it."

The entire table stilled. I suddenly felt cold.

"That's enough!" Grandmama shouted standing up. "It's in the past." She glared at Mother and Father. "In the past!" She repeated with emphasis. She slowly and gracefully sat down.

A few moments of reflective silence passed. Grandmama was right. It was so far back in the past it shouldn't have ever been brought up.

"Are you having a baby, Aunt Elise?" Nephew asked curiously.

"Yes, babe." I answered smiling, thinking of the little person inside.

"Why is everyone angry?"

"Eat your carrots." Sister snapped.

"I don't like carrots!" Nephew moaned. "Dad, do I have to eat the carrots?"

"No, eat what you can." Brother-in-law said kindly.

"Thanks." Sister said sarcastically. "You're supposed to back me up."

"What do you want me to do?" Brother-in-law whispered. Sister threw him a look. "Fine! You're mother told you to eat you're carrots."

Nephew sat back in him chair. "No."

"Wonderful!" Sister glared at Brother-in-law. "You deal with him."

"So how did you know Elise was pregnant?" Stepfather asked Grandmama suddenly. He bit his lip as soon as te words left his mouth. It was obvious he was trying to make conversation but said the wrong thing.

"She's got a glow." Lady-Friend smiled warmly. "I thought there was something new about her."

"And how many pregnant women do you know?" Mother snapped.

"I don't want my carrots!" Nephew yelled.

I buried my face in my hands.

"Do you want ice-cream?" Solicitor asked Nephew. "Eat your carrots first and you can come and help me dish it out."

"The first logical thing I've heard all night." Grandmama beamed at Solicitor. "Top up my glass, dear boy. It looks like it's going to be a long day."

Crazy Evening

2009-04-24T15:28:00.004+01:00

I was in the middle of peeling potatoes last night when Solicitor arrived home from work. He normally loosens his tie and casually shrugs out of his jacket before walking about the house in search of me, so it was a bit of a surprise when he stalked into the kitchen, slamming the door open.

My hand slipped and I accidentally cut the palm of my hand with the knife.

"Hi honey, why don't you try that again. Maybe next time I'll sever my wrist." I sarcastically drawled. The cut was pretty minimal but it stung like hell.

"Sorry. I need to talk to you."

I silently held my bleeding hand under cold water. Whatever he had to say could wait a couple of minutes. I was still pretty angry with him for blowing up about the meeting in Riyadh.

"Elise!"

"Yes, I'm coming! Give me a second to stop my hand from bleeding will you."

He stalked out of the kitchen. There was definitely something bothering him. I pressed a sheet of kitchen town into my hand and followed him into the living room.

"What's up?" I asked casually.

The cat chose that moment to spring up onto Solicitor's arm. Solicitor instinctively shook his arm free and sent the cat flying off.

"What the hell is wrong with the cat?!"

Oh yeah. I forgot.

"I haven't fed her."

"What? Why?"

"I can't open her tin of cat food without puking." I explained. It's such an odd feeling. As soon as I get a whiff of her food, my body seems to go into hyper rejection. "So what did you want to talk about?"

The cat trotted back to Solicitor and rubbed her face against his ankle. She moaned and yelped desperately.

The fire alarm suddenly shrilled loudly. Crap! The grill!

I ran towards the kitchen and pulled open the door. The smoke from the grill fogged the room in a haze and the smell hit me like a bullet. I turned and smacked straight into Solicitor.

"I'm going to be sick!" I moaned.

I knew I wouldn't make the bathroom so I turned and swiftly unlocked the back door. I ran towards across the patio and coughed into the flower bed. I felt so weak and tired and so damn pissed off that I couldn't control it.

Solicitor joined me a few minutes later with a cool wet towel. He pressed it against my forehead and I leaned back on him. So tried.

"I've thrown dinner out. I guess we'll be ordering in tonight." He kissed the top of my head. "You okay?"

He helped me back into the house and up to the bathroom. The nice thing about Solicitor is that he knows what to do to make me feel better. He always has. He switched the shower onto a cooler setting and left me alone.

An hour later, feeling much better, I found him sitting on the sofa watching television.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked as I snuggled up to him.

The doorbell rang. I pulled my robe tightly around my body. Who could that-

"Pizza." Solicitor sprang up and reached for his wallet.

The smell of pepperoni made my stomach churn. Before Solicitor had even brought the boxes into the living room, I bolted up to the bathroom.

Isn't morning sickness supposed to be in the morning?!

I couldn't make it back downstairs. I cleaned my teeth for the thousandth time and crawled into bed. I pretty much fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Hours later I was woken by Solicitor slipping into bed beside me. I snuggled up to him.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "What did you want to talk about?"

He kissed me head.

"It doesn't matter. Go to sleep and we'll talk tomorrow."

"Is it bad?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"No babe. It's not bad."

"Is it about Riyadh?" I asked hopefully.

"No."

"Tell me."

"We'll talk tomorrow."

I wonder what it is. I've been bouncing about all day today. I've called him seven times and I've sent him a few emails (about fifteen). He's not letting on. Maybe he's found a cure for morning sickness! I would love him forever if he did.

Human Rights and Male Ego

2009-04-22T15:47:00.005+01:00

Why do guys turn into complete pricks?

Trust me I'm not hormonal, I'm just angry.

Yesterday morning I got in touch with an old business associate. Now this guy is a genius, and if I could associate myself with his company it would definitely kick start my slow starting business.
As you can imagine, I switched on my sweet professional voice and convinced him to agree to a meeting.

The only problem is that he doesn't live in the UK. He lives somewhere I have never ventured to before.

A quick weekend trip didn't seem like a bad idea. It doesn't take too long to fly there, it's out of Europe so I could stock up on duty free... There was one problem.

When Solicitor returned from work I sat down with him and told him that I wanted to ask him something.

"I've got a new business meeting. A really good prospect."

"That's good. Who with?"

"An old associate. The thing is... I'm going to have to travel abroad to see him."

Solicitor frowned.

"Where?"

"Riyadh."

Have you ever felt icy coldness run down your spine? Solicitor froze. I could practically feel the ice that ran through his blood. His reaction was expected. I sat still, feeling very much like a child asking her parent if it's okay to take drugs.

Solicitor shook his head, clenching his fists.

"No fucking way."

"Look I-"

He sprang up from the sofa, blazing in fury.

"What kind of a business associate invites a woman to Saudi? You're not going. There's no fucking way you're going there alone."

"That's what I wanted to ask you. I'm not allowed to travel alone out there. I think it's against the law. I need you to come with me."

"We are not going to Saudi. They'll take one look at our passports, see we're not married and God knows what will happen to you. I'm not risking it."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"You think I'm being dramatic?" He began pacing the room. "Okay. You do know that you're not allowed to have any flesh what so ever on display there don't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"That's including your face, your hands."

"I know-"

"You're not permitted to go anywhere without a male escort."

"That's why I wanted you to-"

"You're not allowed to wear a fucking seat belt in a car! I will not have you risking your life for a fucking business meeting with some shithead."

"Be reasonable-"

"Reasonable?! Are you taking the piss? You think it's reasonable to be lashed as part of punishment? Because trust me, Elise, you step one foot wrong and they will not hesitate to do something like that."

"So I won't do anything wrong."

Solicitor laughed bitterly.

"Okay, what happens if you get ill, huh? Something goes wrong. You're pregnant for fucks sake."

"I'm sure there are doctors-"

"Darling, you won't be able to see one without a permission slip signed by, let me see, a male member of your family. And before you try to say something, I don't count!"

He ranted for hours. He flung out reasons why the plan was so damn off the mark, I must have some kind of mental issue for even considering it. He paced about swearing at the business associate who must be some kind of sick twisted fuck for expecting me to go there.

I retaliated. I told him that my one chance of a break would be on hold because he's too damn set in his way to even bother to listen. That I'd travelled to the middle east before. I'd been to Bahrain, Dubai, Damascus and the human rights laws are deeply exaggerated by the media.

In the end he won. He's a lawyer. He calmed down and pulled up evidence for his cause, including a list of laws and punishments. Did you know that a male can murder any female member of his family and get away with it out there? A woman can not drive. She can not go anywhere without an escort.

I think it's bollocks. It's illegal to do many things, but is it truly put into practice? If you do your best to follow the law I don't see how it could be "dangerous" to go there. People live there for crying out loud!

I resorted to calling my father. I explained the situation slowly and calmly.

Okay that was a lie. I spilled everything out as fast as I could and begged and pleaded with him to come with me. I was desperate.

"No! Solicitor is right. You are not going. I don't care if I have to tie you down myself"

Damn him!

"I'll take away your passport if I have to!"

What the fuck?! Saudi was supposed to have the human rights issues. Not Solicitor and my Father. Maybe its just men in general. Stupid men.

I called my associate this morning and told him that my partner can not accompany me so we'll have to make other arrangements. I didn't say much more than that be he knew what had happened.

"Elise, Riyadh is not as bad as people think." He sighed. "I understand you're dilemma, I really do. We'll have to put our meeting on hold until the Autumn if you can not fly here. I'll return to the UK then and we can rearrange a time."

Great. Just great. I can kiss goodbye to my glimmer of hope. I feel like crying! Am I being hormonal? Do the guys in my life have a point? Or was I completely cheated?

Gift Wrapped

2009-04-20T16:41:00.002+01:00

Stoner leaned over the coffee table and studied the little box.

"Yeah, it's perfect."

I smiled and began wrapping the box. I'm not great with wrapping presents. For some reason I always manage to rip the corners. Sellotape is used liberally, and one ends always ends up with more wrapping paper than the other. I have to make an extra fold to stick it down.

"Don't tell Bimbo." I whispered glancing up at the door to make sure she hadn't arrived. "She'll start crying or do something else dramatic. In fact, don't tell anyone."

Saturday afternoon was bright and sunny. I invited Stoner and Bimbo over for the day. Solicitor went to the pub with a few of his friends to watch the football. Stoner arrived first. I purposely asked him to be there early because I had something to show him and I needed his advice.

"Holy shit!" was pretty much his reaction.

I felt a flutter of nerves.

"This is big isn't it?" I asked him

"Yep."

When a big moment takes place in life it often makes people think of the bigger picture. When you graduate from education you suddenly realise that the world is you oyster. That there are many different career paths. That you are now a fully qualified adult.

I tend to think of stupid little things. When I graduated from university the first thing I realised was "I won't get discount at HMV anymore."

Because of my warped mind I needed a logical friend to give me some logical advice. Stoner is my pillar of logic. The voice of reason. The one person that I can rely on to say something that will bring perspective.

"I don't know what to say."

Oh my God! That's it. It was a bad idea.

"You think he'll hate the idea."

Stoner's eyes widened in surprise. "It's only an idea?!"

"The present." I said patiently. "The actual meaning is real. Don't you think it's cute?"

"Right..." He slowly nodded.

"Yeah, it's a good idea." He paused. "Cute."

"Check out the colours." I said enthusiastically. "You like?"

He leaned over the coffee table and peered into the box.

"Yeah, it's perfect."

Solicitor arrived home later that night to a candle lit dinner for two. I'd changed into the little black dress that he loves and I stood by the table nervously biting my bottom lip. He smiled when he saw my efforts.

"Wow. Something smells good."

"Thai." I said as he gently kissed me.

"Nope. You."

My knees buckled slightly as he nuzzled at my neck.

"I've got a present for you." I told him pointing at the badly wrapped box on the table.

Solicitor frowned.

"Did I forget some kind of anniversary?" He asked.

"Just open it."

When he picked up the box I sank into my chair. He took his time peeling off the sellotape. Why couldn't he just rip the wrapping paper? I wanted to scream in frustration.

When he finally peeled off enough tape to open one side of the wrapping, I panicked and jumped to my feet. My arm clumsily knocked my glass of orange juice onto the floor.

"Fuck!"

My fingers shook as I bent down to pick up the glass.

"What's wrong with you?" Solicitor asked squatting beside me holding my wrists.

"Just open the present, will you!" I snapped back.

"Okay..."

He pulled the wrapping off and stared. Silently. God, please say something, I begged.

"Is this...?"

I nodded.

"Are you...?"

I nodded again.

He placed the box of tiny baby booties on the table and pulled me into his arms.

Easter/ Family Weekend

2009-04-09T14:40:00.003+01:00

As Easter weekend approaches, family woes kick in.

Solicitor and I are on speaking terms. Last night I cooked him a nice meal and apologised as soon as he walked through the door. He didn't say much, he just nodded. Things aren't right yet, but they will be. I will speak to him properly tonight and tell him what happened and why.

We decided to spend Easter weekend separately. Mother and Stepfather invited me and Sister to their home. It's the first time in years that we'd be there at the same time.

It takes me back to the days when I was in my late teens and Sister was planning her wedding. Mother, Sister and I picked out hundreds of pictures of dresses, cakes, flowers etc and presented them to Stepfather along with price tags. His hair practically fell out during that weekend!

Solicitor planned to spend the weekend with his very large and loud family. His mother was of course upset that her "new daughter in law" wasn't coming. I love that about his family. They welcomed me into their arms with no questions. When I pointed out that Solicitor and I are not married or even engaged, his mother laughed and said "You don't need a piece of paper or a ring to prove that you are man and wife, I can see it in your hearts."

This morning, Mother called.

"Hi Elise, I've got some news."

"What news?"

Please don't say something sick like your pregnant.... That would be awful!

"Well you remember my cousin Tommy, don't you?"

No

"Well Tommy's daughter Marlene is getting married and we're invited to the engagement party."

"Okay. Should I bring a formal dress with me?"

Pause

"Darling, you haven't been invited."

Pause

"Oh okay. What day is it?"

"It's a weekend thing... In Scotland."

"You and Stepfather going to Scotland?"

Pause

"I'm sorry darling, I know you and your sister were looking forward to this weekend."

"It's fine."

"Darling?"

"Honestly, Mother it's fine. Have a good time."

When I hung up I felt like crying. It sounds so stupid, but I felt so angry at her. Angry because I miss her. Ever since I was young I was always craving her attention. She left me to live with Grandmama when I was 13 and moved out of the city with Stepfather. I spent all of my weekends with them but it wasn't the same.

For a few moments I sat on the sofa cradling the phone in my hands. I could spend the weekend with Solicitor I suppose. Or I could call Sister and we could do something together.

I called Father.

"What's wrong?" He answered.

I've only ever called him during emergencies.

"Nothing. I just felt like talking."

He paused.

"Right."

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"You're mother cancelled on you."

"Yeah."

I felt a giant lump in my throat.

"Do you fancy spending some time with me? Lady-Friend wants to get to know you better."

"I don't want to impose."

"Elise, I wanted you to be with me this weekend. You're mother got there first."

"Really?"

"Yes. Why don't you come by tomorrow night and we can have dinner and talk. Just the two of us."

"What about Lady-Friend?"

"I'll ask her to wait until Saturday. I need some alone time with you."

"Thanks. Dad...?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Arguments and Laxatives

2009-04-08T16:06:00.003+01:00

Solicitor and I are not speaking. We had a huge argument last night.

Brother-In-Law dropped by last night with his new girlfriend. She's great. Swift thinking with a sharp wit. We got on like a house on fire.

Brother-In-Law brought up the conversation about bulimia. He'd seen a thin girl purchasing three boxes of laxatives and couldn't believe the shop attendant sold them to her without questioning her.

"A shop attendant can't question someone about their purchases." Girlfriend laughed. "If some guy bought three bottles of lube the guy wouldn't question him about his personal habits. This is no different."

"Yes it is." Brother-In-Law argued. "Laxatives are dangerous. Lube isn't."

We argued about the moral obligation of the shop attendant for a while before the subject shifted to the actual eating disorder.

"I don't understand why someone would do that to themselves." Brother-In-Law said shaking his head in disgust. "You don't even lose weight doing it."

"It's not about losing weight." I argued. "It's about feeling that you have."

Solicitor and Brother-In-Law looked skeptical. Girlfriend nodded.

"I think I understand what your saying." She said slowly. "Some days you feel fatter than others, regardless of how much you weigh."

"Exactly. Laxatives just makes you feel good." I paused. "I'm assuming." I added.

The conversation soon shifted onto another subject.

When Brother-In-Law and Girlfriend left Solicitor studied me seriously.

"I didn't realise you had an eating disorder." He said quietly.

"I don't." I retorted. "Why the hell would you think that? Have I ever said no to food?"

"I didn't say you have, I said you had."

"You don't know what your talking about. Just because I understand the other side of the fence, it doesn't mean I've been there." I argued angrily. "I have an A-level in psychology, remember? I learnt a little about the disorder."

Solicitor was quiet for a while.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

I lost my temper.

"I don't have a problem and I never have had one!" I shouted. "What's you're problem? Just because your ex wife is fucked up it doesn't mean that I am."

"Aimee has got nothing to do with this." He bit out angrily. "This is about you."

I shouldn't have mentioned Aimee. I could tell that I hit a nerve and I should have stopped there.

"Are you sure this isn't about you?" I said defiantly. "You're marriage failed because she was a smack head. Looking for a problem with me?"

Solicitor lost his temper and slammed his fist against the door frame.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" he yelled

"Nothing!" I screamed "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I asked you one fucking question and you've lost your mind! You're acting like a psychopath."

"Leave me alone." I shouted slamming the bedroom door in his face.

He left me alone. He slept in the spare room. I didn't sleep all night. I kept staring at the door hoping that he would come back. But he never did.

This morning I heard him get up for work. Instead of waking up and making him breakfast I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.

I haven't called him all day and now I can't stop thinking about it.

I'm not angry at him, I'm angry at me. I said some horrible things. He was right I acted like a psychopath.

I don't have a problem. I have enough self confidence and I'm actually happy with my image. But when I was 14 it was a different story. It wasn't that serious. I didn't make myself terribly ill. I'd call it a phase that I went through, a way of dealing with some things.

I haven't told Solicitor about it. I guess deep down I'm really afraid. I know it's against all logical thought, but I'm worried that he'll think I'm like Aimee.

He'll be late home today. He text me earlier:

Got a meeting at 6. Be home after that.

I guess he's still angry. He normally leaves a kiss at the end of texts.

Using the Sofa

2009-04-06T10:31:00.003+01:00

It started out like a normal Saturday.

Bimbo and I decided to do some window shopping. Bimbo loves taking Baby Girl out shopping, she can hook all of her shopping bags on the handles of the pram.

We've changed our usual routine. Bimbo and I used to spend hours trying on clothes in TopShop but now we stop, look and grab. Having a baby around expands the shopping world even further. We now spend time in every department at John Lewis, Women's Clothes and Shoes (for obvious reasons), Men's Clothes (gifts for Solicitor and Pierce), Home and Furniture (you never know what you'll find! It's like disneyland!), and the Children Section (for darling Baby Girl).

So, Bimbo and I were trying out Furniture at John Lewis (Bimbo was feeding Baby Girl her milk on one of the large sofas), when a sales guy decides to offer his advice.

Blah blah blah Money Back Guarantee blah blah blah Three Years Interest Free blah blah blah If you purchase today you'll receive Free Insurance

Bimbo stared up at him, her large blue eyes filling up with tears.

"I'm sorry, there's just nowhere to feed her!"

The sales guy stopped and stared.

"I can't buy the sofa!" Bimbo cried "That's what you want, don't you? You think I've used it don't you?"

I open my mouth.

And then shut it again.

The sales guy did the same.

"I'm sorry, I thought you needed help with buying." He stammered. He shot me a quick look of apology before practically running away.

I put a gentle arm around Bimbo and asked her what was wrong.

I'm used to Bimbo crying. She does it quite often when she's facing huge issues. Like the time that she had a sip of wine when she was pregnant and she thought she was a bad mother. And the time that she accidentally posted a letter without checking to see if she had the right amount of stamps on it.

"So... um... are you okay?"

"No I'm not!" She cried. The couple checking out the big red sofa looked up at us in surprise. They looked away swiftly and gave each other a look.

Bimbo carried on, oblivious to the attention that she's caught.

"I can't handle it. I've only shaved one leg and I can't sleep!"

Baby Girl choked on her milk and started wailing. A high pitched baby scream.

"Okay." I said quietly, taking Baby Girl into my arms. "It's okay. Let's go and... and... get out of here. Let's go get some coffee."

"I can't!" Bimbo whispered, tears running down her cheek. "I'm breast feeding. I'm not allowed coffee."

"Okay you can have hot chocolate." I said desperately. "You like hot chocolate."

Bimbo gulped. "Okay."

"Okay, good, lets go."

She can't sleep because she only shaved one leg??

We settled down in Costa with a Hot Chocolate and a Cappuccino. Bimbo's eyes had dried and she looked at me sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't handle it." She took a small sip of her drink and wiped the milk off of her lips with a napkin. "Baby Girl keeps me up all night. I can't even have a shower with the door closed anymore. I have to shave my legs in shifts. Every time she drifts off to sleep I can't sleep in case she stops breathing. I just can't, I just can't!"

Bimbo pulled the napkin to her eyes and began breathing jerkily. I reached out and gripped her hand.

"It's okay." I soothed. "It happens to all new parents. I'm sure Pierce's life has changed too."

"Yes but he goes to work. He only has a few hours of it." Bimbo's voice lowered dramatically. "I have to be awake all the time!"

"I'm home all the time. Just call me and I'll come over and help you." I smiled at her. "I'm here."

"I know." She blew her nose. "I was okay. Honestly I was fine. But now... What am I going to do with two?!"

I stared at her stunned.

"Oh my God! You're pregnant?"

Bimbo started crying... again.

"Yes. Pierce can't wait. He told me that the news has made him the happiest person."

I started laughing.

"Congratulations!"

Bimbo hiccuped.

"Th..thank you."

Solicitor was busy watching football on Sky Sports when I got home. I flopped down on the sofa with armfuls of shopping bags.

"Anything nice?" he asked absently.

"What's the score?" I asked in response.

He smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Bimbo's having another baby." I told him.

Solicitor paused. "That's good news." He said finally.

I nodded. "Yeah."

We watched the television for a few minutes.

"We should get our skates on if you want our kids to play with theirs." He said finally.

I laughed as he pulled me into his arms.

Women on Women

2009-03-30T17:02:00.003+01:00

Solicitor asked me an interesting question;

"Why do women make an extra effort to look good when they know they'll be in the company of other women?"

The question arose on Saturday night. We were meeting for dinner with a few of Solicitor's old university friends. Before getting ready I asked him if they were bringing their girlfriends.

"What difference does it make?"

It makes a big difference to the way I dress. For some strange reason I feel that I should make more of an effort if I'm going to be around women.

I should point out that I am not a lesbian.

But it did get me thinking. Do I make the extra effort due to the competitive side of my personality?

I don't think so. I don't spend longer on my make-up and choosing a dress so that I can look better than the other women. I don't get a buzz out of standing out amongst them. (Well not much of one anyway!)

Actually I feel the opposite. I feel better when I see that they too have made an extra effort. It's nice to see them dressed to please. It's nice to see evidence of a flawless hand in applying make-up.

When I see an unusual item of jewellery I compliment them. In fact many women compliment others within the first few seconds of meeting them.

Whilst we were out with Solicitor's friends and their girlfriends I brought up the subject.

One of the women flicked back her extra straight silky blond hair and said "Women are extraordinary creatures. We can blatantly look and admire each other. Being admired by a women is worth more than being admired by a man. And it works both ways. A woman's attraction to another woman is stronger than her attraction to another man."

The more I think about it, the more I can see the sense in what she said.

I have decorated my blog with pictures of Marlene Dietrich the 'original femme fatale'. Although I love Film Noir I didn't upload pictures of Humphrey Bogart or any other male actor. In fact I realised that the reason I love watching black and white films is because the women of that time period were classic, sexual, beauties. When watching them I feel a pull towards them. More than sexual. It's almost hypnotic.

Perhaps women who dress up for other women do it because they are seeking that kind of admiration. Perhaps that's why women can look at a picture of Angelina Jolie and not only understand that men find her attractive, but find her attractive themselves.

Honesty

2009-03-27T13:44:00.003Z

"Does my bum look big in this dress?"

"Yes."

I knew it! But Solicitor's truthful answer made me want to fling things at him.

My lip trembled and I gazed at him with wide eyes.

"Really?"

Please say no. I won't believe you, but it will make me feel better.

"Yes. It looks... Juicy."

"Juicy! You're saying I'm fat, aren't you? Admit it, you think I'm fat!"

Solicitor smiled and watched me parade around the room in distress.

"You're sexy when you're angry."

"Stop it!" I flung open the wardrobe. "Oh my God! I've got nothing to wear!"

I pulled out a series of dresses and discarded them on the floor.

"Just wear what you're wearing."

"You said my butt looks.... JUICY!!!"

"Yeah, in a good way. Sexy."

"No it makes it look big!"

"In a good way." He repeated

He stood up and walked behind me and grabbed my hips.

"Let's have sex."

"No!"

He kissed my neck. I always get turned on when he kisses my neck.

"The dress is perfect."

I shuddered as his hands moved up my skirt.

And half an hour later I pulled the skirt of the dress back down and quietly began applying my make-up.

"Don't bother doing your hair. We've got hours" He said casually unbuttoning his shirt. "Did I ever tell you that you have juicy breasts?"

I love this honesty thing!

Being A Man

2009-03-23T13:16:00.004Z

I met with Solicitor's brother early this morning. Brother-In-Law is an architect and the company he owns designs houses for the top house builders in the country. At the ripe old age of 32 Brother-In-Law is a millionaire.

In addition to his main company, he has shares and investments in other companies. So when it comes to starting my own company Brother-In-Law's advice is a great way to start.

I took my business plans along with me.

"Elise, this isn't going to be easy." He warned as he flicked through my perfectly arranged folder. "As far as industries go, this one has suffered the most in the current financial climate."

I nodded. I'm aware of the current situation. Solicitor trades with stocks and shares on a daily basis.

"The question is, do you enjoy this?" He asked.

"It's not about enjoying it, it's about believing in it."

I enjoy writing, but I don't believe that I will ever make a successful career from it.

He smiled.

"You hit the nail on the head."

We sat down with steamy mugs of tea.

"Do you have enough contacts? It's not what you know, it's who you know."

"I've got a database of over 1500." Carefully collected over the past year.

"New business model plans?"

"Yep, I've got 6." Narrowed down from 21.

"A nice suit?"

"Are you joking?" I have about 15.

"A male business partner?"

"Excuse me?"

"A male business partner?"

"You can't be serious!"

"I'm very serious."

My mouth hung open.

"Elise, this isn't some media company. The industry your planning to embark on is dominated by men."

"Isn't every industry?"

"Ninety-Nine percent is pretty high. Higher than the average industry." He sighed. "You need a male partner. I'm not being sexist but there's no way you can break into it without a man with you."

"That's not fair!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I know you're more than capable, but in my honest opinion they won't take you seriously."

I almost cried.

"But the plans are perfect!"

"I know. But you'll need a man to speak to the men."

"But-"

"How many of the database are women?"

Silence

"Elise, how many-"

"None."

I'd never even thought about it.

Brother-In-Law sighed.

"Maybe we should talk some more. Go over some options."

"I can do it." I told him defiantly. "I have contacts."

He shook his head.

"It won't matter. Trust me I know what I'm talking about."

He gave examples. Lots of examples.

A man would rather have a male mechanic fix his car.

A male stock broker is more trusted than a female broker.

Male sports commentators

Male builders

Male IT consultants

Bottom line. I need a male partner.

On my way home I went through all the possible candidates.

Stoner?
Good Points: um... I like him..
Bad Points: He's stoned. He hates waking up early. He dresses like a student. He's not business minded.

Solicitor?
Good Points: He's logical. He's business minded. We can have sex during lunch times.
Bad Points: His career is pretty much sorted.

Gay Boss?
Good Points: He looks and sounds like a typical man. He even uses the phrase "What's up with you? Are you on your period or something?". He's logical. He's business minded.
Bad Points: We'd argue too much and eventually kill each other.

Brother-In-Law?
Good Points: He knows the industry. He's a successful business man. He's logical. We get on well.
Bad Points: I can't actually think of any....

But I don't want to share!

The Interview

2009-03-20T18:37:00.003Z

Today I had an interview with a young company.

The company has only been established for a year and believe me it shows.

They've rented a loft space above a Costa Coffee in the heart of Soho. Let me break this down further.

Soho in London = clubs, bars, gay-clubs, gay-bars, prostitution and crazy tourists with cameras.

If your going to base your company in London, don't choose London's sex ridden backstreets. It's more professional to be based in a nice area. Preferably a nice area where you can drive in and park your car...

Most multi-national companies are based in business parks all over the UK. It brings a sense of calmness. Business associates can drive to your offices for meetings. You can work late without worrying about using piss stained public transport to get home.

This is how I know that the company is run by people who have migrated to London.

I've lived in London all my life. The excitement of using the tube to get to places died when I was 3 years old. The sight of a person wearing a banner promoting theatre tickets fills me with pity, not interest. I don't give a shit about the latest club opening on Tottenham Court Road. I don't buy fashionable hats. I don't get excited about restaurants on Shaftsbury Avenue. There are better ones in West London and the staff speak English.

So anyway, back to the actual company.

I was interviewed by a young woman and a young boy. The boy was barely out of university. He
wore Rupert trousers for crying out loud. I don't care what anybody says. They are not fashionable!

They were nice people. They smiled a lot. Asked a lot of questions.

Can somebody please tell people, that speaking in complicated sentences makes them sound like bullshitters!

I'm a pretty straight forward person. If somebody asked me what I used the Internet for I would tell them the truth. I obtain information and connect with people. Simple.

The boy said: "The essence itself is dependant on the argument for, not against, the need for a higher understanding of organisations, or such, that use and distribution of certain information for the sole use of the user...."

What the fuck?

He had no idea what he was talking about. I had no idea what he was talking about. But the woman nodded with an interested look pasted on her face.

They liked me.

I would rather kill myself then work for a bunch of bullshitting idiots who love working behind a Stringfellows Strip Bar.

It confirmed it. If they can make it in the business world, there's no reason why I can't. The hard work starts on Monday.

Dinner, Cousin and the Mafia

2009-03-18T18:40:00.003Z

We had dinner at Grandmama's house on Tuesday. Solicitor and my father suddenly turned into the Mafia. Honestly, it was so embarrassing.

Let me start from the beginning.

Grandmama invited my father, his new lady-friend, and Solicitor and I over for dinner. Grandmama is my mother's mother but for some odd reason she loves my father like he's her own son. She wanted to get to know Lady-Friend after I gave her an update over the phone after meeting her on Friday. Grandmama is a curious as I am. She was desperate to see her 'dear boy's new sweetheart'.

So it was supposed to just be the five of us. A quiet event, so we could all get to know each other. But things never work out the way they're planned.

Cousin called me during the day and told me that he and his sister were in London for the week. Cousin and his sister live in a village way up north. They're not really my cousins, they're Step-Father's niece and nephew.

Now, since I'm a stupid idiot who can't keep her mouth shut, I accidentally invited them both to Grandmama's. Grandmama didn't mind at all. She doesn't really know Step-Father's family too well and she was eager to meet them both properly.

Cousin (Girl), is the biggest Wag-Wannabe in the whole world. I've never seen anyone who looks so orange, blond and fake in all of my life. She doesn't say much, but I can sense bitchy thoughts.

Cousin (Boy), on the other hand, is extremely friendly. He calls and emails regularly and is always quick to invite me to all of his parties. To be honest, I've never gone to any of his parties. He lives too far away, and he can be very annoying at times.

So, while we were sitting at Grandmama's large dinner table, I noticed that Cousin (Girl) was giving Solicitor 'the look'. You know the look I'm talking about. She fluttered her fake eye lashes, pouted her orange lips. I almost smacked her in the face.

While I was busy focused on Cousin (Girl), I didn't notice how much Cousin (Boy) was drinking. Cousin (Boy) was sitting directly next to me talking a mile a minute. I wasn't listening and I occasionally nodded out of politeness.

I suddenly sprung up when I felt his hand sliding up my leg. I couldn't believe his nerve! Everybody stared at me as I stumbled to my feet.

"I need to make a quick call." I gasped hurrying out of the room.

Solicitor followed me.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked.

I told him. He looked ready to kill. (God he looks so sexy when he's angry!)

I obviously had to calm him down. We paced around the kitchen for couple of moments before rejoining everyone in the dining room. As we settled down, Solicitor flashed my father a look.

After the main course my father stood up casually and stretched.

"It's a nice night. Maybe we should leave the girls to gossip."

Solicitor followed suit, and the two of them coaxed Cousin (Boy) into going outside with them.

Alarm bells went off in my head. I really should have followed them, but I didn't. I settled down next to Lady-Friend and asked her what she did for a living.

While Lady-Friend, Grandmama and I sat back chatting, Cousin (Girl) sulked at the other end of the table and played with her hair extensions, swishing them around, fiddling with the ends. I did my best to include her in the conversation but she just shrugged and stared at the table with a frown. What the hell did she have up her ass?

"What's going on outside?" Cousin (Girl) suddenly asked staring out of the window.

We all stood up and walked to the window. Solicitor and my father had Cousin (Boy) kneeling on the floor in front of them. Cousin (Boy) was clearly drunk. He seemed to be pleading with them.

As funny as it looked I darted out of the room and jogged outside.

"What are you doing?" I asked in disbelief.

Father turned and smiled.

"You want to say something to my daughter?" He asked Cousin (Boy) in a fake friendly voice.

Cousin (Boy) looked at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Elise. I will never touch you again."

God, he looked pathetic.

"What did you do to him?" I asked Solicitor and my father angrily.

The both looked at me innocently.

Lady-Friend, Grandmama and Cousin (Girl) stepped outside of the house in question. My father shrugged.

"We're just talking." He said casually.

Solicitor grabbed Cousin (Boy) by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

"Yeah, we're just having a chat."

Both Cousin's left quite soon afterwards. I doubt Cousin (Boy) will call for a while. Poor Guy.

Aimee

2009-03-16T13:36:00.002Z

For the past few days I have practically camped by the window looking across the road at Number 26. So far I have nothing. She leaves for work at 7:30am and returns at 6:30pm. That's it! I can't believe it.

Solicitor went out to a Stag weekend on Friday. One of his old friends is about to tie the knot and organised a weekend in Liverpool. (I know! We live in London and the guy wants to go out in Liverpool??) So, I had the house to myself and I intended to make the most of it.

I started the night by cranking up the volume and playing some old favourites while I applied a homemade banana hair mask. I picked up my microphone (hair brush) and slid around the wooden floor in baby pink socks and matching underwear. (The curtains were closed. Nobody saw.)

I didn't hear the phone ringing, I was too involved with being Diana Ross, but when I went to change the track I saw the red flashing light on the answer machine. I wish I'd left it, there was a nice bottle of white wine cooling in the fridge and line up of Brad-Pitt-In-The-Nude films, but I couldn't resist listening.

It was Aimee. I groaned when I heard her voice.

"It's me. I know you're busy but I need you. Please, please come and get me. Please."

Her voice was thick with tears and she sounded so lost and panicked.

The message was left for Solicitor. She probably tried to call his mobile but had no luck.

The problem with Aimee is that she won't go away. It hurts knowing that Solicitor had a life and a wife before me. Aimee calls every so often and reminds me of it. I'm not jealous, I just have this ache. Regret is probably a better word.

A large part of me wanted to delete the message and continue with my night in. My earlier excitement came to a crashing halt, and instead of deleting the message I replayed it. Twice. And then I called her back.

She sounded terrified. It took me 15 minutes to wash my hair and head out of the door.
When I arrived she was so wide eyed and skitty. Paranoid would be the best way to describe how she was. Her eyes were dilated and I knew in seconds that she had taken something.

I cautiously walked into the hallway and through to the living room. There were clothes everywhere. Aimee had darted across the room and was staring out of the window.

"I know he was here." She whispered.

"Who?" I asked whispering back. There was nobody else there, I have no idea why I even bothered whispering.

"That man." She gasped.

Before I could find out more, she ran from the room and locked herself in the bathroom. It was like being with an over imaginative child. She wouldn't open the door despite my gentle voice, despite my pounding.

I finally stepped out onto the balcony and attempted to call Solicitor. His phone was switched off. I was on my own. I gave up smoking a long time ago, but at that point I really needed a cigarette. I dug around my handbag hoping I still had an emergency one. I wept with frustration when I found that I hadn't.

After ten minutes of pacing around the large living room, I called Stoner.

"I'm with Aimee and she locked herself in the bathroom. What should I do?"

Although Stoner was, well, stoned. He snapped to action.

"Check the whole place. Look for empty packets, white powder, anything you can find."

I immediately began rummaging around. I told him about her state of mind.

"It sounds like she's done a hell of a lot of coke. Probably mixed with something."

Sure enough, there was white powder on the kitchen counter and in her en suite bathroom. I found a bag of pills with smiley faces on them and a packet of some kind of hard brown rock (It wasn't hash, I still have no idea what it was). I flushed everything that I found.

Once I was sure that I'd taken care of everything, (I'd even flushed the OTC medication) I began pounding on the bathroom door where Aimee was still hiding. I completely lost my temper.

"You selfish fucking bitch! What the fuck do you think your playing at? Get out here right now or I'm kicking this door in."

She didn't reply. At first I thought she was unconscious but then I heard a faint sob. True to my word, I put all my force behind kicking the door. I managed to dent it, but it didn't budge. I was more angry than worried at that point, until I heard her puking.

I almost called 999. Almost. Then I remembered that I knew somebody who lives quiet near to Battersea, someone I could trust.

My father lives in Chelsea, just over the bridge. I hesitated before calling. He answered on the first ring.

"Elise? What's happened?"

I hardly ever call him unless I really need to. I almost regretted it as soon as I heard his voice. I gave him directs and told him that I needed him.

He arrived in 15 mins. I pointed to the bathroom door and told him that Aimee was inside high on drugs and she wouldn't open the door. He bolted into the door and it crashed open easily. How come it didn't work when I tried it?

Aimee was lying on the floor with vomit all over her. She clearly missed the toilet. She was just about conscious and was sobbing uncontrollably. It was disgusting.

We lifted her and dragged her to the shower cubical. My father left me to undress and shower her. I called him back in after I'd cleaned and dressed her in a bathrobe and he carried her to bed.

It was only after we'd put her to bed that I realised that there was another woman standing around in the living room. She was quite a pretty middle aged woman dressed in smart clothes. She smiled warmly.

"I'm so sorry." I said, blinking away tears. I'd ruined their night.

The woman shook her head and gave me a hug. "Don't be silly. It's a good thing you called. You needed someone here with you."

They stayed with me for a few hours, making sure that we wouldn't need to take Aimee to hospital. She slept like a baby. I stayed with her the whole night, just making sure she was okay. Part of my wanted to smack her on the face and let her know that I was angry.

I can't keep doing this. Aimee can't keep scaring me like this. I just want her to disappear.

Solicitor was furious when I told him about it the following day over the phone. I don't know what he's said to her but she called to apologise and to tell me that I don't have to worry, she won't be calling again.

I want to be relieved but now I'm going out of my mind with worry. What if she does it again and there's nobody there to help her?

The Homewrecker at Number 26

2009-03-11T14:20:00.003Z

So I haven't had much to write about. The past few months have been BORING.

But last night I had a little adventure... and found something else to occupy my time.

It all started at around 11pm. I offered to make Solicitor a cup of tea. When I opened the fridge door I realised that I'd forgotten to buy some. So, desperate as we were, Solicitor and I slipped on some clothes and decided to take a drive to the off licence.

When we approached the car we both noticed the front passenger door at the same time. It was wide open and the window had been smashed. The car had been broken into.

Solicitor sighed and told me to go inside the house and find the insurance details while he tried to sort out the mess. He slipped me the keys and walked over to the car to assess the damage.

As I started back to the house a tearful voice stopped me.

"Excuse me."

A rather chubby middle aged woman stood a few meters away from me. She was drenched from head to toe.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Do you know who lives at number 26?" She asked

"Not really. Why?"

"My husband!"

The woman dissolved into tears. I'm a compassionate person. The car crisis was completely forgotten as I put my arms around her.

"What's wrong?" I asked her gently.

She stepped back and blew her nose.

"He told me he's going away on business. But he isn't! I followed him. He came here. I know he's sleeping with her. I just know it!"

Okay. Wow. I was torn between going into the house and finding insurance details and listening to this woman's story.

"Please help me." She cried.

"Okay. Um. What can I do?"

"Keep and eye out. Let me know if he comes out of that house. I know he's at number 26 and I'm not losing 20 years of marriage because of that cow!"

She gave me her mobile number and before I knew it I'd promised to call her with any updates. She even showed me a photograph of her husband on her phone!

To be honest I have no idea how I got myself into the situation. Solicitor was flashing me impatient looks, I had to get inside and find the details. The woman just kept talking and before I knew it, I'd agreed to help her.

So, as I ruffled through papers I tried to think back. Number 26 had always been pleasant. I'd never actually spoken to her but she always smiled and waved. She didn't seem like a home wrecker. Maybe the tearful woman had made a mistake. I mean maybe she thought she was following her husband but she was just following some random guy in a blue Nissan. It could happen!

I found the insurance papers and skipped out of the house slamming the door behind me.

Oh shit!

I'd left the keys on the desk! I knew I'd forgotten them as soon as I heard the door shut. I pushed the door hoping that it would miraculously open. It didn't. Obviously.

I pasted a smile on my face and walked slowly to the car. I handed the papers to Solicitor wordlessly. He glanced down with a frown.

"We may as well lock up the car. It's not going anywhere. We'll patch up the window and wait until morning."

I nodded.

"So, where's the keys? I need to lock up."

I nodded

"Elise?"

"Okay, about the keys... They're in the house."

Solicitor stared at me.

"I locked them in." I explained dumbly.

More staring.

"But it's okay." I said brightly "Because your mother has a spare, right?"

He slowly shook his head. "We replaced the lock three days ago. Remember?"

I remembered. We hadn't given any spares out. Damn! Solicitor looked angry.

"I didn't mean to! That woman's husband is cheating on her and I was thinking about number 26 and-"

"What the hell is the matter with you!?" Solicitor snapped. "Can't you, for once, focus on what you're supposed to be doing instead of indulging in mindless gossip?"

"I was, I just-"

"Look. Just go and get the milk. And for fuck's sake stay out of trouble."

Okay, that hurt. I didn't mean to forget the keys. I bit my lip and turned in the direction of the shop.

I got back half an hour later. Solicitor had calmed down. Don't get me wrong, he was still pissed off. He'd called a locksmith. We had to wait around for an hour. If it wasn't so late we could have knocked on a neighbours door but it was coming up to midnight and we didn't want to disturb anyone.

The locksmith turned up and hour late. Instead of picking the lock with tools, he drilled through the lock and replaced it. When I asked why he didn't just pick it, he looked at me scornfully.

"I don't think Yale would be too pleased if it could be picked with a screwdriver."

(I didn't know who Yale was. And I wasn't going to ask. I googled it later and realised that they make front door locks.)

The total cost of going out to get milk last night was £209.89

The insurance cost for replacing window: £69
The cost of locksmith: £140
The cost of semi-skimmed milk £0.89

While we drank our much deserved cup of tea Solicitor asked me about the woman. I told him the full story. He shook his head

"God, I thought number 26 was too nice to be a home wrecker."

"Oh my God! That's what I thought!" I gasped back

Jumping

2008-12-08T08:40:00.002Z

I'm finding it hard to write.

When you've got nothing to do all day there's very little you can report on. I'm used to spending my days doing something productive. Actually, thinking about it, I'm not used to doing nothing.

Unemployment is a very strange place to live in. It's very lonely and quiet until it hits 5:30 when most of the people I know finish work. I spend my mornings applying to jobs, most of which I have decided to not exist. I get a call from a recruitment agency every so often. They take down my details and insist they have a few positions available. they then ask me how long I've been in sales. I tell them that I've never sold anything in my life and if they'd bothered to actually read my CV they'd know that.

My afternoons are either spent watching a stream of dvds with a ton of chocolate or they're spent at Bimbo's. I love spending time with Bimbo but I feel so demotivated every time I see her. According to Bimbo I shouldn't feel the need to work. Work is a man's job, and since Solicitor has more than enough money to support us both, I should start thinking about the future.

You know Solicitor and I have thought about getting married and having children, but there is so much more that I want to achieve in life. True, I don't actually have solid goals written down that I'm crossing off as I achieve them, but I still think there's so much more for me to do first.

Solicitor's brother called me yesterday and asked me how my business plan was coming along. I told him the truth. On paper it looks great but I'm terrified of taking the plunge.

"You've got nothing to lose now, Elise. Take the plunge."

I couldn't sleep last night. I feel like I'm on the edge of a diving board. I have to jump.

I really do mean it

2008-11-20T11:48:00.002Z

I know I've said this before, but this time I really do mean it. I'm back.

Without a job.

The last two months have been sheer hell. New Guy and CEO worked hard together to get rid of me. You know something, I don't go down without a fight.

Melinda sorted through all of the "evidence" that I'd gathered and helped me make sense of it all. She then told me to file a grievance for Bullying and Harassment under the Act of Sex Discrimination.

The day that I wrote the grievance to CEO was the day that CEO decided to offer me a deal. He called a meeting in the boardroom at 11am, two hours after he received my letter. He offered me a substantial amount of money to drop the grievance and leave the company. I'm not stupid. I knew that he knew that I had a great hand. And I played off the fact that he knew it.... if that makes sense?

I put my negotiating skills into practice. I listed all the reasons that I should take CEO and New Guy to court. I loved the fact that beads of sweat began to appear on CEO's forehead. His hands trembled slightly. He tripled his offer and I stood up and shook his hand.

"A pleasure doing business with you. My lawyer will contact you."

I picked up my bag and sashayed out of the boardroom. I headed down to Admin and picked up the huge bag of stuff that I'd cleared out from my desk.

Stoner met me at the front entrance. He hugged me tightly. I kissed him on the cheek and left.

I drove straight to Bimbo's. She stopped working a month before she had her beautiful baby girl, with no plans of returning. We celebrated our "leaving do" with a cup of tea and chocolate cake.

Melinda

2008-08-14T14:40:00.002+01:00

I suppose I should go back and explain.

It all started with the 'disciplinary action' that New Guy took against me. I had a cold and I took a sick day. Apparently I didn't have a good enough reason for absence. After our official meeting, he issued me with an official warning. Solicitor went mad.

Fortunately for me New Guy had no idea that Solicitor is not only a lawyer, but that he also used to do business with the company. Solicitor urged me to write a letter appealing the outcome of the meeting to CEO.

Now here's where it got interesting. I should open up my own private spy company.

I hacked into New Guys emails. His password was pretty easy to figure out. He's a huge football fan. I typed in 'arsenal' and it worked! Scrolling through them I found quite a few from CEO. The one that stood out for me was their master plan.

RE: Project

(New Guy)

How did she take the written warning? We definitely followed the correct procedure issuing it. She just needs to slip two more times before we can proceed.

Any thoughts about (Wanker's) proposal?

(CEO)

My heart stopped when I read that. I pressed the print button and looked through the sent messages.

RE: Project

(CEO)

You're right. We have followed procedure. it may be a little tough short term but with the current economic climate as it is we could really do with the extra £38k to increase profits.

I have thought about (Wanker's) proposal. I think it's a little premature at the moment, however I will give it some thought.

As far as I can see the company needs a complete make-over. I will talk through different strategies with my team before presenting them to yourself.

Regards,

(New Guy)

Print.

I read through both emails. Surly they couldn't be talking about what I thought they were talking about? They want to get rid of me to increase profits? What proposal?

The more I thought about it the angrier I became. Later that night I showed Solicitor the emails. He read through them and re-read my written warning. The written warning had been drafted by a lawyer. It followed a generic layout and included certain phrases.

Their "project", whatever it may be, had been carefully planned out.

CEO terminated the companies services with Solicitors law firm. There's no way that Solicitor would ever agree to be involved with constructively dismissing a member of staff, especially if it were me.

New Guy definitely was not who he said he was. He clearly had a relationship with both CEO and Wanker before he joined the company. The only question was, what?

CEO received my appeal through the post the following day. He immediately sent an email to New Guy.

RE: Project

(New Guy)

I received a letter of appeal from Elise. However, I can't say this surprises me. Her boyfriend is in law. I expect she'll be receiving legal advice through that route.

Hopefully our ends are tied tight enough.

It's best if you continue to share and office with her until this matter is taken care of.

(CEO)

RE: Project

(CEO)

I can't help feeling that this has become a personal issue. In business it is wise to keep things as simple as possible.

Please keep me informed of all information. Small details, such as her boyfriend, make things more complicated than they need to be.

(New Guy)

Print. Print. Print.

Over the next few days I began collecting and slotting together pieces of the jigsaw puzzle. I desperately wanted to share with Stoner but this time I had to do it alone. I couldn't chance anything. I picked up the phone several time to call Gay Boss. I had to hang up before I could get through.

Solicitor gave me an address a week later. I dropped in during a lunch break. A petite middle-aged blond woman with a kind face held out her hand as I walked in.

"Elise, I'm Melinda. (Solicitor) told me the situation. Take a seat."

No, I haven't been hit by a bus. I'm back

2008-08-12T09:16:00.003+01:00

No, I haven't been hit by a bus. I'm back.

The last couple of months have been... well 'a living hell' might be the best way to explain it.

About a month ago my sister and brother-in-law took a romantic weekend away to Barcelona. Nephew stayed with me and Solicitor. I love having Nephew around. He's so sweet and he always manages to say the funniest things without meaning to.

On the Saturday afternoon Solicitor went out to the pub with a few of his friends. Nephew and I amused ourselves with poster paint and coloured card. I'm not really the creative type but I was having a whale of a time with the crafts session. Nephew showed me how to finger-paint the image of a house onto blue card. We ended up finger-painting each others faces.

After we cleaned up Nephew settled down with Toy Story 2 while I busied myself in the kitchen. I opened a packet of chicken dippers and poured some onto a baking tray. I looked on the back of the packet for an oven temperature. Normally the packet would convert the temperature for you, but all I found was Pre-heat oven Gas Mark 6.

Now I know that its not really a big deal, but for some reason I started to stress out. I suddenly got quite angry and I called the telephone number at the bottom of the packet. All I got was an automated service line. I slammed the phone down in frustration. The stupid bloody packet didn't have a temperature on it. I felt completely helpless.

"Aunt Elise?"

Nephew gazed at me from the doorway. His big brown eyes full of concern. I tried to smile at him, to reassure him that I was fine.

"It's okay Baby"

"Then why are you crying?"

Yep. I had started crying. In fact, I had started crying and I had stopped breathing. My chest began to tighten up. I felt a wave of sudden dizziness. I started to panic. If I didn't start breathing soon I may collapse and die here on the kitchen floor. Nephew wouldn't get his chicken dippers!

Nephew's face began to morph in front on me. He was so frightened. I hated that I scared him. I tried so hard to smile and tell him that everything was okay. But at the time I honestly believed that I was going to die. The walls began closing in. my chest got tighter and tighter. I sank to the floor.

I don't remember exactly what happened, but I soon found myself in the car with Solicitor. He had wound the windows down. The cool air filled my lungs. I could breath! I still couldn't speak, but at least I could breath!

I sat tearfully in A&E for a good few hours. Nephew had fallen asleep. His head resting on Solicitor's lap. What was wrong with me? I'd ruined Nephew's weekend. Solicitor looked angry. He stared at the floor deep in thought.

"I'm sorry."

He sucked in his breath.

"Don't apologise. Just sort it out. Call Melinda on Monday."

I nodded.

"And you're not going to Manchester. You'll have to reschedule"

"But-"

Solicitor's low voice of authority cut off my protest.

"Elise, don't make me say it twice."

Poker Face

2008-06-16T15:14:00.003+01:00

Yesterday I received a letter from New Guy.

Last week I had a bad case of a cold. The type that hits you gradually. It starts with feeling cold. The type of cold where you have to continuously rub you hands together and curl up in a tight ball to stay warm. You feel like you have a razor blade lodged in your throat. You can't focus on anything. Even the simple task of going to the bathroom seems like an impossible mission. You're head feels sore and heavy...

Obviously I couldn't drive to work like that. I'd be a hazard. So I took time off.

When I arrived on Monday morning New Guy happily handed me an official letter. Disciplinary Action in accordance with Statutory Disciplinary Procedures...

I choked.

I had to read it again. I apparently failed to provide a "reasonable explanation for my absence". Now I'm no expert on the matter, but I'm pretty sure that having a cold is a fucking reasonable explanation for absence.

I went for a walk to clear my head. And to calm down. I didn't want to get arrested for assault.

I pulled out my phone and text Gay Boss. (I should really change his name but I can't be bothered)

He called me.

"Hey"

"Hey"

He paused.

"So... um... how's it going?"

"Awful!"

Gay Boss paused. A wave of hysteria took over and I started laughing. I laughed until I cried.

I hadn't spoken to Gay Boss since he left. I missed him terribly. His dry remarks always used to crack me up. He could make me laugh in almost any situation.

"I've got a disciplinary"

"Oh its your turn now."

"Thanks."

"A Pleasure."

I loved the way it sounded so casual. Suddenly the situation didn't seem so bad. We spoke for almost an hour. I told him that New Guy is a sexist prick. He told me that he's been to China.

Of course, the conversation quickly turned back to my Disciplinary. Gay Boss is well aware, from experience, of the steps that will follow. I'm about to be managed out.

"You know, its only when you step back and leave that you realise how fucked up that company really is."

"I can see how fucked up it is. God, I need a holiday."

"Well its been a few months and I still haven't recovered. I'm nearly normal but not quite there yet."

It's my turn now. I have a target circle tattooed on me.

I'm not worried about the Disciplinary Action. I haven't done anything wrong. It's the drama that will follow the meeting that concerns me. I've seen how the game is played here. Lucky for me I think I've been dealt a good hand.

Now all I need to do is put on my Poker Face.

"Oh, and she showed me her boobs..."

2008-06-05T10:19:00.002+01:00

Yesterday was beautiful day. A complete contrast to Tuesday.

Stoner and I had Lunch outside on a park bench.

"Oh I found a replacement."

"For who?"

"For you. Someone else I'd rather have lunch with."

Stoner was only teasing but I couldn't help feeling jealous.

"Yeah? Who is she?"

"She petite, like you. Dark hair, like you. Beautiful eyes, like you. Oh, and she showed me her boobs."

Stoner casually took a bite into his sandwich. I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

"Were you dreaming?" I asked sweetly. Stoner laughed and told me the story.

On Tuesday Stoner went to Costa for lunch. He managed to find himself a corner table. As he sat down a sweet voice caused him to look up.

"Can I join you? The tables are full."

Stoner nodded and she sat down. She ripped open two packets of brown sugar and stirred them into her latte. Stoner couldn't help noticing how soft her hands looked. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something to say.

"So.. um.. you work around here?"

The girl smiled and nodded. She pointed at the bank across the road.

"First day."

"And how are you finding it?"

"Boring."

"How come?"

"No cute guys."

Stoner laughed. He couldn't resist the urge to flirt.

"Oh! Now I see why you came and sat with me."

She laughed and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"What makes you think that I think your cute?"

"I didn't say that. But now that you mention it..."

The conversation went on. Each person playfully teasing the other. They were comfortable with each other. She was easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with.

"You think my boobs are too big?"

It came out of nowhere. Stoner tried hard not to look. But she invited him to look didn't she?

Her coat was slightly open. The top few buttons on her black shirt were undone. He could see her cleavage. She leaned over. Shit! What was he supposed to do? She was showing him! Would it be rude to look? Would it be rude not to look?

He looked. He couldn't help it. He has no idea why guys love boobs so much but they do. When a pretty young woman decides to lean over and reveal all its a guys duty to look.

He looked back up at her. She smiled and pulled her coat shut.

"It was nice having lunch with you. Maybe another time?"

"Um... yeah."

"See you around."

She picked up her bag and walked out.

"So are you going to see her again?"

"I have no idea. I don't even know her name."

"Wow what a skank."

Stoner smiled.

"Yeah. So I'm replacing you."

"You can't replace me with a nameless ho."

"Look Elise, you have to step up in the game. Make it worth my while."

He looked at my chest pointedly and winked. I kicked him under the table.

Sticky Pink Stuff and Squelching Shoes

2008-06-03T13:05:00.003+01:00

My car broke down this morning.

I'm not a snob. I take public transport all the time. I would be lost without the tubes and buses. How would I get to clubs and bars without them?

However, it's been years since I took public transport during rush hour. Buses and trains crowded with swearing school children. Swarms of people walking at 80 miles an hour with the Metro Newspaper folded under one arm and a Costa Coffee cup in their other hand.

British people are so miserable!

Nobody smiles at anyone. They keep they're eyes averted and stare into space until they reach their stop. Nobody talks to anyone. Apart from the occasional pissed off "tut" nobody utters a word.

It brings back memories. I remember now why I was thrilled when I passed my driving test and bought myself a car. I remember why I'd rather pay the Congestion Charge and drive to work, even if it means that I have to sit in traffic for an extra half an hour.

When I finally arrived at my stop I walked out into a puddle. Stupid, uneven pavement! My stylish compact umbrella was no match for the heavy rain. How the hell could somebody design an umbrella that doesn't shield you from the rain?! Isn't that the whole point?

By the time I arrived to work I was miserable, snappy and drenched from head to toe.

As I squelched up the stairs to my office I preparing myself for a bad day my phone began ringing. Aimee??

"Hi?"

"Hi Elise."

"Um... how are you?"

"Good. You?"

"Yeah I'm great."

I stood outside my office door digging into my bag for my key. Shit, where did I put it? Eww whats that sticky stuff? Oh shit! My lipstick. Where's the lid?

I tried hard to concentrate on what she was saying.

"Uh huh.... uh huh...."

"... so I was thinking maybe Earls Court? There's this restaurant that I love. Seven o'clock Friday okay?"

"Uh huh... Great."

Wait. What?

"You'll love him! Honestly he's dying to meet you guys. I'll speak to you soon and tell you everything okay?"

Wait. What? Yuck! There's all pink stuff on my keys.

"Love you lots Elise. Bye honey!"

Okay. I think, I'm not entirely sure, but I think that I've agreed to dinner with Aimee and whoever "he" may be.

Solicitor is going to kill me! The last time we saw Aimee he specifically told her (and me) that she shouldn't contact either of us and that he wanted her completely out of our lives.

It's not a problem I'll just call her back and...

Oh Shit! Phone.

"Hey babe. You okay?"

"Did you speak to Aimee?"

"Yeah she just called. Something about Earls Court."

"Elise, we are not meeting up with her."

"Yeah I know I was just going to cancel.."

"So tell me, how long have you and my ex wife been talking?"

"We're not... I haven't.."

"Fuck it. We'll talk about this later."

Solicitor can be such an idiot sometimes. I actually felt like I did something wrong. She called me! I didn't call her. I didn't even know what I agreed to.

If the stupid keys weren't at the bottom of my bag... You know something, I knew I shouldn't have taken the lipstick with me... Blood wet shoes... Stupid train...It's the stupid cars fault. It had to break down didn't it....

Okay. It's okay. It's not that bad. There are starving people in the world.

Oh great. My printer's not working.

Secret Meeting

2008-05-23T10:05:00.005+01:00

The "sexist" situation at work has created a war.

There are two sides .

Side 1:
New Guy
Scruffy Artist
Part Time Guy (Creative Team. He's the gofer.)
Weirdo (Admin. He's the guy that told me and Bimbo about the Elite Orgy groups.)
4eyes (Accounts. Seriously easy to manipulate.)

Side 2:
Me
Bimbo
Stoner
Preppy (Accounts. Feminist.)
Irish (Admin. Chatty woman. Can't live without her mobile phone.)
IT Guy (IT Tech. Dry humour.)

For the first time in years Bimbo and Preppy are on the same side. Preppy always used to patronise Bimbo. She didn't really approve of Bimbo's sweet, slightly dim, personality. She now has a new found respect for her.

Side2 have claimed various locations to hold bitching session. Mainly the disabled toilets by Accounts. There's enough space in there for a mini party.

Yesterday afternoon Preppy text us and called a meeting. I was the first to arrive. I sprinted down the corridor. I may have been excited at the thought of an undercover meeting. It was like an MI5 secret calling! Or, it may have been the espresso...

I burst through the door. Preppy was perched on the toilet seat as if it were a throne. Head held high. Notebook resting on her lap. I pushed up onto the ledge by the sink. Damn! Should have checked it was dry.

Bimbo, Irish and Stoner arrived together. Bimbo hobbled in gripping onto Stoner's arm. Honestly, I've told her time and time again not to wear heels in her condition. I'm no expert on pregnancy but I'm sure its difficult to balance even without the heels. Preppy had to stand up and offer Bimbo the toilet seat. She was upset about losing her throne. I could tell.

IT Guy arrived last. He looked around with amusement. Preppy began madly gesturing at him.

"Lock the door!" she mouthed.

IT Guy sighed and flicked the lock. He leaned against the door and folded his arms.

"What's this all about?"

Preppy looked like she was going to burst.

"Shhhh!"

I snorted. Stoner caught my eye and bit back a smile.

"You may think that I'm being over cautious," she whispered "but we have to keep quiet!"

She flicked open her notebook and pulled out some photocopied pages. She passed them around in an official manor. It looked like a page from a legal book. As I glanced at the sheet I noticed that a few lines had been underlined with a red Biro.

"I've done some research and I think that we can approach the situation in a legal manor."

Whispering was taking its toll on Preppy's voice. It began to sound raspy. IT Guy smiled.

"Can you say that again?"

Preppy repeated herself in a loud whisper. She began coughing halfway through the sentence.

"Seriously, I didn't get that."

Irish poked IT Guy. Preppy looked so angry.

"Why don't we just email?" Bimbo asked

Preppy looked at her scornfully.

"Because this is a very important situation. We can't run the risk."

"But we don't have to use work accounts we can use personal ones right?"

I swear I saw I vein throbbing by Preppy's temple. She really needs to calm down. She'll end up bursting a blood vessel if she's not careful.

"It's not a bad idea." I voiced up.

We were all standing around in the toilets whispering! We must look so ridiculous. It's pretty hard to have a secret meeting when half the staff were missing. Someone was bound to notice and no amount of whispering would help us.

"You can scan the documents through and we could do our own research an come up with a plan."

Preppy turned on me.

"In case you've forgotten, everything that you look up on the Internet can be monitored."

IT Guy coughed.

"Excuse me, but in case you've forgotten, I do the IT around here. If anyone wants to trace things back they have to call me to do it."

"Do not talk to me like I'm stupid!"

I guess whispering went out the window. Preppy and IT Guy were heading for a full on argument.

Bimbo suddenly stood up.

"Look. This is stupid! We'll all use our personal email accounts and copy everyone in on everything, okay. (Preppy), your research in a step in the right direction. We'll all look at it and decide what to do. In case I'm mistaken, lawyers cost. If we can use research and sort it out without getting legal the better it will be for all of us. I'm hungry! I don't want to sit around in the toilets. I want some Hula Hoops." Bimbo began crying with frustration. "I had to walk up all those stairs. My peppermint tea is cold. My feet are hurting and I just want to sit down and relax. Is that too much to ask for? Is it?"

I slid off the ledge. My butt was wet. I put my arm around Bimbo and walked her out of the toilets. We accidentally left our photocopied sheets in the toilets.

Preppy hasn't emailed yet. I think she's a little sore.

I must admit this is fun!

Cutie Pie

2008-05-19T16:08:00.003+01:00

I'm finding it difficult to control my anger.

New Guy is slightly sexist. Its rubbing off on some of the other guys.

Honey.....?
Sweetheart.....?
Good Girl....????

Fuck you!

People are beginning to call me Honey. I don't mind one of my close friends calling me Hun. I do mind a work colleague calling me Honey in a patronising voice.

"Honey, do you mind checking the Client Activity for the past two years? There's a Good Girl."

New Guy is just like CEO. He thinks I'm stupid. He's sending me random documents.

"Do you mind amending the spacing on this Sweetheart. Thanks a million."

Yes I do mind! I'm not a secretary.

Whenever anyone asks me to do something I just don't bother doing it. Why should I? It's not my job.

This morning I had an episode with Scruffy Artist in the main foyer. I bumped into him on my way to the chocolate machine. He smiled at me and said.

"Hey babe. You got any idea where I should put the designs? Do me a fav a create a new folder on the server. Thanks a million."

I lost it.

"Do not call me babe. I am not your fucking secretary so you create your own fucking folder. Frankly, I am fucked off with the way you've all started to fucking talk. You're a bunch of fucking sheep. Following like sheep, and getting fucked like sheep."

I was in the middle of talking about sheep when I realised that a crowd had developed. Stoner was desperately trying not to burst out laughing. I could hear him trying to control his snorts. Scruffy Artist looked embarrassed.

"Right... well... good."

I turned and slowly walked up the stairs. My head held high. Trying my best not to look like some crazed psychopath. When I got to the first floor I began running. I shut myself in my office and tried to control my breathing.

God I'm so unfit. How can sprinting up another flight of stairs and running down a corridor leave me so out of breath? I can't believe I actually thought about running the marathon.

Stoner knocked on my door a few minutes later.

"Are you okay?"

He was trying hard to keep a straight face. I stared at him. He couldn't hold it. He started laughing. He didn't stop.

"That was so funny! I've never seen so many people look so shocked. Sheep? What the hell were you thinking?"

I made us a cup of tea. We sat against the office door sipping and talking. I told him that I felt like I was being patronised. That I hated the way everyone seemed to be doing it. The attitude was catching on fast. He nodded sympathetically.

"Not just you. (Bimbo) feels the same way. (Preppy) from accounts is a little pissed off too. Yesterday (New Guy) called her Cutie Pie and winked."

I laughed. Preppy is not cute. She's a strong feminist and scorns at women that do not choose to follow a career path. She thinks its an insult to what women have worked hard to achieve.

"Maybe you guys should form a feminist group. Go on a march around the building. Burn your bra."

I smacked Stoner lightly on his leg.

"What?" He looked at me innocently. "I'd love to see you all take of your bras. Show us all a little bit of..."

He stopped.

"Yeah, you're right. It's catching on."

The way we...

2008-05-08T11:08:00.005+01:00

Last Friday I got a call from Tequila Guy.

I got to work at around 10:30am. The traffic was bad, the weather was hot and I was miserable. New Guy gave me a huge smile when I walked into the office. He looked pointedly at the clock. I plonked myself down and removed my sunglasses. Ouch! the light hurt my eyes.

New Guy looked concerned. He asked me if I was okay. I told him that I'm prone to headaches and I just need a few hours without annoying human contact.

At around 11 I got a text on my phone.

I know I said I wouldn't call when I get to London so I thought I'd text. Are you free tonight?

Tequila Guy! I knew he couldn't come all the way to England and not contact me. I felt a wave of excitement. I quickly text back.

Where are you?

By the Natural History Museum...

Stay there. I'll be there in an hour.

I left work. I briefly told New Guy that I needed to sort something out. He assumed it was important and he wished me luck with whatever it was.

I met Tequila Guy outside the V&A. We hugged tightly. It had been so long since we'd seen each other. We laughed as we looked at each other. Observing changes. Seeing familiar expressions. God, I missed him.

We chatted easily together. Just like we always have. We walked around for hours. Catching up on each other lives. Playfully cracking jokes. Neither of us could stop smiling.

We finally stopped at a bar. We ordered drinks and sat quietly at a table outside. For some reason there was an awkward silence. As I struggled to think of something to say I reached into my bag for my emergency cigarette. I pulled out a slightly wonky Silk Cut and thumbled around for a lighter. Tequila Guy leaned over and pulled the cigarette from my lips.

"They're bad for you."

He squashed it into an ashtray. We both stared at the ashtray for a while, not knowing what to say.

"Elise."

"Yes?"

He looked away.

"Nothing."

I focused my attention on my straw. I stirred it around and poked the pieces of lime in my glass. I wanted to run away. I never in my wildest dreams thought that Tequila Guy and I would struggle to speak.

"Are you happy?"

I looked up into his gorgeous face. The light from the sun caught the yellowish green flecks in his golden eyes.

"Yes. I'm very happy. Are you?"

"Yes."

We smiled. Almost a sad smile. I went back to playing with my straw.

"You love him a lot don't you?"

I nodded. I do love Solicitor. I love the way he holds me close in his sleep. The way he wraps his arms around my waist when I'm trying to cook, deliberately distracting me. I even love the way we argue. So passionately. Each of us so certain that we are right.

Tequila Guy finished his Carlsberg. I gulped the rest of my Pimms and we began walking. I linked my arm with his and we walked in silence for a while.

"Do you love her?"

"Yes I do."

"Tell me what you love."

We talked for hours. Just walking. Tequila Guy told me what he loves about Tina. The way she bites her bottom lip when she's nervous. The way she holds his hand when he's driving. I told him what I love about Solicitor.

I called Solicitor a few hours later and told him that I was bringing an old friend to dinner. We decided to invite a few more people and have a barbecue.

I got so excited. I've never had a barbecue with Solicitor before. I dragged Tequila Guy around Tesco picking up meat, salad and the all important alcohol. I couldn't stop talking as I hurried up and down the isles in no particular order. Tequila Guy laughed at me.

"You're cute."

"Be careful... I have chicken and I'm not afraid to use it."

I waved the bag of chicken quarters at him before dumping it into the trolley.

"I love you."

I smiled back at him.

"I love you too."

A Breath Of Fresh Air

2008-05-06T10:39:00.003+01:00

It's a breath of fresh air.

The new guy is... well he's... nice. That's the only way I can describe him. He's nice. He smiles. He makes jokes. He's upbeat and enthusiastic.

For the past week he's been sharing my office. He's slowly getting to grips with how things are run. He's dying to go out and find new business. He's eager to meet existing clients. And slowly but surely he's enthusiasm is killing me.

I would love to come into work and have and old fashioned bitch fight. A moody hello followed by a nasty comment. Without Gay Boss people are pleasant and boring.

Last Friday New Guy and I had a discussion. I told him the bad parts. CEO's random fits of illogical behaviour. I told him to be prepared for stalker-like behaviour if he does anything wrong. He was slightly shocked. He sat in silence for a while tapping away at his computer.

"Don't worry," I gave him a reassuring smile "You'll be fine."

......

"He's screwed."

Stoner and I had lunch together that day. It was warm enough to sit in park. We lay on the grass sharing a cigarette as we spoke about New Guy.

"In any other company it would be a fantastic attitude. He motivates people."

"Yep. But if you're like that here you'll fall harder."

"you think he'll fall?"

Stoner shrugged.

"They all do."

Gay Boss once told me about the person that he replaced. And the person before him. Stoner's right. They all fell. Gay Boss lasted the longest. CEO actually liked him for a long time. I wonder what changed.

......

On Saturday I began working hard on my business plan. I walked around the house conjuring up ideas. I threw tree loads of paper into the bin as I ruled out the ideas. I spent hours tracking down old contact information.

Towards the end of the day I was exhausted and frustrated.

Solicitor's brother came over for dinner that night with he's current girlfriend. (He's had about six different ones in the last four months.) As we sat down to eat I suddenly lunged for a pen and my notepad. I tripped over the rug in my desperation.

"What the fuck?"

Solicitor's brother looked at me alarmed. Solicitor shook his head and continued to pour drinks. He's used to my sudden outbursts of energy. I once sprung up out of bed in the middle of the night reaching for my notebook. He thought the house was on fire.

As I wrote down information that I suddenly recalled Solicitor explained my business idea to his brother. Throughout dinner Solicitor's brother showed a keen interest in my plan. He asked questions about the development strategy and he supplied new ideas.

"Elise, it's going to work. Nobody's doing what you're doing. It'll take time but when it takes off it will be amazing."

Amazing?! I love him!

Later that night as I was getting ready for bed I asked Solicitor for the millionth time if he thought it would work.

"Yes babe. It'll work."

"You think it'll be amazing?"

He dropped a kiss on my lips. A very sweet way of shutting me up.

"Do you?"

"Yes babe."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Have you taken you're knickers off or do I have to it for you?"

"No more sarcastic swearing" (2)

2008-04-28T16:10:00.003+01:00

Gay Boss left last Thursday.

After two hours in the boardroom with CEO he knocked on my office door to say goodbye. He held out his hand in a professional manner and told me that he'd come to wish me luck. My eyes welled up. I ignored his outstretched hand and I gave him a hug.

"Keep in touch."

"I will."

Then he was gone.

I sat alone in my office for a while thinking about the past few months. I finally stood up and walked into the boardroom. CEO was sitting at the head of the table sorting through sheets of paper.

"Elise! Hello, how are you?"

He gestured to a chair. I numbly sat down.

"Well, I guess you've heard." He smiled in a friendly manner. "They'll be some good changes around here. You'll meet the new guy tomorrow. He's a very nice man. Over fifteen years experience you know."

His voice tuned out. I sat in silence. Unable to say a word.

After a while CEO got up to leave. I stayed seated. As he walked to the door he looked over his shoulder.

"You will be nice to him won't you?"

Of course I'll be nice to him! What the hell does he think I'm like? It's not the new guy's fault is it?

I nodded. He shut the door.

I sat in the empty boardroom for a while. For the first time since working there I felt alone. Stoner finally knocked on the door and let himself in. We sat in silence holding hands.

"You know, nothing is going to be the same."

"No more late mornings."

"No more long lunches."

"No more sarcastic swearing."

"No more secret office meetings."

"No more undercover spying."

It was the end of an era.

Bimbo called my mobile phone not long afterwards. I couldn't work out what she was saying, she was sobbing so loudly. I told her to meet us in the boardroom. A few minutes later she burst through the door. He face was swollen and red from crying so much. He hair was in a complete mess. She looked so ridiculous, I couldn't help but laugh.

We all spent the day in the boardroom swapping stories. Slowly more people joined us. By the end of the day all of the employees were sitting on and around the table laughing and joking about Gay Boss.

He will be missed by us all.

The Past Week (1)

2008-04-24T09:38:00.003+01:00

It has been a while since I last posted and since I last read other blogs. A lot has happened since dinner with CEO.

Last Friday Solicitor and I joined CEO and his wife for dinner. The first hour was incredibly boring. We sat and listened to CEO and his wife describe the nightmare they had with choosing a suitable colour to paint the veranda. CEO thought a pale blue would work very well with the scenery. His wife wanted to paint it yellow to match the colour of their yacht. CEO pointed out that nobody could see the yacht from the house and she explained that people would see the yellow and realise that the boat and the house were owned by the same people.

Nightmare? No, dear that's not a nightmare. Not comparing to what 99.9% of the world have to deal with in life.

Halfway through the main course CEO began talking about the company. He told me that they were hiring a new member of staff. He'll come in for a proper introduction next Friday. He was wondering if I could show him around. Help him settle in.

"Oh. You've decided to replace (Old Prick) have you?" I asked innocently. Old Prick was a guy that used to share an office with me. We both did the same job, we looked after clients and generated new business. He wasn't performing well so he was "invited to leave" about six months ago. I inherited all of his existing clients and got a pay increase.

CEO looked slightly uncomfortable at my question.

"Yes, I suppose he will be."

There was a long silence as we ate. Solicitor gripped my hand under the table. He could sense my anger quietly rising. CEO has found a replacement for Gay Boss. I know he has!

"I heard through the grapevine that your nephew would be joining the company." I made an effort to change the subject. I also wanted to find out what happened to the idea of Wanker becoming Managing Director. CEO's wife untactfully answered.

"Oh no! He's going to write a novel, isn't he?" She glanced at CEO excitedly "Something about magic truffles or philosophers truffles... Anyway, its an adventure story about a man who sees things that other people can't. Like objects have a hidden life or something. It's really interesting! Imagine having an imagination like that!"

Yes. I imagine someone taking magic mushrooms could come up with something very similar.

I held back. I felt a rise of hysterical laughter rise up my throat. I did my best to smile politely. I gently kicked Solicitor under the table. He snorted and quickly took a sip of wine to cover up.

It was too difficult. I stood up and excused myself. By the time I got to the ladies I was in a fit of giggles. CEO's wife was such an airhead. I knew she'd say something funny. While I was getting ready I told Solicitor that she'd say something completely random. I didn't expect what she said though.

By the time I returned to the table CEO and Solicitor were talking very seriously.

"... I just feel that we need to approach things with a completely different angle." CEO explained. Solicitor didn't look very happy at all. CEO's wife nervously played with her napkin and avoided eye contact with everyone.

"What's going on?"

I suddenly had an image of CEO firing me in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Oh my God! What if the new guy was replacing me not Gay Boss. Oh, lets see him try and do that. I'll tell him a thing or two. Tell him where to shove his stupid pathetic....

"(CEO) has made a decision not to continue business with (Solicitor's Law Firm )." Solicitor told me matter of factly.

"Oh my God! Why?" It was a complete shock. Solicitor's Law Firm have always looked after the company. What the hell was CEO playing at.

"It's nothing personal of course. Well, now that we've got that out of the way, what shall we order for dessert?"

That night Solicitor and I went home fuming with anger. We marched around the house. I slammed my purse on the kitchen counter and flung my coat onto the sofa. Solicitor ranted and swore.

I could not believe CEO would do something so ridiculous. I regretted asking Solicitor to join us for dinner. I had no idea that his law firm would suffer. How could this happen?

I called Gay Boss and told him about the evening. I told him about the new guy and I told him about CEO's decision to stop working with Solicitor.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Why would he do something so stupid!" Gay Boss was in complete shock about the law firm. "Elise, I'm going next week. I hoped that he'd consider you for my job, I really did. We'll talk more on Monday."

He hung up.

I miss you

2008-04-16T12:51:00.004+01:00

I spoke to an old friend last night. We met years ago when I was travelling abroad. He accidently spilt his drink all over my top. He apologised and bought me a few shots of tequilla. We knocked them back and started talking. About everything and anything. And we've been in contact since.

"Elise, I'm coming to London."

"Oh my God! When?"

"In a few weeks."

"We have to meet up!"

"I can't."

"Not even for coffee?"

"Babe... I can't. I wish I could but.... I just can't"

Silence

"Why not?"

"You know why."

"I don't. Tell me why."

"Elise, you know why. Don't make me say it."

Silence

"Is Tina coming?"

"No."

Silence

"Did she like the ring?"

"Yes. She loved it."

"I'm happy for you."

"I know you are."

Silence

"So you've moved in with your new man huh? Cat and all?"

"Yeah. You should come and meet him."

"You love him?"

"Yes."

Silence

"And you love Tina."

"Yes. I do. Very much."

Silence

"Elise?"

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"You tell me first."

"What am I supposed to tell you?"

"What you know you know."

"No."

"Then I won't tell you."

Silence

"So, you're definitely not going to call me and meet up with me?"

"No."

"Another time and another place...."

"Another lifetime..."

silence

"I miss you."

"Me too."

silence

An Eventful Night

2008-04-15T11:05:00.002+01:00

Sruffy Artist is working with the opposition!

Stoner has been slightly suspicious of his behaviour over the last few days. Apparently Scruffy Artist is in contact with CEO. He leaves the room to take "private" phone calls.

Stoner and Scruffy Artist are our Creative Team. They get to work at around 11am every morning and they leave when they're work is done. According to Stoner, Scruffy Artist has been arriving early to send off emails. Stoner specifically came in at 8am yesterday to see what time Scruffy Artist arrived. He was already there, sitting at his desk sending off emails.

Gay Boss is aware of this. He noticed Scruffy Artist's behaviour a week ago.

Stoner hacked into Scruffy Artist's email last night. Of course this is illegal. But if he were to print out the last communication between Scruffy Artist and show it to me it would read:

(CEO),

I'd like to thank you for encouraging (Wanker) to come and speak to us about the business plans for the future. I now fully understand the new plan.

I have been gathering the information that you require. I shall email it over to you by close of business on Friday.

Kind Regards,

(Scruffy Artist)

What information?? Scruffy Artist is taking the piss! What business plan? Wanker had no idea what he was talking about.

Stoner thinks the sole purpose of Wanker being here was to find an Allie for CEO. Ideally I would be the best candidate. I'm close to Gay Boss and I have a deep understanding on how the business is run. Unfortunately Wanker could not get a word in edge ways.

Scruffy Artist is very easily led. Wanker probably drew him in with promotional offers.

I suddenly feel like the company politics have turned into a full blown war. It won't be long before I'll lose it and leave. I doubt there are many people in this world that would put up with this kind of crap.

I need patience. I'm still in the process of setting up my own business. I just need to deal with this for a couple of months. Then I can kiss this fucking place goodbye. (Excuse my French).

After talking it over with Stoner I decided to accept CEO's offer of dinner on Friday. Stoner thinks I should try to keep the peaceful front that CEO has managed to perfect. Meanwhile I should use this opportunity to figure out his game plan.

Actually I should use this opportunity to have some fun....

I called him just before I left work yesterday.

"Elise! How are you my dear?"

"I'm very well thank you. Just a quick call regarding dinner on Friday."

"Oh of course. Have you made up your mind? I would love you to accept."

"Yes. Yes I'd love to come. I'd like to bring my partner if that's okay?"

"Your partner?"

"Yes. You've probably heard of him. He's taken over from Paddy as the company lawyer?"

Silence.

"Oh. So you're dating him are you?"

"Yes. Is it okay to bring him? It'll make us an even group."

"Of course you may bring him. I look forward to properly meeting with him."

And I look forward to an eventful night...

Boardroom Chat..

2008-04-11T09:56:00.003+01:00

Wanker and I had a chat yesterday.

He arranged to come in a speak to Gay Boss again. Yesterday morning Gay Boss strolled in to my office.

"Looks like today might be my last day." He laughed about it.

"You're not going anywhere."

We waited for Wanker to show up. We drank two cups of tea. Ate a few bars of chocolate. Checked our emails. And waited.

Wanker arrived an hour and a half late. Typical spoilt idiot! Gay Boss left me and met him in the boardroom. I restlessly paced my office for a few minutes before deciding to go and see Bimbo.

I found her sitting at her desk drinking hot chocolate and flicking through the latest issue of Cosmo. She looked so relaxed and content. Damn, I was jealous! I plonked myself down in a nearby chair.

"Oh check out this girls make-up." She swung the magazine around and pointed. "You got time for an experiment?"

She whipped out her make-up bag and began brushing down my face with powder. I love the way Bimbo pampers me. It so soothing. Its nice to switch off and enjoy it. Half an hour later I looked at the new look in the mirror. She is amazing! I felt like a star. She has a knack for completely changing a person's look without over doing the make-up.

"Lets do another one!" she excited flicked through the magazine looking for a new face.

My BlackBerry began vibrating. A text from Gay Boss.

Where are you? Wanker wants to see you in the boardroom. He's lying and he's a bad liar. Careful what you say.

Just when I had started to relax! I sighed looking at the magazine in regret. I slowly got up and walked to the boardroom.

Wanker was overly pleased to see me. He shook my hand and smiled warmly.

"Its great to finally have a chat with you. We haven't really had the chance to get to know each other."

I smiled sweetly.

"I know. What is it that you actually do?" I asked innocently.

Wanker coughed and spluttered something about business strategy.

"...and that's why I'm here. To sort out the problem with the business structure here."

"Really? What's the problem and how are you going to sort it out?"

Wanker pulled out a notepad. He began drawing boxes. He looked up at me.

"I don't know how academic you are and whether you'd be able to understand this."

Excuse me? This is coming from an unemployed twat!

He labelled the two boxes.

"This is the Share Holder and this is the Management. There seems to be friction between the Share Holder and the Management.

"Look, if CEO has a problem with (Gay Boss) he should do the honorable thing and speak to him."

I don't think Wanker expected me to be so upfront. I pulled the pad away from him and picked up a pen.

"Now let me draw our existing structure." I drew a complicated diagram with each department and the links between them all. I looked up at him"I don't know if you'll be able to understand this. Its rather complicated. Now this is the structure that we have. How would you improve on it?" I pushed the pad back in front of him.

He looked at it in surprise. He shuffled around and cleared his throat.

"Actually its not that side of the business that I wanted to talk about."

"No?"

"I wanted to talk about your role. You don't seem happy."

"I do my job. I enjoy what I do. You don't know me so you can't tell me whether I'm happy or not. What do you want to talk about?"

Again Wanker shuffled through some sheets of paper.

"CEO is very happy with you. He speaks very highly of you."

"Really?"

"Yes. Things are running very smoothly here."

"Wait a minute. You said you were here to talk about changes of business structure. If things are running smoothly then there's nothing to discuss is there?"

"There is. You're role and what you feel about the current structure."

"I deal with clients. Business structure should really be discussed with the managing director don't you agree?"

"Look my uncle wants to consider offering you a role as managing director." He smiled "This was a test to see how much you know. You clearly know what you're talking about."

"I have people to speak to and people to see. Quite frankly CEO has never discussed my role with me before. I'd rather speak directly to him in regards to that. We already have a managing director and I have not been told anything different. Is there anything you want to tell me?" Wanker stayed quiet. He didn't know what to say.

I picked up my phone and shook his hand

"It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise."

I left him sitting in the boardroom and quickly made my way to Gay Boss's office.

Gay boss was sat at his desk quietly sipping tea. He looked pissed off. I told him about my conversation with Wanker and he told me about his. Wanker's visit was completely useless. He had no indication of what he wanted to achieve by speaking to us. He was confused and most of the time he hadn't a clue about what he was talking about.

CEO sent him. Wanker has obviously screwed up what ever plan they had. He'll be back...

Carefully...

2008-04-08T09:57:00.002+01:00

Gay Boss walked out yesterday.

He recieved 22 emails from CEO. After printing them out he walked into my office so that we could read them together. Halfway through reading the second one he stood up and put on his coat.

"Fuck this... I'm going home."

I've never seen him look upset before. He's dry, sarcastic and extremely thick skinned. To see him upset was like a kick in the face. I watched him leave. Too stunned to say anything.

I picked up the printed emails after he left and read through them.

CEO is a rude, manipulative, idiot!

I called Stoner as soon as I had finished reading and asked him to come up. I must have sounded anxious because he made it up to my office in 2 minutes.

I told him that Gay Boss had walked out. He was shocked. I then showed him the emails. He read them over and over. He couldn't believe what he was reading.

"Oh my God! The guy's completely lost it!" he looked up at me "You better tell me everything."

I did. I started from the mistake in the client contract, the phonecall from CEO warning me not to tell anybody about the mistake, the endless emails from CEO to Gay Boss, Wanker coming in and trying to speak to Gay Boss, and finally my invitation to have dinner with CEO and his airhead wife.

Stoner mouth hung open as I went through the details.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He paced around the room.

"I knew there was something wrong. Remember the dental plan? I knew it! He was acting so strange and stressed!"

He opened the window and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He offered me one and we sparked up. It's illegal to smoke in a work environment now. Who cares?

We went through all of Gay Boss's emails and began piecing up all the information.

This is what we've come up with:

CEO is managing out Gay Boss. He's trying bloody hard to do so. He's rude, inconsiderate and any other person in Gay Boss's position would have walked months ago.

He knew Gay Boss would be away during the weeks that the contracts were sent and that the error would slip through the cracks. He altered the contracts himself and was going to use them as an excuse to sack Gay Boss. Unfortunately for him, I caught the error. When he found out about it he specificaly told me not to tell anybody.

Wanker needs to get involved with the business if he is going to take over one day. Since he's the type of person that would refuse to work for anyone the ideal position for him is Managing Director.

I'm aware that this is all just a theory, but it makes perfect sense. Whatever CEO is playing at, whether it ties in with the theory or not, he's doing something very unethical.

Stoner and I spent the whole day trying to make sense of everything. This isn't right. Most people go to work, do their job, and go home. Gay Boss and I have dealt with politics in this company for a long time. Stoner is now involved.

I know it wasn't fair for me to involve Stoner. Before I told him everything I asked him if he's sure he wants to know. He's very much like I am. We like to dig through the surface, no matter how risky it is.

Gay Boss hasn't come in today. He called and said he'd be back tomorrow.

We have to tread carefully.

Dinner with CEO

2008-04-03T12:26:00.002+01:00

Wanker has disappeared.

A few weeks ago CEO's nephew, Wanker, came in to speak to Gay Boss. His plan was to interrigate Gay Boss and throw a list of compaints at him. I thought Gay Boss handled it well. He defended himself against every poiont mentioned and managed to turn the conversation around in such a way that Wanker was left in the interrigation seat.

It has been weeks since he has contact us. CEO has sent Gay Boss emails urging him to contact Wanker to discuss new business strategy. Gay Boss replied by saying he had=s no way of contacting him.

My guess is that Wanker has disappeared and his Uncle can't find him. He's probably lying on some beach somewhere catching sun rays. A long holiday after a stressful hour with Gay Boss.

CEO called me yesterday. He was extrememly nice on the phone. I'm always skeptical of people that are nice to me without reason, especially with CEO. He sends Gay Boss rude, agressive emails and then he has the nerve to be nice to me!

"Hello Elise! How are you?"

"I'm fine.... How are you?"

"Very well at the moment. The whether is fantastic here. I'm sitting on the verranda looking at the blue sea. It's beautiful!"

How nice for you, you prick! While we're in turmoil because of you, you're habving the time of your life!

"Thats nice...."

"My wife and I would like to invite you to have dinner with us. We're in London on the 18 April."

What??

"I'll have to consult my diary and get back to you on that."

"Well I'll be disappointed if you can't make it. I like spending time with you and my wife would love to get to know you better."

Would she now? Now why on earth would your young airheaded wife want to get to know your employee better?

"I'll get back to you soon."

"Fantastic!... Now while I'm on the phone with you, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Okay...?"

"Has my nephew been in touch at all?"

"No he hasn't."

"Oh... I see..."

"Can I help at all? Has he not been in contact with you since he came to see us?"

"Oh no... No, its fine... Nothing to worry about."

I was slightly amused by his efforts to be nice. I wonder what he wants.

I spoke to Gay Boss about it later that day. He laughed. He thinks that CEO is being nice because, aside from Gay Boss, I'm the only person who understands the business and how it is run. As soon as I started working I was curious about everything. I made sure that I knew everything Gay Boss knew. I think that's why Gay Boss and I get on so well. We have the same urge for knowledge and understanding.

"Want to be Managing Director?" Gay Boss asked.

I screwed up my face. Hell no! There's no way I'm going to work direstly for a sexist, slightly insane CEO....

Managing Director does sound good though doesn't it?

No! I'm starting up my own company. I don't want to work for him.

Gay Boss honestly thinks that that's what CEO wants to speak to me about it. I have my doubts. CEO has never given me any credit for anything without patronising me.

I don't know whether to accept his invitation to dinner. His wife is so annoying. CEO and I have never spoken for more than 15 minutes. Speaking to him drives me crazy!

I'm curious though....

Tiny Leather Skirt

2008-03-28T09:32:00.005Z

Last night Bimbo and I went out for dinner.

We originally planned to go to Prezzo, just round the corner from Bimbo's place, but she called and changed her mind just as I was leaving. She wanted to meet me at a place called The Coriander, an Indian restaurant on a one-way system in East London. Miles away from where I live.

After half an hour of driving in circles looking for a parking space I finally arrived. Slightly irritated. Bimbo was sitting at a table in a corner sipping mango juice and speaking to the waiter. She began waving frantically when she spotted me.

"Isn't this place amazing?"

You'd think she was talking about the Taj Mahal.

I slowly took in the surroundings. The restaurant was pretty much empty. It was dark and dingy. Dark wooden tables, dark red velvet booths, dark green wallpaper. The mirror behind the bar was framed with a string of multicoloured fairy lights. Half the bar was taken up by an old fashioned television that was tuned into Zee Music. The Bollywood music pierced my ears.

I could not believe I'd driven for almost two hours for this cheap looking room! The food had better be amazing....

It was. I couldn't believed how well it was spiced. The flavours were terrific.

Bimbo beamed from across the table.

"I told you it would be worth it."

I found that after I'd tasted the food the surrounding didn't look as bad as I had originally thought. Bimbo and I found ourselves watching the music videos on the television.

It's amazing how Bollywood manage to create passionate scenes without the couple actually kissing. The actors over play the passion in their eyes. The camera focuses on a hand on the waist or a finger trailing down the back of the neck.

Half way through the meal Bimbo and I had decided that we would watch a Bollywood film together. All three and a half hours of it. The waiter gave us tips on what to watch.

"You like Sharukh?"

"Um... I guess..." Bimbo and I nodded in confusion.

"Of course! All the ladies like Sharukh."

The waiter began reciting a list of films. I couldn't register any of the titles. I forgot them as soon as he had said them.

Suddenly the cheesiest music video came on.

A sexy woman was standing in the middle of an empty basketball court. She was dressed in a tight leather skirt that barely covered her ass and a tiny leather top. Heavy rain fell on her. Droplets running down the naked parts of her body. Between the valley of her breasts.

A muscular man on a motorbike suddenly drove through the court. He was dressed in a leather vest and trousers. He stopped a few yards in front of her and whipped off his sunglasses. Why he was wearing sunglasses I'll never know. It was night.

They regarded each other with attitude. The sexy girl walked up to him. Swishing her ass in a suggestive way. She stopped in front of him. Posed with her hand on her hip.

"Are you like, checking me out?"

Bimbo and I looked back at the waiter.

"We want to see that one!"

The waiter smiled.

"Yes! Is a beautiful film. You like Ashwarya Rai?" He pointed at the sexy woman thrusting her hips in the rain.

I nodded.

"She Miss World. My wife, he look like her."

Bimbo and I smiled politely. I seriously doubted it. The waiter was short and extremely thin. He had a mop of black hair perfectly combed and parted down the side. He had huge teeth beneath a thick moustache.

"Everyone say I look like him." He pointed at the muscular man on the screen touching the sexy woman.

I struggled to keep a straight face. Bimbo looked at the screen and back at the waiter.

"Um yes. You have the same...nose?"

At the end of the evening Bimbo and I left the restaurant, giving the waiter a large tip in exchange for a list of recommended films. We're planning on having a girly night on Saturday. We'll order in Indian and watch the film with the leather...

I have a feeling we'll be dancing by the end of the night.

Thou Shall Not Lie!

2008-03-25T09:24:00.008Z

Grandmama faked a near death experience on Sunday.

Traditionally we always have a family dinner on Easter Sunday at Grandmama's house. This year most people cancelled. My mother and stepfather called on Friday and told her that they'd have to skip dinner due to a broken boiler. My father called to apologise and that he had planned a trip to New York to see a friend. My sister said that she'd already promised my brother-in-law's family that she would spend Sunday with them.

Grandmama was heartbroken!

She called me on Saturday to make sure I was coming.

"It looks like it’s going to be just us." She said it brightly but I could tell that she was upset. I tried to be positive.

"That suits me just fine Grandmama. You'll be able to have a proper chat with (Solicitor). I'm looking for your approval!"

"Oh Elise, you sound so happy! You already have my blessing child."

Early the next morning Grandmama's neighbour Penny called me.

"Elise? Um... it’s your Grandmother... She's... taken a fall.... She's hit her head."

I panicked. I couldn't help it. I started shaking. Poor Grandmama! She's normally so careful. I woke Solicitor up and we got ready in record time. I dialled my mother's number as we left the house.

No answer.

I called my sister.

Answer machine. I left a brief message explaining what happened.

I finally called my father. I always feel nervous calling him. For some odd reason I avoid doing it.

He answered after the first ring. I froze at the shock of somebody actually answering their phone.

"Hello?"

I took a deep breath.

"Elise?"

"Yes. It's me."

"What's happened?"

I cried. I told him what had happened in broken sentences.

"Mum's not answering her phone and I don't know what to do! What if she's hurt badly?"

"Calm down. I'll cancel my flight and I'm coming. Don't cry. She'll be okay. I promise. I'll try calling your mother again."

As Solicitor and I parked up in Grandmama's driveway Penny emerged from the house looking sheepish. I got out of the car and started firing questions. She looked uncertainly at the house.

"I'm sorry! She made me call. I told her not to."

I stared at her. What the hell was she talking about?

My father pulled up in the driveway moments later. He sprung out of the car slamming the door behind him. He awkwardly kissed my cheek and shook Solicitor's hand.

"You mothers on her way."

Penny looked even more worried.

"She made me! Honestly. You know how she is."

She looked back at the house. It suddenly all made sense. I stormed in to the house leaving my father and Solicitor in the driveway with Penny. I found Grandmama in the kitchen humming to herself over the stove.

"Grandmama!"

She looked up and smiled sweetly.

"Everyone will be here soon. Peel the potatoes Elise, we've got lots to do."

I was livid. I was so worried about her and here she was straining butter beans and happily rejoicing in her victory!

Moment later my father walked into the kitchen. Grandmama absently kissed him on the cheek.

"I cancelled my flight!"

"Oh that’s a shame. Must have been a misunderstanding. We may as well have a family day now."

My father ended up staying. It was too late to re-book a flight and Grandmama looked so upset at the prospect of him leaving that he couldn’t say no. My father has always had a soft spot for Grandmama. She always calls him "the son that she never had".

I called my mother and told her not to worry. I told her that they'd been a misunderstanding. I didn't want to tell her that Grandmama had set the whole thing up. She ended up coming anyway with my stepfather.

The six of us had a great time despite the early panic. Grandmama really put herself out with the food. My stepfather teased her and asked her what caterer she used.

Solicitor and my father seemed to get on like a house on fire. I felt slightly envious at the way they were so easy in each other's company. I always found it hard to speak to my father.

We left late in the evening. Grandmama hugged me at the door.

"I'm still angry with you Grandmama!"

"Elise my darling, there's nothing wrong in reminding people of what is important in life."

I laughed at her attempt to justify her scam.

"Grandmama the Bible clearly states 'Thou shalt not lie'!"

"No dear it's 'Thou shlt not bear false witness against thy neighbour'."

"It's the same thing Grandmama!"

Starting Up

2008-03-17T13:16:00.002Z

The last post I wrote was in black humour. I have no real wish to kill myself. I love Solicitor too much to leave him for some other girl. I was having a bad day. We all have them.

When I got home on Friday Solicitor had already made dinner. The music was up loud and he was walking around with a beer in his hand, setting the table. God he looks so sexy in jeans! I kicked off my shoes and gave him a lingering kiss. I turned away and tried to walk slowly towards the kitchen in a sexy manner. I tripped over my heels on the way. Damn!

I poured myself a glass of wine and I winged about my awful day while Solicitor dished up the food. I was just getting to the part about the suicide conversation when he swooped down and kissed me. I think thats his way of getting me to shut up. It works quite well most of the time.

"Look, if your that miserable just leave."

"You're right...."

It's true I should just leave. The bad side is over weighing the good side....

"Or you could start up your own."

I sat down on the stool. Yes. I'll start up my own company!

Over dinner we discussed the possibilities of me doing it. There are lots of companies out there that do what we do. How could I make mine different? The more we talked about it the more I wanted it.

There are two major drawbacks with me starting up my own business:

1) Financial Back-up. I don't have the money to start up alone. I'll need a registered office for starters. How could I possibly afford it?

I don't really want to go for a bank loan. The interest would be ridiculous. Especially now. Interest rates have shot up like mad over the last few months.

2) Staff. I'll need help with the work load. Ther's no way I could do everything myself. If I hire staff I'll need to pay them. Nobody works for free.

I will find a solution to both. I need to do some thinking and I need to do some research!

The Benefits of Suicide

2008-03-14T14:14:00.003Z

I'm thinking of writing a book:

"The Benefits of Suicide"

Working today is like a slow painful death. I wish I topped myself off before hand so I wouldn't have to go through this hell.

Gay Boss and I spent our 5 minute lunch break planning to do it together. He opted to hang himself. I'll just throw myself out of the window.

Managed out

2008-03-12T09:29:00.003Z

There are two main rival companies.

Rival No. 1 offered to interview me after seeing my CV posted on monster. We have a strange relationship with Rival No. 1. Gay Boss originally worked for them years ago until he was offered a job here. My predecessor switched companies and now works for them. It happens every so often. Their company values are similar to ours and although we are rivals we work well side by side.

According to the credit card transaction report CEO was having a secret meeting with Rival No. 2. The cafe listed on the report is based within their offices, I recognised the name straight away. Rival No. 2 are bullies. They prioritise their own needs above those of their clients. We have had many clients that previously had dealings with them and we have heard shocking stories of court cases and scandals.

Yesterday I told Gay Boss what I know.

I was worried about CEO's meeting. It may have been nothing but there may be a possibility that CEO wants to sell up or merge with Rival No. 2.

"I know."

"You know?! What do you mean?"

"I tracked his credit card transactions too."

Oh my God! We are definitely on some kind of a wavelength.

Gay Boss isn't sure of what is going on. He doesn't think CEO himself knows what he wants to do. He was too pissed off about other things to go into too much detail on theories. He dropped a thick stack on papers on my desk. They were all emails sent to him in the last week.

"Look at the amount of crap he wants me to do. He's doing this on purpose. Any other person doing this job would have walked by now."

I flicked through them. It was complete madness! Every email had a new task or a new request on it.

Can you please send me a full report on InBev from 1990 - 1997. I need this by the end of the week.

He wants data from the archive?! That's going to take hours to find let alone write a report on.

I need the figures for all of our clients dating back to when they signed up. I want quarterly figures together with graphs showing the increase and decrease. I also want a full report on each quarter.

The emails went on and on. Each request was a few days work.

CEO is still adamant on the dvd idea. He wants to create a box set of six. Each disk needs to tell a little more about our company. A "collect all six" series. What a complete fool!

He must have a mental problem. Why else would he do this?

Gay Boss was in a bad way yesterday. The day before he had a surprise visit from Wanker. Wanker is CEO's nephew. The company is his inheritance, despite the fact that Wanker has never worked a day in his life.

Wanker arrived and summoned a meeting with Gay Boss in the boardroom. He pleasantly sparked up conversation about the weather. Gay Boss is not one to waste time.

"Let's skip the pleasantries. CEO sent you. Why?"

Wanker never knows how to speak to Gay Boss. I think he's a little afraid of his bluntness. Gay Boss ate him alive.

"You're here to check things out. I know, because you'd never step foot in this place unless CEO specifically told you to. Check everything. I'm an open book. Go ahead."

Wanker opened a notebook and began his series of complaints. Gay Boss threw every statement back.

"You don't put in enough hours."

"No? I respond to emails from CEO at 1am on a Friday night. I respond to phone calls. I'm the first one in this building every morning and the last one out. I have records of everything. The times that I swiped in and the times that I swiped out. My phone calls are all recorded, as are my emails."

Wanker was surprised by the response. I don't know why. If you're going to throw accusations at someone they will fight back.

"You know there's a law against too many hours don't you? If I were to add everything up how do you think the figure would look?"

Next Statement.

"You have had extra long holidays. This has got to stop."

"I have the same amount of days off as my employees. I work the whole year with no break and I take them all at once. There’s no law against it. It's my holiday and as long as it doesn't affect my work I will take them as and when I choose."

Next Statement.

"You've hired incapable staff. It's your job to dismiss them if they're not performing."

"Who would you be referring to?"

Wanker had no idea. He flicked through his notebook looking for the answer knowing fully that he had none.

"I tell you what. Why don't you go and do some homework. Go and do a full report on each employee that I have hired. Make sure you include everything they've done to keep this company afloat. If you find any fault with them let me know."

Wanker didn't know what to say. He laughed off the whole matter and offered to buy Gay Boss lunch. Gay Boss refused.

"I don't have time for lunch. Apparently I'm not putting in the hours and I'm taking too much holiday. I should really use the time to manage my incompetent staff."

I think CEO is trying to get rid of me. Gay Boss thinks he's trying to get rid of him.

We did something we don't usually do. Gay Boss and I sipped neat Jack Daniels while we discussed the possibilities. I've never had a drink at work before, but yesterday I think we both needed it. I told him about my interview call from Rival no. 1. He looked at me sadly.

"Elise go for the interview. If you get it, I think you should take the job."

I felt like crying. I love this company. I've mad good friends like Bimbo and Stoner. I've got a great relationship with my boss. How many other people can say that they've investigated people with their boss? Or had a glass of neat whiskey with their boss? He has a shocking amount of trust for me. I don't want to loose that.

Giving Up

2008-03-10T09:46:00.002Z

Friday evening started off glum.

I left work early to see the lawyer covering the Bradley case. I wasn't really in the mood to spend time with a twitchy power-mad woman but I went along with it. I'm tired of the case. I'm tired of her asking me the same questions over and over again. She has my written statement and I've relayed the details verbally at least a hundred times. What the hell is wrong with her?

After an hour of so of listening to her drone on about how important it is to be specific about everything I was ready to kill myself. I was pissed off.

Solicitor and I drove home in silence. We entered the house in silence. I made tea and we sat staring into space in silence.

"You're giving up."

I never thought about it like that before but once Solicitor said the words I knew they were true. I am giving up. I don't see the point anymore. Bradley is probably scared shitless at the sudden legal involvement and I doubt he'd ever try anything like that again with anyone. I'm exhausted with the constant intimate questions. It's a book I'd rather close and throw away.

"I'm tired. I'm so bloody tired. I have enough drama's to deal with on an everyday basis I'd rather not do this."

I didn't expect the lump to appear in my throat but it did. Angry tears ran down my cheeks. I got up and walked to the bedroom and shut the door.

Its not as simple as people think. Had I been mugged people would have been more sympathetic. For the entire duration of the case, since I first told the police about it, everybody, even my own lawyer has treated me with suspicion. For some reason rape victims are lying until proven otherwise. At least that’s how I felt. The fact that it was only "attempted" makes it so much harder, even with solid evidence.

Solicitor knocked on the door before walking into the bedroom. He sat down next to me on the bed and gently held my hand.

"You don't have to do this. Whatever you decide, I'm with you."

I love the way he kisses my fingers. He kisses them near the tip taking each finger individually. Sometimes it really turns me on. It sends a shiver up my arm and through my body. Sometimes, like it did at that moment, it just makes me feel warm inside.

"So what are the other drama's then?" He smiled.

I flopped down on the bed. A moment later he did the same.

"Well, where do I start? CEO is having secret meetings at this cafe. The only reason I know is because I tracked his credit card transactions. I have a sneaky suspicion that..."

We lay there on the bed for hours while I talked about the drama at work. Solicitor is always shocked by everything I have to say about work. Although he lectures me about getting too involved I can tell he loves it.

The Credit Card

2008-03-07T10:41:00.004Z

The shit is about to hit the fan. I'm not hanging around to see it!

The once family company that I work for is gradually going down.

People don't trust each other anymore. Its like living in a video game. You never know who's lurking behind the corner ready to shoot!

Okay maybe its not that dramatic. but something is definitely wrong. For the last few weeks CEO has been acting strange. Endless emails to myself and Gay Boss asking for strange information.

On Monday, despite my efforts not to get involved, I had to do a bit of detective work.

4eyes from Accounts has been avoiding me for months, ever since he burst into tears outside the disabled toilets. It was so sad! I had to drag him inside and listen to his life story.

Anyway, on Monday I decided to pay him a visit. I needed him to track CEO's credit card transactions for the last few weeks. I know it sounds odd but I thought that would be a great place to start. The detectives on TV always track the credit card transactions. Convincing 4eyes that I needed the information for business reasons was slightly more time consuming.

I had to ask him for all the company credit card transactions over the last two months. I told him that there was a slight problem with our budget and I needed to see where the expenses were going.

"But that's not your job. That's what (Gay Boss) does."

"Yes I know (4eyes), but it affects my budget more than anybody else's."

He knows that its not true. He's the accountant for crying out loud!

"Look, (4eyes), I'm just worried about the over spending. If the two of us can sort it out before (Gay Boss) freaks out about something then we're just keeping the peace aren't we?"

I smiled at him. I tried to make it look like we were in it together. Helping the company move on and dealing with obstacles head on before they become problems. For extra effect I squeezed his hand. Oh God. Did I go too far? He looked at me in complete surprise.

"I guess so."

He agreed?! Yes!

I made him promise not to tell anyone while we flicked through the data. I told him that we'll analyse it and then approach individuals in each department and give them a friendly warning about over spending. For their own good of course. It'll all be very low key. We're doing them all a huge favour.

CEO was in England! He made a credit card transaction in London on the Friday at a London restaurant. When he emailed me he told me he was in Antigua. Somethings not right.

Another transaction Monday morning. Why does that cafe sound so familiar? I know it. Where from? It hit me. Shit!

That's all I needed to know.

"You know something 4eyes? Maybe this isn't such a good idea. I mean you could get in serious trouble for it. I'm really sorry."

4eyes looked at me relieved.

"You know, I was thinking the same thing."

I headed back to my office. My thoughts were racing. I had to sit down and think about it properly. Maybe I should call Stoner. I need to tell him what I think I know. He'll know where to go from here.

I got a call while I was hurrying down the corridor. An interview for another job! I'd only just put my CV up on Monster. That was quick! One of our rival companies. The woman on the line was incredibly enthusiastic and friendly. Could I come in for an interview? Hell yes!

The Party Part 2

2008-02-28T09:30:00.002Z

Dimirtrius left soon after we had spoken. I assume he had more deals to make that night.

I made conversation with a few of Aimee's friends. Most of them seemed very superficial. The conversation was limited to fashion, weight and celebrities. I got bored fairly quickly.

I noticed Aimee had slipped out on the balcony alone. I curiously followed her a few minutes later. She was sat on the floor with her back against the rails concentrating intently on lining up white powder on a dvd case.

"Mind if I join you?"

She looked up at me surprised. She shifted over and I sank down behind her.

"Want one?"

"No thanks I don't touch the stuff."

She shrugged and carried on. I pulled out a cigarette from my tiny bag and lit up. I silently smoked while she snorted a line. She leaned her head against the rails and breathed heavily.

"I say God damn!" She jokingly quoted the line from Pulp Fiction.

There was an awkward silence again.

"Don't tell (Solicitor)."

I was slightly pissed off by what she said. It shouldn't matter to him what she does anymore. They're not together.

"He never saw the bright side of life. So boring!"

I suppose through the eyes of a druggie a well-established, composed lawyer could seem a little boring compared to the smack heads that roam the streets at night begging for spare change. I was really starting to get pissed off with her. I regretted coming outside to talk to her.

"Why do you do it?"

She looked at me as if I had asked a stupid question.

"Seriously Aimee, the last time I saw you, you were in such a state. Why would you do something like that to yourself?"

It may have been due to the cocaine but Aimee just started talking. She didn't stop. She told me about her modelling career. She told me about what should have been a brief relationship with Solicitor. Her horror at an unwanted pregnancy.

"Can you believe he asked me to marry him? Why couldn't he have just encouraged be to abort it like any other normal guy!"

She told me about their son. How she loved him but she just wasn't ready to be a mother. She told me how she hated being a wife. Having to think about other people and the consequences of your actions.

"They say you love your children unconditionally. That’s the problem. I loved him so much but I just wished that he wasn't there. You should always be careful what you wish for."

I got a little emotional when she told me how much she hated herself when he died. It must have been such an awful feeling. To lose someone you love so much and to blame yourself for it.

"You know I felt relieved. How sick does that make me sound? I just wanted to move on. Leave the whole wife and mother thing behind."

Aimee and I are very different people. We have different aspirations in life. Different priorities. I liked listening to her. It gave me an insight into her life and into her mind. We sat outside for a long time. I occasionally smoked a cigarette while she snorted another line.

We spoke about Solicitor. She told me that she never made him happy. She didn't know how and most of the time she didn't really care. She'd regret the way she felt every so often, especially when he rescued her from bad situations, or when he stayed up all night making sure she didn't stop breathing after a long night out.

I told her that I couldn’t imagine not wanting to make him happy. He's such a wonderful man I'd never want to mess things up with him. If I had what she had I would have held it with both hands and never let it go.

"Yes but there's a difference Elise. He didn't love me like he loves you."

I felt my heart overflow with happiness when she said that. He does love me. He tells me in so many different ways.

Aimee leaned over to snort another line when the balcony door slid open. Solicitor looked down at the both of us, regarding the cocaine. I could tell by his expression that the best thing for us to do would be to leave. I stood up and straightened out my trousers.

"We better go." I kissed Aimee on both cheeks and thanked her for inviting us to the party.

As we walked through the door Solicitor turned back to her.

"You know something, Aimee. The next time you're crying and scared because you think you've taken an overdose don't bother calling me because I won't bother coming."

I gripped his arm in effort to steer him away but he pulled away.

"You'll never change. You'll always be a crack head and I'll be damned if I let you into our lives!"

He stalked out. I gave Aimee an apologetic look before hurrying after him.

The Party Part 1

2008-02-26T09:40:00.002Z

We decided to go to the party.

Actually I decided we should definitely go to the party. Solicitor was a little unenthusiastic about going. He played along anyway. He could see how excited I was. It was at the Battersea Mansions for crying out loud! Whenever I drive past the strip overlooking Battersea Park I imagine what it would be like to go inside. The tall ceilings, the traditional decor....

I spent around three hours getting ready. Aimee is an incredibly beautiful woman. She's tall and thin with short, very light blond hair. She has pale skin and huge brown eyes. I had to look my best. All of her model friends would compare the two of us and I didn't want to come across short and fat.

I decided on all black. Black tight DKNY jeans with a black Cashmere top and black stiletto heels. I wore the diamond earrings and necklace that Solicitor had bought me. I stylishly curled my long dark hair and clipped half of it up leaving wisps framing my face.

Years of Bimbo's beauty lessons finally came in handy!

By the time we got to Aimee's place the party was in full swing. The house was swarming with drunk people. She greeted us warmly at the door. Hugs and kisses. The last time I saw Aimee she was quiet and unsure of herself. She had transformed into a chatty, confident woman. I was slightly surprised at the change.

Unsurprisingly Solicitor already knew a few people there. Not wanting to stick at his side all night like a leach I left him to his old friends and I took a walk around. The rooms were beautiful. Natural colours, wooden floors and furniture. I wondered if Aimee had bought it or was renting.

As I walked back into the main room I bumped into a rather large man. I stopped in my tracks. I know him! I've seen him before. He smiled.

"Hey I know you!"

I felt an icy chill as I remembered who he was.

"Supplying for the party?"

He laughed.

"Well its good business."

"You're sick"

"Don't be a hypocrite"

In my first year of university I lived in student hall of residence. I'd lost my building key within the first three months of living there and I frequently knocked on a ground floor window for somebody to let me in.

I got into the routine of knocking on the window of a guy called Sanchez. He was the only person who was in his room most of the time. It became such a frequent occurrence that he started leaving his window open for me to jump through.

Six months down the line we'd formed a routine friendship. I'd jump through him window after a night out and we'd play his N64 for a few hours before I went up to my room. He was a nice guy. Sometimes when he was out he used to leave his window unlocked so I could push in open and climb through. Whenever he was away I wouldn't bother walking up the stairs and I'd fall asleep in his bed. He didn't mind at all.

One night we were lying on his bed playing Mario Cart when he asked me for a favour. He was going to South America to see his ill Grandfather and he needed me to look after his room. He also wanted me to give a guy a wad of cash in exchange for a bag of cocaine. I didn't have to touch it I just had to let the guy in, give him the cash and point to the cupboard where he could leave it.

Sanchez supplied the campus with cocaine. I knew he did and it really didn't bother me at the time. Most students were doing drugs at that point anyway. I personally never touched the stuff but it didn't bother me too much if someone did.

I agreed. Sanchez knew the guy quite well and he promised it was just a clean deal. He left me his phone so that he wouldn't have to give the guy my number. Sanchez was true to his word. Dimitrius came by a few days after Sanchez left. He left the package and took the money.

Sanchez's phone rang non-stop. I didn't answer it a first but one night I absently answered when it rang. There were a group of guys that wanted a few grams for the night. I told them Sanchez was away but if they were desperate I could sort them out.

A week later I'd sold everything. I called Dimitrius and asked him to bring down another packet for the same price. I kept the profit of the last batch and I replaced the cocaine. When Sanchez came back he was none the wiser.

I have no idea why I did it. At the time I just went with the flow. I supplied drugs for a week. I'm not proud of it. And I haven't thought about it in a long time.

Dimitrius was at Aimee's party. I never thought I'd ever see the guy again. He was there supplying drugs to the people attending. He knew Aimee well. She swished over and they hugged and kissed like old friends. God I felt sick.

I caught Solicitor’s eye from the other side of the room. He looked questioningly at Dimirtius. I shook my head slightly as if I didn’t know him.

Dimitrius was right. It was hypocritical for me to judge him. Especially since I didn’t have a problem with it before. But I couldn't stop thinking about what Solicitor told me about Aimee and her drug problem. I remember the box of pills and cocaine that I found in her bathroom. I remember the state she was in when I first saw her. The tears...

The Invitation

2008-02-25T12:38:00.006Z

On my way to work on Tuesday I had another panic attack.

I don't think anything in particular sparked it off. I was casually driving to work listening to Magic fm. Other than the slight irritation of the penetrating sound of Celiene Dion's voice I was in good spirits. Oh yeah, I was still angry about the dvd idea. And of course there were the legal forms and statements surrounding the incident with Bradley....

Maybe there was a reason why a wave of pain flooded my head at the traffic lights. I tried to calm down as soon as it happened. I cradled my head in my hands and forced myself to think happy thoughts.

Halfway through imagining happy free chickens I had an awful thought. What if the doctor was completely wrong? What if I'm suffering from a rare incurable disease?

It didn't help. The cars began beeping behind me.

I managed to park on a nearby street. I turned the radio up and changed the station until I found a song that would put me in a good mood. Strangely, Snoop Dog and Akon seemed to do the trick. I sang along with Akon's chorus and made a mental note to buy the single. Medical reasons of course.

Gay Boss was not impressed when I arrived to work at 10:45 am. CEO had made a surprise visit! Gay Boss lied for me and told him that I had a dentist appointment. CEO didn't believe him. I guess the HMV bag full of CDs was a dead giveaway.

CEO was seated at the head of the conference table when I arrived, pissed off because he was kept waiting for so long. Well he should have told us he was coming shouldn't he! He'd bought a plan for the dvd with him and he wanted to go through it with the two of us. I think he's going senile. He's completely forgotten what it takes to run a business. I was in shock when he relayed his fabulous plans. What a nutter!

Gay Boss completely ignored me through the meeting. I don't blame him. What the hell was I thinking? I took the morning off to buy an Akon album!

After the meeting concluded I got up to leave and another wave of pain filled my head. Gay Boss was immediately at my side. Ten minutes later we were in my office waiting for my headache to pass.

"Elise take a few days off. Go home."

I went home. I went home and poured myself a drink. I changed into a silky nightgown and wrapped my hair up in the ridiculous matching turban that Grandmama gave me for my birthday. I checked myself out in the mirror. All I needed was a cigarette and I was the Drama Queen herself. I think I'm slowly losing my mind.

I got bored after an hour of prancing up and down the house trying out various European accents to go with my new look and I decided to do something constructive. I made a cup of tea and checked the mail.

Council Tax

Gas Bill

Bank Statement

Invitation!?

I ripped open the envelope. People never send invitations anymore unless it’s something important. Maybe it’s a wedding!

Cher Elise et (Solicitor)

You are invited to my Housewarming Party on Saturday 23rd February

Dress: Smart-Casual

Regards,

Aimee

Aimee's moved to London. Not just anywhere. Her address says "Battersea Mansions"! She didn't say anything about it before. The Bitch! She's trying to move in on Solicitor I just know it! I paced up and down the house silently cursing Solicitor's Runway Model Ex-wife.

Actually when I met Aimee she seemed genuinely friendly. She was going through a rough patch and she seemed lost and terribly unsure of herself. She and Solicitor still keep in contact. Maybe going to the party would be a good idea.

When Solicitor got home that night he found the bedroom in a complete mess of clothes. I had spent the day trying on every possible outfit for the party.

Replaced with a DVD!

2008-02-18T12:42:00.004Z

CEO wants to replace me with a DVD!

Gay Boss came up to my office early this morning with a few printed emails from CEO.

Email 1:

This situation breaks my heart.

What happened??/??///??????

This is what he sent when he heard about my meeting with Sanyo. "Breaks my heart"? What the hell is he talking about? It was one mistake. It's not as if I make a habit of screwing up!

Email 2:

I have personally realised a more effective way of presenting to prospective clients. We currently have a fantastic creative department that is not being used to its full advantage. Bellow you will find a schedule for the creation of an audio/ visual presentation on DVD!

He planned out the footage! Every cross fade, every shot, every cut. He wants an audio commentary from an "authoritative male voice" to run over the edit.

This way every presentation will be picture perfect. Anyone can present at any time. It’s just a case of pressing the right button!

I lost it. I actually lost it. I walked around in a rage. Effing and blinding. "Anyone can present". I've done a bloody good job for the last few years! I made one stupid mistake and he wants to replace me with a fucking DVD.

How unprofessional! Imagine walking into a room of directors and flicking on a DVD. Standing back and filling nails while they look at a screen for half an hour. Flicking the screen off and handing them a contract.

"That's it folks. Wanna sign up with us?"

CEO has gone mad!

That’s not the worst of the email. After I ranted for a while I read the rest.

I regret letting a perfectly good employee go. I feel there is a definite difference in the qualities of a male figure in this line of work.

He's talking about Old Prick. Old Prick got sacked because he wasn't performing well. He screwed up countless deals. How can CEO compare my skills with that of an idiot?! What a sexist tosser!

Gay Boss laughed at the email. He said that he had to reply to it but he's completely stuck on what to say.

Here are a few ideas that I came up with:

1) Elise does a bloody good job. She made one mistake!

2) Old Prick was a shit employee. His skills are nowhere near the minimum required.

3) A DVD is completely unprofessional.

4) The creative team are not filmmakers.

5) To hire a camera man and an actor to do a voice over is not free.

6) It will take a minimum of 16 weeks to complete.

7) By the time the footage is complete it will be Out Of Date.

8) CEO, you are a complete asshole. You need to step back into the real world. It's a wonder how you made this company a success. If you started out in today's world you'd be sitting on the side of a street collecting change to feed your fucking crack habit!

I think that’s enough information to aid Gay Boss with his response...

Last night

2008-02-15T13:19:00.003Z

We didn't go out. We were getting ready to but Solicitor unzipped my dress as we headed to the door and...well...we missed our reservation.

He loved the football tickets. I had tucked them in my thong and he pulled them free with his teeth.

I loved the diamond neckless. They match the earings he bought me from Paris.

I don't know what else to say. I can't really describe my evening without it sounding like an erotic porno.

Well you don't want details do you?

Scrapbook

2008-02-14T15:50:00.005Z

The most memorable Valentine's Day for me was the day Raj bought me a red rose.

Being single at 16 and going to school on Valentines Day was either fabulous or traumatic. I personally loved it.

We had a post box in a corridor in the main building at school. People dropped cards in during the week leading to Valentine's Day, leaving names and registration class number on the envelope. A few volunteers would sort through them the day before and on the morning of Valentine's Day we'd have cards waiting for us at registration.

It was the busiest registration of the year. The buzz of gossip lasted throughout the day. Who sent whom a card? Who received the most? And cruelly, who didn't receive any at all.

Year 11 Valentine's Day was the best I'd ever had in school. It was the final year of compulsory education. We knew that we'd loose touch with many people so we all made an extra effort with friendship cards.

As we excited sorted through our card that morning Raj burst through the door with a bucket of single red roses. He handed them out to all the single girls in the class. Each rose had a personal card with a message attached to it.

Raj was a good-looking guy. He was nicely toned. Green eyes. Cute dimpled smile. It was difficult not to feel special, even though he'd given a rose to every other girl.

My personal message said: "To Sexy Elise, everyday is an adventure with you Kitten... Please don't claw my heart out. Be my Valentine."

(When I was in year 8 I broke up with a guy called Philip the day before his birthday. In my defence I didn't know it was his birthday and we'd only dated for two weeks! He told everyone that I clawed his heart out. My nickname was Kitten for a while.)

For that one day Raj made all the girls feel special. He made the geeky girl feel popular, the fat girl feel attractive and the quiet girl feel confident. I noticed and spoke to girls that I hadn't ever spoken to before. We compared cards and exchanged hugs.

Later that day I stole a kiss with Raj behind the sports shed. No tongues. A nice warm kiss on the lips. I wonder how many kisses he received that day...

It’s nice to think back to days like that. To flick through scrapbooks, read old cards, look at old photos. This gave me an idea for Solicitor's card.

I've made Solicitor homemade scrapbook. I bought a plain notebook and filled it with photographs of the two of us. I wrote down little messages to go with them. I even included an old picture of the two of us at a bar when we were at University.

I bought a new bedroom outfit for tonight. A silky black pair of suspenders and stockings with a deep red bra and thong set. I'm going to hide the football tickets in my stocking.... Maybe a little game before he can get his hands on them!

Glitter Glue and Research

2008-02-13T14:05:00.002Z

Yesterday afternoon Gay Boss brought a box of arts and craft materials to my office.

We're currently working on an new potential client and I needed to research the product range. This basically means that I spent the afternoon making smiley-faced, lopsided people out of playdo, I decorated my appointment diary with pink heart stamps and glitter glue and I attempted to create a beautiful picture of a boat out of cut out felt pieces.

A couple of hours into the "research" I had a fantastic idea. I'd make Solicitor a Valentine's card from scratch! Homemade cards are so personal. I could make a cool contemporary, unique card. He'd love it.

I began humming to myself while I lined up the tools. I suddenly felt like one of those cool artists. The ones that always make personal cards for relatives. Maybe I could get into the card making business on the side. People would love them. I'd be promoted on Richard & Judy. Celebrities would have specially made cards made and would pay me thousands of pounds for the service.

Scissors - check
Black Card - check
Red Felt - check
Pink Glitter glue - check.

An hour later and I was frustrated and hot.

The black card was folded at a slight angle. I tried to straighten it out but there's a huge nasty crease running alongside the edge of the card. The red felt hearts were cut out unsymetrically with jagged edges. There was more pink glitter glue in my hair then there was on the card.

I don't understand why anyone would give a child such complicated craft materials. I felt heartbroken when I stepped back to admire my hard work. It looked awful. I can't give Solicitor this! He'd think I'm some kind of a retard.

I threw away the card and attempted a different approach.

Scissors - check
Pink Card - check
Red Card - check
Black Felt-tip Pen - check

I decided to fold the pink card in half and cut out a heart with the red card.

So far so good.

I stuck the heart on the front and wrote Solicitor's name and my name in the centre. I ran out of room. The letters at the end of my name were tiny.

I threw the card away.

I've decided to buy a card. It shows that I'm not cheap. Solicitor will definitely apprecite a proffessionally created card more than a homemade one.

I think I'm done with the research. I know the product range well. I'd never personally buy any of it though. Why would anyone?

I'm taking it easy today. I'll toddle off to Admin around 3. Bimbo's decided to try out her new make up stills on me. She wants to impress Pierce with a new look. Until then I'll just sit around, eat some smarties, drink some tea...

The Shampoo Attack

2008-02-12T10:46:00.000Z

I presented to Sanyo yesterday morning.

I didn't have much time to prepare for it as I spent most of last week feeling sorry for myself. It's not the first time I haven't prepared for a presentation. I usually slip into a professional mode and I somehow manage to pull it off.

Not this time.

My audience were three women. For some reason Women are much more difficult to present to. They look for mistakes. They compete with each other to ask the most complicated questions. If anything is going to go wrong in a presentation it normal happens at the end during the discussion.

I messed up right at the beginning.

"As Sony have a large range of products, catering for different consumer groups..."

Gay Boss went red in the face. What did I do wrong?

Shit! I'm presenting to Sanyo not Sony!

I felt a wave of hysteria erupt as I realised my mistake. I had to fight to keep myself from laughing out loud. The three witches stared at me in silence. One of them was writing something down on her notepad.

That's it. I've fucked it up.

I somehow got through the rest of the presentation without any further hiccups. I doubt we'll hear from them anytime soon.

Gay Boss was livid. He had a "chat" with me when they left.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I can't believe you could be so fucking stupid. You completely fucked up!"

He tends to swear a lot when he's angry.

Logically I knew how serious this was but I still couldn't repress my laughter. I buried my face in my hands and silently shook while Gay Boss stalked up and down my office ranting and raving.

I decided to stay put in my office for the rest of the day to "reflect on my current issues".

At 5:30 on the dot I picked up my bag and locked up my office. For some odd reason I was happy. I'd completely messed up a potentially great deal but I was happy.

I got to the bottom of the stairs when I sudden rush of pain enveloped my head. I gripped the banister to keep my balance. I stayed still. The pain disappeared as quickly as it came. I took a deep breath.

Another pain rush. It felt like my brain cells were exploding.

I sank down onto the first step and cradled my head. I couldn't breath. What was happening to me?

"Oh my God! Elise!"

Bimbo came running down the stairs and sat down beside me.

Another rush of pain.

I gripped her hand.

"I think I'm dying."

I honestly did. You read about these things all the time. A perfectly healthy person dying on the spot with an intense headache.

Bimbo panicked. She burst into tears. Her panic had a huge effect on me. The pain suddenly got blindingly worse. I couldn't speak.

Bimbo called Stoner from her phone while she held me. He was there within a minute. The two of them walked me to Bimbo's car. Stoner sat in the back with me. My head seemed to get worse. Shooting pains running through my brain. I had to remind myself to breath.

"She's having a brain haemorrhage!" Bimbo sobbed from the drivers seat. "I love you Elise. I haven't told you this before but I really do."

"She's not having a brain haemorrhage!" Stoner shouted back. "She's experiencing an allergy attack. Did you use a new shampoo?"

....

"You've experienced an anxiety attack."

The doctor at the hospital was very definite about it. The waves of pain had slowly diluted by the time he saw me. I was left with a dull headache.

"But I'm happy!" I cried out. Honestly, the doctor didn't know what he was talking about. Doctors make mistakes all the time. Remember that surgeon that left his forceps in a patient and sewed him up? The headache was not an anxiety attack. I'm not anxious about anything.

He smiled kindly and squeezed my shoulder.

"These things happen. The next time you experience it remember to take a deep breath and relax as much as you can. It will pass. Would you like me to prescribe some medication?"

This was embarrassing. I shook my head.

I told Bimbo and Stoner that it was an allergy attack. Bimbo freaked out and asked what shampoo I had used.

"Um... it was Morrison's own brand."

Sorry Morrison's, it just came out! I'm sure your product range is very safe.

The safest I'd ever been

2008-02-11T11:56:00.000Z

I did go to the police.

Solicitor picked me up from work on Friday and he drove to the police station. He parked outside and asked me if I wanted to go in. I contemplated for half an hour before we went inside.

What should have been a chat about the incident turned into a gruelling interrogation. I filled out a statement form and answered more questions. I thought I'd just have to relay the incident but I was asked to recall whether he grabbed my left arm or my right arm first. I was asked what side of the car I was pushed against.

I felt like screaming. "I already told you this you stupid pikey bitch!"

Long hours later we got up to leave. The police officer shook our hands.

"We'll be in touch."

That's it? I don't know what I expected her to say but I thought she'd elaborate a little more.

As we drove home I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I did the right thing.

That night I couldn't sleep. I suddenly had an over whelming feeling of regret. I'd possibly ruined Bradley's life. I tossed and turned for hours unable to repress the dull pain in the pit of my stomach.

I was exhausted. It had been days since I had slept. Whenever I managed to nod off I had unbearable nightmares.

I padded to the bathroom in search of some sleeping pills. I was raiding the box of pills when I heard Solicitor. He stood in the doorway wiping the tiredness from his eyes. He slowly regarded the box and looked at me in question.

"Do we have any Nytol?"

He shook his head. He walked in and replaced the box.

"Get dressed. Put something warm on."

Ten minutes later we stepped out of the house into the cold night. Solicitor loaded the car with a thick blanket, extra coats and jumpers and two flasks of hot chocolate.

We drove for hours. He took the M4 out of London towards the west. Past Heathrow. Past Reading. Past Wokingham.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

We turned off at an exit past Swindon. The country lanes were dark and empty. There were no streetlights at all. Solicitor turned off down a dirt road barely wide enough to fit a car. There were thick bushes on either side scraping the windows as we drove through.

We suddenly stopped. Solicitor turned off the engine and the lights from the car.
"Close your eyes."

He helped me out of the car, holding me steady on the jagged road.

"Look up" He whispered.

I opened my eyes and gasped. The sky was filled with million and millions of stars. They were so bright they were like Christmas lights. I stood frozen in shock.

We sat on the blanket on the bonnet of the car smoking, drinking hot chocolate and whispering. It was as if we had discovered an amazing secret. As if we didn't want to ruin the silent beauty with any noise.

I fell asleep in the car on the way home.

I remember falling asleep in the car when I was a young child. I remember being carried into the house by my father. He used to hold me close and kiss my hair. My face buried in his neck. I trusted him completely during those moments. He kept me the safest I had ever been.

Solicitor carried me up the stairs when we got home. He laid me down on the bed and removed my clothes. He tucked me under the thick duvet and slid his warm body beside me. He wrapped me in his powerful arms. I felt his butterfly kisses on my neck before I fell into a blissful deep sleep.

I've decided

2008-02-08T11:45:00.000Z

I haven't slept properly in a while. I have a presentation on Monday and I've only looked at it once. I can't concentrate. The Pro-Plus is giving me a dull headache.

The sun is shinning brightly today. The sky is a beautiful shade of blue. The air is fresh and cool. Why do I feel so depressed.

Solicitor didn't murder Bradley (although I'm sure he wanted to).

Solicitor is a logical person but passionate in so many ways. He expresses anger and love with intensity. After the incident Solicitor told me that he's never hated anybody as much as he hates Bradley. The very thought of him makes him shake with anger.

When he came back from Bradley's on Wednesday I feared the worst. I honestly believed that Solicitor had beaten him to a pulp. To my surprise (and relief) he hadn't. He couldn't resist one big kick in the balls when he opened the door though. I hope he's still in pain for scaring me the way he did.

Solicitor told him that if the incident went to court he doesn't have a case to defend himself. He'd be looking at jail time. Bradley nodded and told him that he'd plea guilty to all charges anyway. He wouldn't deny anything and would accept the punishment.

I believe him. Solicitor, who seriously hates the guy, believes him.

On his way out Solicitor told me that he pushed Bradley against the wall by his throat and told him that if he came within a mile of me again he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

I asked Solicitor what he thinks I should do.

Although the relationship between Bradley and I was short lived there were certain elements that lead me to believe that the incident is a solo one. I don't think he has ever done it before and I seriously doubt he'd do it again.

Solicitor knows the details of the history and he agrees with me. After meeting Bradley he's convinced that the attack was meant for me and me alone. He still wants him to pay for it though.

Bradley is not a serial rapist or attacker. Reporting it and taking the incident to court would only serve as punishment for what he did to me. It wouldn't make a difference to other girls if he remained on the streets.

I haven't told Solicitor this because I'm sure he'll arrange some sort of counselling if I did, but I think I'm partly to blame for it. I could have avoided it if I thought things through. I feel guilty.

I don't think jail time would help Bradley. I think he needs counselling. I've decided to go to the police and tell them what happened. I don't want Bradley to go to jail I want him to get psychological help. I'm hoping that the police will help me arrange it.

I hope Solicitor understands when I tell him.

The Car Park

2008-02-07T12:28:00.000Z

I decided to let Solicitor deal with it. On Tuesday night Solicitor told me that he was going to do some background checks on Bradley and find out as much as he could. In the mean time I had to promise not to go anywhere alone just in case.

I arrived early to work yesterday and I decided to tell Gay Boss everything. I walked into his office hoping for a friendly chat.

"Tell me your here to talk about Sanyo."

Sanyo? Shit! The presentation. I hadn't even started it. The presentation is Monday morning.

I told him about Bradley, the emails and the phone calls. I wasn't expecting him to be sympathetic but what he said really pissed me off.

"Jeez Elise. Some guy's calling you? Lets all stop the globe from spinning!"

I lost it. I called him an asshole and turned to leave.

"Don't get all hormonal on me." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pound coin. "Here's a quid. Go buy yourself some chocolate."

God I really hate him sometimes! I stalked up to my office and paced around for a few minutes. Two hours later I had finished the Sanyo presentation. For the first time in months I had been completely focused on my work.

Gay Boss came up soon after armed with a box of Roses chocolates. He emptied the contents on to my desk and he sat opposite me. For the next hour we ate chocolates and talked. He told me that he didn't mean to sound like an idiot. He was just making a point.

I've never viewed myself as a victim of anything. A few phone calls shouldn't get me down. Gay Boss told me its better to be pissed off at a friend than scared of an asshole. Odd concept but I agree.

I left work late. I called Solicitor just as I left my office and told him I'd meet him at the gym. The car park was unusually quiet. My car was the only one there. I quickly walked towards it and fished my keys out of my bag. Just as I got to it I heard a voice behind me.

"Elise-Babe."

I froze. I hadn't heard footsteps. He was waiting for me! Before I could move he grabbed me from behind and pulled me against him. His arm trapped both of mine in an uncomfortable iron grip against my body. I couldn't move. Even if I wasn't too scared to move, I wasn't strong enough to break away from him.

"Unlock the car."

I dropped the keys instead. If he wanted them he'd have to loosen his grip. There was no way I was going to open the door. He swore under his breath. He pushed me against the car door trapping me.

I felt his hand on my leg pulling my thighs apart. I could feel his arousal through he clothes as he pushed against me. I knew what he was thinking and I panicked. I struggled but I couldn't move.

The more I struggled the more I could feel him getting hard. His breath was heavy and hot against my cheek. I felt sick. Tears ran down my face as I tried to fight a losing battle.

His hand savagely pushed my skirt up and groped me. My tights ripped as I struggled. He suddenly pulled me away from the car and pushed me onto the cold hard floor. Before I could think about getting up he had pinned me down with his body. My arms were twisted painfully underneath my body.

I screamed as he touched me. I thrashed my head around to avoid his hand coving my mouth.

"For fuck's sake! Shut up!"

He thumbled around with his jeans as I tried to wriggle free. He pushed himself between my legs. I begged and pleaded with him to stop but he wasn't listening. He was so intent on what he was doing.

A voice from across the car park startled us both.

“Hey!”

Bradley sprung up and ran. The security guard ran after him as I sat up and tried pulled myself together. My hands and elbows were filthy from the floor. Blood slowly oozed from small scrapes on my legs and hands. I scrambled for my car keys.

I don't quite know how I managed to drive but I somehow made it to Solicitors work building. I parked on the double yellow line outside and ran in. Solicitor was on the phone when I burst into his office. He hung up immediately with a shocked look on his face.

He held me close as I cried. I couldn't speak. I could feel him shaking with anger as I cried.

I couldn't manage many words but I shakily told him that Bradley waited for me in the car park. Solicitor was livid. He wrapped me in his coat and led me to his car. He drove home in silence.

He made a few phone calls while I sat still on the sofa lost in thought. I needed to have a shower I felt dirty and humiliated. Solicitor stopped me as I moved to the bathroom

"We have to go to the hospital."

I didn't want to go. I don't know why but the whole idea of going to a hospital and waiting to be seen was too much to handle. Solicitor insisted. He said that even thought Bradley hadn’t managed to go all the way I needed to be checked out.

Solicitor has Bradley's home address. The phone company has faxed over a log of phone calls that Bradley made to my number. The emails have been saved. Solicitor called the car park security and found that incident had been recorded. There's a witness. And after a long exhausting wait at the hospital I have a full medical report.

Should I decide to file a complaint Bradley hasn't got a leg to stand on.

Late last night Solicitor paid Bradley a visit. I don’t know the details but when he came home he held me close and said that he’s taken care of it.

Exhausted and Frustrated

2008-02-05T10:38:00.001Z

Yesterday afternoon was awful. I couldn't concentrate on anything. Bradley tried calling countless times before I turned my phone off.

Bimbo called and told me that he dropped by and asked to see me. She told him that I wasn't in. I thanked her and told her that if he comes again she should tell him that I've resigned.

Gay Boss came to my office to speak to me before I left to go home. I wasn't listening to anything he was saying. He finally got angry with me. He accused me of not listening to a word that he was saying. Apparently I'm a selfish individual who doesn't give a shit about anyone but myself.

I fought angry tears as I hurried to my car. The car park was eerily empty. It was dark and cold. The lighting was extremely dim. Why had I never noticed that before?

I sudden movement in the shadows made me jump and drop my keys. I clumsily picked them up and got into the car. My heart was beating so fast. I was afraid. I don't know why. So I got a few phone calls from an ex boyfriend. It doesn't mean he's chasing me for Gods sake!

I don't quite remember driving home but before I knew it I was standing in the living room with every light in the house switched on. I decided to occupy myself and make a start on dinner. Solicitor normally gets home an hour or so after I do. It might break the tension between us if I cooked him a nice meal.

I slowly calmed down as I peeled potatoes. I laughed at myself for getting so stressed out. I was just checking the chicken in the oven when the landline rang. I jumped and burnt my hand on the baking tray. I couldn't help but cry as I held my hand beneath a cold tap. I felt exhausted and frustrated.

I was vaguely aware of the phone ringing in the background while I sobbed by the sink.

I'm not sure how long I stood there crying. My hand was numb from the freezing water but I didn't move. That’s how Solicitor found me. He walked into the kitchen and saw the open oven door, the half peeled potatoes and me bawling my eyes out.

He wordlessly walked out of the kitchen. He came back a minute later and led me into the living room. He held my freezing hand and carefully inspected it. I couldn't stop the tears from falling. He was so sweet and gentle.

He'd run me a bath. Nobody has ever run me a bath before.

He cleared up the kitchen while I got in. He'd poured too much bubble bath but it felt perfect. Maybe not perfect. I was slipping around and I couldn't get comfortable. I gave up after five minutes of trying to relax yet keep my head above the water. It did the trick though. I wasn't as frustrated as I had been. I felt safer.

I curled up on the sofa in the big ugly robe that my sister had bought me for Christmas. It felt amazingly warm and comfortable. Solicitor held me and kissed my hair. I love the way he does that.

"I tried to call you but your phone was switched off."

"I turned it off."

Solicitor was silent for a while.

"How many times has he called?"

"I don't know. Too many."

"You have two options. You could go to the police. They'll make you fill out a form. They'll question you for hours and eventually tell you that he hasn't done anything wrong so they can't do anything..."

"Or?"

"Or you can let me deal with it."

I haven't switched my phone on yet. I haven't answered my office phone either. Gay Boss is pissed off with me.

I need to sort myself out. I don't know what option to take.

"Elise-Babe" ....He makes me cringe

2008-02-04T10:56:00.000Z

I blocked Bradley's emails on Friday. I couldn't be bothered to deal with his behaviour. I didn't tell Solicitor about his last email. I didn't see the need to. As far as I was concerned Bradley was out of my life for good.

I was wrong.

Bimbo and I met up on Saturday for a shopping spree. We spent over an hour in Mother Care looking at baby clothes. Bimbo looks amazing. When people say pregnant women glow, they're not kidding. Her eyes have a peaceful sparkle. Her bump is starting show and she can't stop touching it.

As we were leaving the store I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Elise-Babe!"

Bradley was standing three feet away from us. He leaned over and kissed Bimbo on the cheek.

"Wow, you look amazing. Congratulations!"

Bimbo, being a naturally friendly person, giggled appreciatively and began asking him questions about his life. I stood by and tried to look as disinterested as possible. Inside I was fuming! My imagination started running wild.

Maybe he was purposely waiting around to see me. Oh my God! I'm being stalked! What does he want? Maybe he's wants the Cold Play CD back. He'd forgotten it at my place. Well he can have it back. I don't like Cold Play anyway.

"Elise-Babe?" He touched my shoulder. I flinched.

"What?"

"Can I take you fine ladies out for lunch?"

Before I could say anything Bimbo stepped in.

"Yeah! That would be great. I'm so hungry. Want to go to Prezzo?"

For fuck's sake! You'd think that she'd realise that having lunch with my ex boyfriend is the last thing I wanted.

"No!" I practically shouted. People walking past gave me a strange look. Bimbo looked hurt.

"You don't like Prezzo?"

"No, I don't want to go to lunch with him!" Bradley sighed and slowly shook his head.

"Elise-Babe I thought we'd left things in the past. I've apologised what more do you want?" He turned and looked disappointedly at Bimbo. "I'm just trying to be friendly."

What an asshole! My hands began shaking. I wanted to hit him. Bimbo, finally understanding my anger, linked her arm through mine and began leading my away. She smiled goodbye at Bradley. I didn't bother looking at him.

I should have told Solicitor when I got back home. But I didn't. I didn't want to spoil our weekend with talk about my ex boyfriend. We ordered pizza and planned to chill out in front of the television all night. We were comfortably watching Pulp Fiction on dvd when my phone started ringing.

Withheld number.

I diverted the call and continued watching the film. Five minutes later it rang again. Solicitor paused the dvd and looked at my ringing phone.

"Aren't you going to answer it?"

I answered the phone.

"Elise-Babe! Miss you already."

I hung up. Where the fuck did he get my number? It started ringing again. This time Solicitor answered it. I could hear Bradley talking.

"Hey, you must be Elise's friend. Can you tell her that it’s a shame she couldn't stay for lunch today. I'll meet her for dinner tomorrow though."

Solicitor was angry.

"She won't be there. Don't ever think about calling her again." He hung up.

I knew what was coming. I knew I should have told him.

"You saw him today?" He slammed the phone down on the table. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

Solicitor went on a rant. He paced up and down the room swearing and shouting. Angry at me for not keeping him in the loop. Angry at Bradley for having the nerve to call me. Angry that Bradley had managed to get my phone number.

He’s still pissed off with me. I think he's slightly suspicious too. I don’t blame him. I should have told him.

Bradley

2008-02-01T11:29:00.000Z

I checked my mail last night and there were five new emails from Bradley:

You never emailed back. I'll see you at 8. You got my number call me if you're going to be late. Brad 11:00am

I'll meet you outside by the HSBC. Brad 6:12pm

I can't believe you didn't show up. Don't I mean anything to you? The least you could do was call! 9:02pm

Elise where are you? Call me 9:34pm

Look I really need to talk to you. What happened to us? You just stopped answering my calls one day. How do you think that made me feel. I need an explanation. You owe me that. 10:08pm

Needless to say I was a little freaked out. Not wanting a repeat of the fiasco the night before I showed Solicitor the emails. He was angry. Not with me, with Bradley.

"Do you have his number?"

"Its on a previous email."

Solicitor clicked on the first email Bradley sent me the night before and started dialling the number. I grabbed his arm in alarm.

"What are you doing?"

"Telling this piece of shit to go fuck himself."

I wrestled with Solicitor for the phone. He couldn't call Bradley! How embarrassing would that be? I started babbling in attempt to calm him down and stop him from making the call.

"Don't call him! I'll do it. Okay, I'll do it!"

I grabbed the phone out of Solicitor's hand and before I knew what I was doing I pressed the dial button. Bradley answered the phone on the second ring. I didn't know what to say so I stayed silent. Solicitor made a grab for the phone so I clumsily said hello.

I told Bradley that I was in a relationship and that I didn't want anything to do with him. I said it in the nicest possible way. Unfortunately Bradley has a talent for making a serious situation sound amusing.

"Elise-Babe. You sound angry! Forgotten how to take a joke?"

It pissed me off. He tried to brush everything off as a joke. I told him firmly not to contact me again and I hung up. Solicitor waited for me to say something.

"It's all sorted." I said brightly "He won't contact me again."

This morning I received another email:

Elise we had fun together didn't we? I screwed up and I'm sorry. We need to sort this out. You know you want to. Bradley

I guess it's not sorted...

The Ex Boyfriend

2008-01-31T15:32:00.000Z

Solicitor and I had a huge argument last night. We've argued before but it's never been this serious.

Solicitor had a lot of work to do last night so while he dug into the heap of files that needed to be read I decided to check my email on his laptop. I received the following email:

Elise. I miss you. I need to speak to you. Please call me or email me when you get this. I don't have your number. Whatever your situation is please call me. Bradley

He left his number at the bottom of the email.

Bradley and I were an item just over a year ago. Our relationship didn't last long. We were together for three months before he disappeared for two weeks without calling. At first I was worried that he'd been in an accident but I found out from one of his friends that he'd decided to go to Greece with a few friends.

Up until that point we'd had a good time together. He had a cheeky infectious sense of humour. I don't think we ever had a serious conversation. I cared about him but I don't think I loved him. I loved being with him.

When he finally contacted me after returning from Greece he acted as though nothing had happened. I didn't bother reacting. As far as I was concerned he didn't care enough to have a relationship and neither did I. We starting standing each other up. We went for days without calling or thinking about each other. I don't think we even officially broke up. We just never saw each other again.

The email was a shock. I have no idea why he would write something like that. At first I thought it was a joke so I emailed back:

Hi Brad. Long time no hear. Back from Greece yet?! Hope you're okay xx

I got one back within a minute of sending it:

Elise I need to see you. I'm sorry about Greece. Please meet me. Just the two of us. Like it should be.

I wrote an email back:

Brad I'm with someone. It's a bit late to get deep and meaningful don't you think? I wish you all the best. Elise xx

I sent it and got up to get some biscuits. Solicitor was still engrossed with work so I decided to make a cup of tea for us. When I got back to the living room he was on the laptop. I placed his tea on the table next to him.

"You want to tell me something?" I've never heard that tone from him before. His voice was soft but it sent chills up my spine. He turned the laptop so I could see the screen. Bradley had emailed back and it had been opened:

He won't find out. I'll meet you at the Arena at 8 tomorrow. Bradley

Solicitor was angry. Quietly angry. He sat in silence while I explained that I hadn't heard from Bradley in at least a year. The emails were a complete shock and I have no idea why he's decided to contact me. Unfortunately the emails that I had sent him hadn't been saved. The three emails from Bradley looked bad.

"Why were you going through my mail in the first place?" The words came out before I could stop them. I must have made me sound so guilty.

"You answered my phone when Aimee called, remember?"

"That was different!"

"How? You answered a call from my ex wife because you were curious. I opened an email from your ex boyfriend for the same reason."

"That was completely different! I thought she was in trouble. Which she was!"

"Don't give me that crap Elise! You answered because you wanted to know what was going on."

"You don't trust me!"

"To be honest, after reading that email, no I don't."

It was horrible. I started crying and walked out of the room. I needed to get out and take a walk alone. Solicitor stopped me with his voice.

"Elise get back in here!" I felt like a child. I slowly walked back into the room and sat down. I couldn't believe that he wouldn't take my word for what had happened.

"When you told me about Bradley you said it was a short pointless relationship."

"It was!"

"It doesn't sound like it from where I'm standing."

After hours of accusing each other of not having enough faith in our relationship I went to bed. Solicitor pulled out some extra bedding and slept on the sofa. I couldn't sleep. I kept looking at the bedroom door hoping that he would walk through it but he didn't. When I woke up he had already left for work.

My morning at work was horrible. I couldn't think straight.

Solicitor called me just before lunch. He apologised for last night. We spent an hour on the phone. I cried and told him that I love him and that I'd never do anything to jeapordise what we have. He told me that he does trust me and that he didn't mean to act the way he did. I'm glad its over. I can't wait to see him later. I miss him.

"One can only find himself if he is bored"

2008-01-30T11:46:00.000Z

Work has been very boring recently. Everyone has thrown themselves into their work. I normally finish everything that I'm supposed to do in the morning when my mind is focused. When I'm on a roll I can multi-task and complete a number of reports at the same time as well as email and call people.

Without office gossip to keep the rest of my day occupied I've been spending my time planning dinner and sex games.

I once read a quote in Readers Digest "One can only find himself if he is bored" Anon

According to this quote I am a nympho/ chef.

Yesterday I printed out around 30 different recipes before ordering a few sexy outfits; a nurse, a French maid, and a cute white lace corset. I planned recipes to co-ordinate with the different outfits. E.g. The French maid with butter and peach soufflé. I think I'm losing my mind!

When I got home Solicitor was already there and he'd started cooking. He's a good cook, he can compliment flavours with natural ease. He was making mint lamb with red wine sauce and potatoes.

As soon as I entered the kitchen I was itching to do something. I kept getting in his way as I tried to stir the sauce. He got frustrated and ordered me to go sit down. I couldn't keep still. I set the table and paced around for a while. I finally sat down and started flicking through television channels when Solicitor came into the room.

"Dinner will be about forty minutes... What do you want to do?"

I jumped on him.

Forty-five minutes later we sat at the table for dinner. Solicitor wearing a pair of boxers and I was wearing his shirt. The food was fantastic. I asked him what he's put in the sauce but he wouldn't tell me. He laughed as I listed every possible ingredient that we had in the cupboard before I finally got the combination he used.

"What’s wrong with me? I can't stop thinking about food and sex. Am I losing it?"

"Na you’re just thinking like a man.... with a feminine touch!"

This means war!

2008-01-29T10:26:00.001Z

I've seriously taken advantage of an easygoing boss for the last few days. I decided to take another day off on Thursday. The odd thing was that I had actually made it to my work building before I decided to turn around and head home. I sent Gay Boss a text on my way back:

Won't be in today. See you tomorrow. x

I did the same thing yesterday. I stopped at Costa for a coffee across the road from work before deciding to send another text and go home:

Not coming in today. Will be in tomorrow. Sorry x

Unlike most bosses Gay Boss didn't call me to lecture me on "giving notice of absence". When I arrived this morning (late because I spent half an hour in Costa contemplating on going home again) he acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He didn't ask for any explanation, so I didn't offer him one.

As a result of my tardiness Solicitor has received a good deal of attention at home. Last night I dressed up for dinner and cooked him another three-course meal.

Or rather I dressed down for dinner...

I pranced around the kitchen in a red embroidered black suspender belt and stocking set complete with a matching red bra and thong. I clipped around in the 5 inch black stiletto heels that are too painful to wear out but perfect for walking inside the house.

Solicitor arrived home from work warn out and tired just as I was setting the table. He stopped in his tracks and slowly grinned as he took in my outfit. I smiled back and carried on laying out the cutlery, trying to act as normal as possible.

"How was your day?" I briskly straightened out the napkins and clipped into the kitchen to fetch the salad from the fridge. I could feel his eyes on me while he took off his jacket and tie.

"Not too bad. Had a meeting to negotiate a loan for a big client." He casually brushed past me to get a beer from the fridge, lightly putting his hand on my lower back to steer me out of the way. He leaned against the counter and started talking about the boring details of the meeting. I caught the amused look in his eyes.

The game had begun.

We both acted as normal as we could. We spoke about boring things such as work and the daily news. Every now and then we'd take it in turns to "make our move". As we sat down to dinner I casually leaned over for the saltshaker, my breasts inches away from his face. I smiled innocently and continued to talk about the debate on Mc-A-Levels. Five minutes later Solicitor got up to get another beer from the fridge. As he walked past he paused and traced a finger from my neck to my earlobe. He knows that I get turned on when he touches my neck!

This means war.

Throughout dinner the two of us struggled to stay focused on the conversation. I slowly unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his belt free as we discussed the pros and cons of a property market crash. He in turn unclipped my bra halfway through the main course. He smoothed the straps down my arms, brushing my breasts ever so slightly before pulling the bra away completely.

The game continued well after dinner. We washed up the dishes casually turning each other on while we covered all aspects of economic and political welfare. He finally cracked when I brought out ice cream for dessert and "accidentally" dropped a little on my thigh. He leaned over and licked it up.

All hell broke loose.

This morning we argued over who had cracked first. I'm convinced he had because he leaned over and kissed me first. He's convinced it was me because he had every intention of pulling away and talking about income tax but apparently I moaned and "cracked".

Moaning is not cracking, kissing is!

Maybe we should have discussed the rules first.

Dental Plan

2008-01-23T12:04:00.000Z

I had breakfast with Stoner and Bimbo this morning.

We decided to meet at Granny's for a Full English Breakfast. By the time I got there Bimbo was sitting on the edge of the pavement outside heaving into the sewage drain. (The smell of crispy bacon doesn't agree with her anymore).

Being such a sensitive person Bimbo cried her eyes out for "ruining everything". She didn't mean to cause a scene but her raging hormones were attracting attention and sleazy smiles from the greasy men inside the cafe. I was desperate to leave and I practically dragged her away as she sobbed.

I called Stoner and told him to meet us at Costa instead.

Over muffins, lattes, cappuccinos and hot chocolates the three of us discussed work. Bimbo recently found out that our dental plan is going to be withdrawn soon. We're all going to be compensated with a salary bonus next month. I'm not too bothered about the dental plan. My teeth are fine and I've only ever used it to get them professionally cleaned. I'll probably put the bonus towards redecorating the bedroom.

Bimbo and Stoner seem a little more distressed about it than I was.

Stoner has fillings that need to be looked after. Well, he shouldn't smoke so much then should he? Stoner smokes about 20 cigarettes a day. And that's not including his spliffs. No wonder he has holes in his teeth!

Bimbo has a slightly more dramatic problem.

"Will bad teeth harm my baby's health?"

Stoner and I looked at each other.

"You're teeth are fine. And even if they were slightly damaged I doubt it will harm your baby."

"But what about its teeth?"

"What?"

"My teeth were wonky before I had braces! And I've kept mine so nice since, so that the baby has nice teeth too!"

I let Stoner answer this one.

"I don't think a dental plan will alter your baby's teeth."

Sometimes Bimbo can be so strange! I really don't know where she gets information.

Statistically the most depressing day

2008-01-22T12:39:00.000Z

Yesterday was statistically the most depressing day.

I woke up early as usual and turned on the television. The BBC News presenter joyfully told the world that it was going to be the most depressing day. I stopped half way to the bathroom and got back into bed.

It was a wonderful day! I called work at 8am and told Bimbo to let Gay Boss know that I had a viral stomach bug and I wouldn't be in.

I leisurely ate breakfast in my pajamas while I absently watched reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond and Just Shoot Me on Channel 4. I had a heavenly long shower and sang the entire Mariah Carey No. 1s album. (I love singing in the shower... My voice doesn't sound as bad with an echo!)

Since Solicitor was at work I took the opportunity to spend the day grooming myself. I finally used the manicure set that I've had for three years, I applied a soothing face mask and hot oil in my hair. I ran myself a lovely scented bath and drank cool glasses of white wine.

I spent the rest of the day preparing a wonderful evening meal. Solicitor was really impressed when he came home. I'd battered king prawns and made a Thai chilli sauce to go with them for starters. I made a Thai-style stuffed chicken breasts with coconut rice and vegetables as a main dish. For dessert I made cinnamon biscuits and homemade whiskey ice-cream. I can honestly say that it was perfectly cooked!

After yesterday I'm seriously considering becoming a housewife.

I completely forgot that I was supposed to be ill and I came in bright and early this morning in a wonderful mood. I bumped into Gay Boss outside Admin and he enquired after my health;

"How are you feeling Elise?"

"Wonderful! Why?" Oh Crap! "I mean... I'm feeling better. Much better"

"You look good...?"

"Yeah it must be all of that... um.. puking. Yeah it does wonders. Detoxes the body..."

I think he believes me. Good save huh?

He saved my life

2008-01-18T10:03:00.000Z

I ran into an old friend on Wednesday night. Not just any old friend but a friend that saved my life years ago.

I stopped off at a Tesco Express on my way home from work to pick up some bread. The mixed raced man at the till had a nasty scar beneath his left eye. And a dimpled smile. For a moment we just stared at each other as memories flooded back.....

Ten years ago my best friend Amy's mum died. She went to live with her father in South London. At the time South London seemed like a completely different city. There were hardly any tube stations going South of the river. Not many people from North of the Thames ventured to South London unless they knew people there.

Amy moved to Peckham in Southwark, the borough in the centre of the two neighbouring boroughs; Lambeth and Lewisham. All three areas were almost as bad as each other. I had always had an impression of Peckham being the same as it was in "Only Fools and Horses." It was nothing like it.

To get to Amy's house I had to change buses on Cold Harbour Lane in Brixton in Lambeth. Although the side streets in Brixton were probably home to crack houses and gun related murders, this was not the worst part of my journey.

The worst part was when I arrived in Peckham. Peckham, at the time, was full of rival urban gang members. The most well known at the time were the "Young Peckham Boys". They hung out in groups of over twenty, wearing hoodies to hide their faces and attacked and mugged people as they past.

South London was so different to where I was from. I didn't even realise there were dangerous gangs in London. I had always thought the gangs in London were like the East-End organised criminals like the Krays. The type that don't attack unless absolutely necessary.

The South London Press Newspaper was always full of stories of random stabbings and gun related murders in and around Southwark, Lambeth and occasionally Lewisham. The incidents never even made local news. The worst one I read was an attack in a Church at a Christening. A woman holding the baby was shot in the head and died immediately. Her purse was stolen.

These people were alien. They were so intimidating that I crossed the road several times on one strip just to avoid walking past anyone. I was only 15 and I was terrified of being pulled into an alley.

On one occasion when I was on a bus home from visiting Amy a group of teenage girls got on. As they brushed past me one of them tripped over my school bag. I apologised and moved the bag onto my lap. She turned and stared at me. I avoided her stare and looked out of the window. She kissed her teeth and pulled me to my feet.

"Oi what did you say?"

Her face was almost touching mine. I didn't know what to do. I had never had to deal with a confrontation about something so small. I tried to smile and apologise again. My heart was beating so fast.

I remember being pushed onto the floor and I remember being kicked by all of the girls. They didn't stop. My hair was pulled so hard that I felt chunks being ripped out of my skull. One of the girls constantly hit me in the face with a plastic bottle. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my side. It felt so cold. Shockingly cold. I instinctively held my side. Blood oozed through my fingers. I began shaking uncontrollably.

Although the bus had stopped, nobody on the bus moved to help. I think a few just got off and walked away.

Through my blurry vision I remember seeing a tall guy jump on to the bus and pull a girl away. She turned around and stabbed him in the face with her penknife before jumping off the bus with the other girls closely behind. The guy sank down next to me holding his eye and crying out in pain. Blindly I reached over and gripped his hand. My last thought before I slipped into unconsciousness was that I didn't want to bleed to death without somebody holding me.

I woke up in hospital with my family at my side. I had 18 stitches in my side, a few bruised ribs, a cut above an eyebrow, bruising around my eyes and a few small bald patches from where my hair had been ripped out. The doctors said I had been very lucky. Apparently the guy who had also been injured held me and put pressure on my wound before the ambulance had arrived to stop the bleeding.

His name is Nathaniel and I owe him my life. He stopped and helped when nobody else would. Even though he got hurt he still helped me. He's four years older than me and we stayed friends up until I finished school. Seeing him again on Wednesday was amazing. We went for a drink after his shift and caught up on life. A life that I may not have had if he had not stopped.

For a long time after I recovered from the attack I thought about what had happened. It was awful that people would hurt others in such a way without reason. Although the police were very helpful they never caught the girls that did it. The story was kept away from the press like so many others.

The first incident in that I remember reaching national news was two years later when a young boy was stabbed in the leg with a glass bottle outside Peckham library. His name was Damilola Taylor and he died at 10 years old.

Good! Now do it a hundred times.

2008-01-16T09:35:00.000Z

Yesterday I thought it was time that I joined a new gym close to my new home. I googled local gyms and sports centres and I found a place called "Panther". Membership is cheap and they offer personal training specialising in kick-boxing. I decided to call and book in an induction and a training session. They booked me in for 6pm. My trainer's name is Ayudeji Jiddy.

Panther is situated near an industrial estate down a quiet road. I walked up and down the road six times before I spotted the tattered sign above the door of a small building. No wonder membership is cheap!

The inside of the building reminded me of the gym in Rocky. There was a boxing ring centred in the middle of the large hall with punch bags on the sidelines. The CV machines and weights were in an adjoining room. Unlike most gyms that are normally full of fat people trying to get healthy or sports people that are maintaining a toned frame, Panther was full of men with bulging muscles.

Shit! I should have just joined the Fitness First near Solicitor's work place. We could have trained together. Ran side by side on treadmills.

Ayudeji Jiddy (who insisted I called him Jiddy) has a strong African accent and looks a little like 50 Cent but with crooked teeth. He quickly ran through the motions of showing me how each machine worked before taking my to my assigned punch bag in the far corner of the big hall. He threw questions at me in a loud booming voice as he filled out official forms.

"What are you training for?"

This felt like an interview! A very scary interview.

"I want to get healthy."

Jiddy put down the form and studied me.

"You're not training as a professional?"

A professional? Is that what all these people are here for?

"Um... no. Is that a problem?"

"Eh! I'm glad! Your too soft!"

We began with an intense warm-up on the exercise bike. He increased the setting every five minutes. After half an hour my legs were pounding and I was sweating like mad. I was on the highest setting and I could barely push the pedal. I wanted to stop but Jiddy wouldn't allow it. He encouraged me to go on.

(By encouraged, I mean he shouted at me in his intimidating voice.)

After the 45min session on the bike he took me back to my punch bag and showed me how to punch correctly. He went through the motion slowly until I had perfected it.

"Good! I think you've got it... Now do it a hundred times."

After that he showed me a method of kicking. When I'd perfected it he said,

"Good! Now do it a hundred times."

Another method....

"Good! Now do it a hundred times."

By the end of the two and a half hour session I felt like I was dying. I was soaked with sweat and my muscles were killing me. I was desperate for a long hot shower. Jiddy has control issues. I'm not training for the Olympics I just want to get healthy.

My muscles are killing me. This morning I couldn't move. It hurts to pick things up. My upper arms can't take the strain. Walking is a challenge. This isn't right. I've had personal trainers before and none of them have pushed me this far on a first session.

I'm joining Fitness First.

Shoebox of Tampons

2008-01-14T11:14:00.000Z

I took Friday off from work. Gay Boss thought it would be good to take a long weekend off so I could "maintain my mental health". I'm not crazy. I'm just a little jumpy. Its understandable with all the stress that I've been through recently.

Anyway, I took this opportunity to move the bulk of my things to Solicitors place. Yes, he asked me to move in with him! I know its soon. Its only been two months but it makes sense. I'm always staying at his place, I may as well move in. Financially it will save a lot of money. I can let out my place and the rent will cover mortgage payments. Solicitor has already paid off his mortgage so all I'll really have to do is help out with bills.

Everything was going so well. We cooked a lovely meal together on Friday to celebrate. We finished a bottle of wine and half a bottle of Jack Daniels and spent the night talking about everything. We decided to move the furniture around and we talked about redecorating the bedroom. I love the bedroom just as it is. The only thing I would change is the carpet. A wooden floor with a nice rug would look so much nicer.

On Saturday I started to freak out. Not about commitment but about my tampons. I didn't know where to unpack them. I couldn't put them in the bathroom cabinet next to his shaving foam could I? I couldn't put them in my underwear draw since it was was filled to the brim. (I recently bought lots of sexy underwear.)

As I looked through my toiletry box I started freaking out a little more. Body Shop Warming Face Mask. How the hell was I going to apply it without Solicitor seeing? He's not stupid. I'm sure he knows that I have a grooming ritual. But he's not supposed to see it! Even if its not on my face I don't want him to find face mask, tampons, epilator, hot hair oil just lying around the house. I was hoping to keep up the charade of "I look naturally gorgeous".

I'm not one of those women that wakes up and applies make up straight away. I've spent days walking around Solicitors place in joggers without make-up and without brushing my hair and I know I don't look bad. Its the under-cover grooming that makes the difference; the hot oil that I apply to my hair once a week that keeps it so thick and silky so I don't have to blow dry or straighten it, the warming face mask keeps my face blemish free so I don't have to wear make-up, the epilating that keeps my legs smooth and hair free!

I panicked and called the Queen of Beauty.

"(Bimbo) I have a slight problem. What am I going to do about grooming and where should I put all of my tampons?!"

"Its okay! Use shoe boxes. Shove everything in shoeboxes and keep them with your shoes. He'll never look inside! Stay in the bathroom and turn the shower on. Do everything you need to do in the bathroom. Keep the door locked!"

Wow. It sounded like a rescue mission! Bimbo has been with Pierce for years. She moved in with him when she found out she was pregnant. I can't believe she keeps up the "air of mystique" even with morning sickness and raging hormones. On the phone she told me she swears by shoeboxes and loud showers.

I carefully arranged the shoeboxes full of toiletries inside the wardrobe. I placed the shoes on top of them to make them look inconspicuous. No. It looked wrong. I took the shoes off. Much better.

This morning, over coffee and pop tarts, Solicitor asked me if I'd unpacked the bare essentials.

"Of course! Why?"

"Well you've still got shoeboxes full of girly stuff. You might find it easier if you unpacked them in the bathroom."

Maybe I was a little over dramatic. So what if he's seen my box of tampons. He's not stupid. He knows about "the time of the month". And he probably won't inspect the tubes and bottles of toiletries to a great degree.

There's no way I'm going to walk around with goo on my face though! There are some things that I will lock myself in the bathroom and turn the shower on for!

"...I'm Gay"

2008-01-10T10:24:00.001Z

Lunch with Gay Boss yesterday was quite eventful.

He took me to a fancy Italian restaurant a few miles away from work. I felt so guilty. I jumped a mile when the waiter handed us menus. I couldn't even read the menu properly. I stared at it for ages thinking about Stoner sneaking around Gay Boss's office.

"Okay Elise, what's going on?" Gay Boss sounded almost like a father. He poured me a glass of wine and squeezed my hand. "Are you...ill?"

Ill? What a fantastic excuse for strange behaviour! Yes, I'm ill. I have an incurable disease that causes me to act strange and jumpy all the time. Its a nervous disorder called...um... nervousakiller...osis... No that sounds fake. Killernervousis...?

I thought about lying but Gay Boss looked so concerned I decided to trust him and tell him everything.

"(Gay Boss) we've been friends for a long time. Seen each other through a lot, right?" I took a deep breath and squeezed his hand for reassurance. He cut in and sighed.

"Elise... I have to tell you something..."

Holy Shit! He did have something to do with it!

"...I'm Gay."

Okay. Um... where the hell is this going?

"If I could choose any woman to be with. If I were straight. I would be with you. But the point is... I don't like women... and as much as I think we're close it could never work."

What the fuck! I really should have cut in but I let him carry on...

"You've got a good thing going with (Solicitor). I think you should work on that."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I really had to stop him there. I was embarrassed for the guy. "You're so bloody full of yourself! You think I fancy you?"

"...Well.."

"I know you're Gay! Why else would I laugh my head off when (Old Prick) accused us of having an affair?"

"You know? Shit! Is it obvious?"

"Not really. I think I'm the only one that knows." There's no point in telling him Scruffy Artist and Stoner know too. "I'm very intuitive..." I found the Gaydar web-page in your Internet history.

We had a little laugh. He looked relieved that he could be himself around me. I wasn't lying when I said it wasn't obvious. He doesn't look or act gay at all.

When the main course arrived I told him everything. I told him that somebody changed the Master Contract and I found errors in it that could potentially ruin the company. Gay Boss was shocked and angry. "I didn't fight my way to the fucking top just so some wanker can fuck everything up!" Whenever Gay Boss gets genuinely stressed he swears a lot more. He got to the point where every other work was "fuck".

I also told him the CEO wanted me to keep it quiet, even from him. Gay Boss wasn't happy with that. He was pissed off that nobody had faith him him. I agreed with him before taking a quick loo break to phone Stoner. I told him to get out of Gay Boss's office and leaved everything exactly as it was. What the hell was I thinking, accusing Gay Boss of all sorts of crap?!

By the time I'd got back Gay Boss had decided that we have to keep everything to ourselves. CEO must be having the company investigated privately. If we get involved then it may look like we're the bad guys. He has a point. I guess Solicitor was right. I shouldn't get involved. I should just go to work and do my job.

Its quite an exciting thought though isn't it? There might be a spy working for the company at the moment. Someone pretending to be a cleaner or a part-time worker. I need to find out who. Maybe I could help. Be an undercover agent for a while. With a gun and one of those miniature video cameras disguised as a necklace....

Investigate Myself

2008-01-09T09:05:00.000Z

I spent most of the day with Stoner yesterday. We locked ourselves in my office. (People must think we're having a sordid office affair!) I told him everything; the contracts with errors, hiring Solicitor, the phone call with CEO, keeping everything a secret. Stoner came up with the best solution to my problems... Investigate myself!

I love Stoner. He's the only person who would ever come up with something so exciting.

We thought of two possible suspects:

Gay Boss:- We couldn't actually think of a valid motive. He's a suspect because CEO told me to keep the details of the situation away from him. Gay Boss has access to the contracts at all times. It wouldn't be difficult for him to change anything if he wanted to.

Old Prick:- Revenge. Old Prick found it difficult to accept that he was "invited to leave". Initiating a law suite against Gay Boss a few months ago demonstrates his hatred for the company. He had access to the contracts at all times.

This is the plan so far:

Gay Boss:- The only way to know whether he's a friend or foe is to tail him. I've agreed to have lunch with him today to catch up on the last month and a half. We're going to an Italian restaurant a few miles away. (Gay Boss insisted on taking me somewhere nice to cheer me up.) Mean while Stoner is going to sneak into Gay Boss's office and look for anything suspicious. He has all the computer passwords etc.

I feel really guilty about doing this but I need as much information as I can get before talking to him. The last thing I want to do is screw up and tell him everything if he's got bad intentions.

I hope Stoner doesn't find anything. I really like Gay Boss. How many other bosses take employees out to nice restaurants to cheer them up? He's been really thoughtful the last couple of days. He thinks I'm having a real personal crisis. Which to a certain extent I am...

Old Prick:- This is going to be more difficult. The only thing we can do at work is ransack his computer and find information on what documents were opened and when. We have his home address but I have a feeling breaking and entering is a crime.

If we can't find anything on Gay Boss we'll think of a decent plan to investigate Old Prick.

The loose ends:- Solicitor knows everything. He's slightly sceptical about our plan. (By 'slightly' I mean he stalked up and down the living room telling me I've completely lost my mind and that I should just stay out of it before I get into trouble. I think the term "You are crazy Elise!" was said quite a few times. He looks so sexy when he's angry!)

Solicitor has sent the invoice directly to CEO so that Gay Boss doesn't find out that I hired a lawyer. CEO couldn't believe "how clever" I was to have taken care of that hiccup. Honestly, how stupid does he think I am?

Locked In

2008-01-07T13:28:00.000Z

Its okay. I'm fine.

Gay Boss is back. He had a wonderful time in South America (despite being mugged by a cab driver in Brazil). We were supposed to have lunch together so we could catch up on everything. I tired to stay calm and collected but:

a) I'm praying that Alec hasn't said anything about me accidentally going into Gay Boss's msn account and accidentally arranging a date with a guy that I accidentally found from the Gaydar website.

b) I'm still in a dilemma. What shall I do about the situation with the contracts? I'm worried that Gay Boss might be involved with changing them. At first I was convinced that Old Prick changed them before he got sacked, but the more I think about it the more I think Gay Boss has something to do with it. Why else would CEO swear me to secrecy?

Because of the two points above I did something very random. I walked into my office and lock myself inside. Its nothing too dramatic. I didn't call anyone and threaten to kill myself or anything and I'm not the first employee to do this. Scruffy Artist has done it a few times. But he's a moody, arty type of person. Its not like me to do anything like this.

Gay Boss knocked on the door a while ago. He sounded so sweet. He told me that whatever is bothering me he's here for me. What a way to make me feel guilty! Bimbo called and left a few hysterical messages. She thinks I've snapped and gone into an acute phase of depression. I called Stoner to tell him that I'm okay, I just need some time alone. He's told everyone to leave me alone for a while.

I'm okay though. I've spent a few hours at my computer catching up on reports to occupy my mind. I'll have to wait until everybody has gone home later before coming out. I feel so stupid. If I come out now they'll be lots of people asking questions. I need to pee. I wonder how long I can do this.....

Gay Boss Vs CEO

2008-01-04T13:56:00.000Z

I called CEO today. I thought I should tell someone and I couldn't get hold of Gay Boss.

CEO is a very old fashioned guy. Before he chose to become a non-executive member he had a large office with dark wooden furniture and a big moose's head mounted on the wall. No joke. Actually it might have been a deer. I'm not too sure. He always insisted on using the board room for all meetings, even if he was only meeting one person. He would sit at the head of the long oak table with the other person sitting at the other end where you literally have to shout to be heard.

He's a sweet man. Slightly sexist, but sweet.

After exchanging Happy New Years with each other I explained the situation. I basically told him that I had consulted a lawyer to be on the safe side and that the contract is currently being rectified. CEO expressed his gratitude and relief; "Well done Elise. Thank you so much for informing me. My God you are a clever girl aren't you?"

We spoke for another few minutes before saying out goodbyes. Before I rang off he said something very odd;

"Elise I want you to do something for me. This is very, very important." (he only ever says "very" twice when he's talking to a woman)

"Sure"

"Don't tell anyone about this contract business. Not even (Gay Boss). This is important."

"...Okay..."

This is ridiculous. How on earth can I keep this to myself? And why? Gay Boss is going to find out that I hired Solicitor when he receives an invoice anyway. Something doesn't seem right about this. What should I do?

Should I tell Gay Boss? He's going to find out sometime and I've always been close to him. I've never really lied to him. (With the exception of the time that I went into him computer and accidentally arranged a date with Alec the Camp Guy. And of course the other harmless lies; i.e. telling him that I'm almost done with a report when I haven't even looked at it, checking his email without asking, taking the odd sickie..)

Or Should I stick with what CEO told me to do? He said it was important... twice!

£500 an hour and a dull headache

2008-01-03T10:02:00.000Z

A hangover is not a great start to a new year, but I suppose most of us rarely begin the year without one. Mine lasted longer than usual. The dull pounding headache, sore throat, eyes threatening to droop shut, the nauseous dizziness. All symptoms still present.

It was still dark outside when I arrived to work yesterday (and today). My desk was in an absolute mess; notebooks, stacks of papers, the coffee stained mug that I forgot to put in the dishwasher on my way out. What a wonderful welcome back.

I reluctantly started sorting through the stacks of paper when I came across a Client Contract. A wave of panic suddenly hit me when I realised that I should have signed and sent it off before I left. I flicked through the pages making sure that signatures were in the right places before scrounging around for a pen to sign my dotted line.

The pen didn't work. Thank God it didn't work.

I noticed a clause that I didn't recognise. I'm not a lawyer and I find it hard to understand the language of may legal documents. There seem to be too many "hereafters" and "not-withstandings" and "hearontos" for me to make actual sense of them. But even I knew that this clause didn't sound right:

In the event of termination by the Client, as set out in 8 a) and b) above, (our company name) shall reimburse the Client its Fee figured on the proportion of term served to the date of termination.

Reimburse the Client? For what? Surely if the Client wants to terminate the contract the Client must pay the Fee up until that point? I read back on Clause 8 to see if it tied in. I noticed that it had also been changed... ever so slightly...

I immediately jumped to the conclusion that the Client had sneakily changed it. But I had to be sure. The contract is a generic one that had been drawn up a few years ago by our lawyers. I just had to check to see if the changes were on the master contract. To my horror they had been made. I don't know when and I don't know how.

There's nothing like blind panic at 7:45am, especially if your head already feels like its been trapped in a vice. I rummaged around like a mad woman rounding up copies of all of the contracts signed in the last year. I spent ours checking each one for flaws. The complicated phrases were making my head hurt even more. The Client shall.... hereonto.... endeavour to maximize... in consideration with 4 c) and 13 a)....

I felt sick. I was sick. Gay Boss is due back on 7th January. I had to stay calm and get a hold of myself. Throwing up in the disabled toilets was not the best way to deal with it. What should I do?

The pin dropped. I actually laughed at myself before bursting into relieved tears. (I must have still been a little drunk.) My boyfriend is a lawyer (Solicitor!). Not just any lawyer, my company is one of his key accounts! All I had to do was call him. Call him and ask him not to charge me £500 an hour to help me. Call him ask him to come to my office and help me. Wait! Redo my make-up have a cup of spearmint tea and then call him.

He pushed back his appointments and came over right away. After leafing through the master generic contract he found more errors and more changes that I didn't see. Solicitor told me that whoever changed the contract did so with the intention of permanently ruining the company. Luckily there don't seem to be any problems with the signed contracts so far. I was incredibly lucky that I didn't send of this latest one.

I have a suspicion that Old Prick may have changed it before leaving. I can't be sure. If it wasn't him then it looks like we have a serious problem on hour hands.

Solicitor had to charge the company for his services yesterday. Three and a half hours is approximately £1750. Lawyers don't work for free apparently. Gay Boss threw a fit the last time I took a client out for coffee and billed the company £147.67 (I got a bit carried away and took her out to lunch too). I hope he understands that this was a real emergency.

So much for me handling everything...

Italy... I wish!

2007-12-21T10:01:00.001Z

We didn't drive to Italy. We both have jobs remember? I would love to spend the rest of the year traipsing through Europe, spending all my money and having wild adventures but I had to get back to work to sign the company Christmas Cards, rearrange my desk and set up meetings for the new year. Bollocks!

Stoner got back from Amsterdam yesterday especially for the Christmas Party. Bad news. There isn't one this year. (Unless you call the Accounts department meeting for a drinks at the local bar a party. I'd rather go home and watch Eastenders...) All the fun people are away this year. Gay Boss is still in South America, Bimbo is still off work and Scruffy Artist is still too moody to talk to people. He's still refusing to unlock his office door, claiming that he needs to concentrate.

The last time Scruffy Artist locked himself in his office his girlfriend cheated and left him for the bass guitarist of "Eat My Nuts"; the rock band that play at the local pub on the first Friday of every month. I've seen them play once and they sound awful! If there was ever a reason to commit suicide... I'll probably try speak to Scruffy Artist later and find out whats eating him up.

I like to help people with their problems. I think this stems from my urge to know about everyone's lives. Whenever I meet a new person I'm curious to find out as much as I can about them. I like piecing together the little bits of information I have and building a picture.

Scruffy Artist is difficult to evaluate. He's very quiet most of the time and he's reluctant to share his personal problems with anyone. I found out about his girlfriend and the bass guitarist by doing a little digging around. I spoke to a few people. Spied on the band for a bit.... Well I had to find out what was wrong with him didn't I? It was driving me crazy!

Now that Stoner's back I think the two of us have some intense detective work to keep us occupied until the end of the day. Maybe Scruffy Artist is in love with someone... I would love to play match maker for a while.

Paris

2007-12-20T11:28:00.001Z

The drive to Paris was long and silent. Solicitor was lost in his own thoughts. Even though I was dying to ask him what was on his mind I kept quiet. The last thing he needed was me probing.

It was extremely late by the time we arrived at Aimee's town house. Solicitor unlocked the door with his key and walked in. An extremely tall, thin woman ran down the steps and lunged herself into his arms. She began sobbing uncontrollably. He led her to a nearby room and shut the door. I stood where I was for a few minutes unsure of what to do. I finally decided to go into the kitchen and make some tea. I sat at the breakfast bar slowly sipping tea as the hours ticked by. I finally fell asleep with my head resting in the counter.

It was bright outside when Solicitor gently woke me. He massaged my stiff shoulders while we whispered to each other. Aimee had fallen into a deep sleep on the couch in the living room. Apparently she had taken something when she called Solicitor. She freaked out and thought she was dying. From the way Solicitor was talking I could tell that she had done this before. He looked tired and warn out.

We quietly raided all the bathroom cabinets, draws etc and disposed of any medication. I found a shoebox in Aimee's en suite bathroom. The box contained a plastic bag full of white powder. I knew what it was before I'd even opened it. Cocaine. The box also contained a little bag of pills. The pills were imprinted with smiley faces. I was pretty sure they were ecstasy.

I walked into the bedroom and showed Solicitor expecting him to be as surprised as I was. He regarded the content of the box and sighed. He flushed everything down the toilet and replaced the box where I'd found it.

We sipped coffee and talked quietly in the kitchen while we waited for Aimee to wake up. Solicitor checked on her every hour to make sure she was okay.

"How long has she been like this?" I finally had to ask. There were so many questions in my mind and I couldn't hold back.

"A long time."

"Since your son passed away?"

"Before that."

Solicitor told me that Aimee had been taking drugs pretty much as long as he'd known her. She hid it well from him at first but things got worse when her career was put on hold when she got pregnant. Solicitor first found her snorting cocaine when she was five months into her pregnancy. She agreed to stop taking drugs as long as she could continue with her career after the baby was born. But things got worse. She refused any help and they quarrelled constantly. I listened for hours as Solicitor told me everything about the breakdown of his marriage. Holding his hand.

Aimee woke up late that afternoon. She looked so fragile standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She smiled shyly and apologised sincerely about "messing everything up." She looked so childlike I had to fight the urge to hug her and tell her everything would be okay. She convinced us to stay for dinner before driving home.

When I first saw a photograph of her I had been so jealous of her thin boyish figure and model good looks. After meeting her my insecurities vanished. There was absolutely no chemistry between Solicitor and his ex wife. Aimee didn't seem to mind my presence. In fact she seemed happy that Solicitor and I had found each other. She's a genuinely friendly person. It’s a shame she's so unsure of herself. She seemed so...lost.

Solicitor and I held hands as he drove to Calais that night. He frequently squeezed my hand and kissed my fingers. We shared my emergency cigarette as we stood in the cold waiting for the ferry. He smiled and kissed me. His nose was cold but his lips were so warm.

"Wanna drive to Italy?"

Amsterdam

2007-12-19T10:06:00.000Z

I'm late for work. Who cares. Gay Boss is away, Bimbo has taken the week off, Stoner is in Amsterdam, Scruffy Artist has locked himself in his office (he's slightly moody today), and I haven't bothered with the Accounts department. It gives me time to write about my trip...

Switzerland was truly amazing. We stayed in a wonderful hotel overlooking a lake. The mountains in the distance were breathtaking. I would have been happy to live there for the rest of my life... I'm not going to bore you with romantic stories. Besides, I'd rather keep those moments to myself for now. I may share at a later date.

It takes approximately 14 hours to drive from London to Switzerland so making little stops on the way back was part of our plan.

One of our last stops was Amsterdam. It wasn't technically en route but we both agreed that it would be worth the extra few miles. I called Stoner while we driving through Holland and asked him if he wanted to take a last minute flight and meet us there too. He agreed without persuasion.

We met up in a coffee shop called The Grasshopper. Stoner, being the expert on cannabis, chose a gram of Super Silver Haze from the menu. It was the most expensive thing on the menu costing almost double the price of the others. After rolling a spliff up Stoner took a long puff. He coughed deeply. Stoner smokes all the time and if he had a "virgin lung" cough then I should have realised that it was way too strong. I smoked it anyway and before long I felt the buzz kick in. I silently sipped my hot chocolate and tried to concentrate on the conversation between Solicitor and Stoner. The psychedelic dance music seemed to get louder and louder. I felt Solicitor push a bottle of water into my hands. He smiled and urged me to drink it. Did I really look that bad? God I felt like such and idiot!

We decided to pass on walking through the red light district. We'd all seen it before and it would have wasted time. We went to another coffee shop before stopping at a restaurant for dinner. During dinner Solicitors phone rang. He diverted the call without answering. It rang five more times before he switched off his phone.

Later that night he switched on his phone to check his messages. By then I was dying with curiosity. He swore under his breath and went for a shower. When it rang again I checked the name flashing on the screen. "Aimee"

Okay, I know I shouldn't have done it but I answered the call. Nobody calls someone 20 times in one day unless it was important. I couldn't help myself.

"Hello"

...Silence...

"Hello?"

"Are you Elise?" She knows about me!

"Yes. (Solicitor) is in the shower. Is everything okay?"

"I need him to come and get me"

At this point she started crying. Shit! Something bad must have happened to her. I started to panic.

"Whats wrong? Where are you?"

"In Paris. Please! I need someone here with me!"

"Are you hurt?"

... more sobbing...

I pounded on the bathroom door before walking in. Solicitor was standing naked in the shower with shampoo in his hair. God he's gorgeous! I told him Aimee was on the phone. He swore and quickly rinsed his hair. I handed him the phone and walked out of the bathroom to give him some privacy.

When he emerged he had a thunderous look on his face. Thinking that he was angry that I'd answered his phone I started to apologise. He cut me off and told me that he needed to go to Paris. He started dressing and packing and I felt a wave of panic. I sat down and contemplated on asking if I could come. Or maybe I should just give them some privacy. I was so confused!

"Elise! We have to go, can you start packing your things."

So I didn't even have to ask!

I called Stoner as we got into the car and explained that we had an emergency. He seemed too stoned to care. Probably finishing off that Super Silver Haze...

The shortest post

2007-12-11T11:44:00.000Z

This is the shortest post I have ever written....

I'm off to Switzerland for a week with Solicitor. We're driving through Europe and making little stops at hotels on the way. Hmm I wonder how many countries we can cover in the given time...

I hope that we stop off in Paris at some point. Maybe I can convince him to meet up with his ex wife. They are still friends and I am so damn curious!

Aunt Elise

2007-12-10T09:06:00.000Z

My sister is an "anorak" person. The type that spends her holidays taking long muddy walks with the dog and buys clothes for practicality as apposed to fashion. Her wardrobe consists of fleece jumpers, light blue shapeless jeans, mustard walking shoes, wellington boots and, yes, lots of anoraks. For her anniversary I bought her and her husband a spa treatment weekend (lord knows she needs her hair conditioned!).

Early Saturday morning I drove to Devon and picked up my nephew. I had offered to baby-sit for them while they "had a go" at the spa. My nephew is a sweet polite boy. I feel quite sorry for him sometimes. His parents seem to want to dress him in Trax trainers, fleece jumpers, blue jeans and, yes you guessed it, anoraks, without any regard at all to children's fashion. I know he's only 6 years old but children can be so cruel at school. The slightest difference can cause teasing. Imagine what the poor child goes through every day!

I grasped this opportunity to be Cool Aunt Elise and took him shopping as soon as we got back to London. Within an hour he was completely exhausted and I had successfully bought him new t-shirts, Converse trainers, fashionable army trousers and some sports hoodies. Children's clothes are so inexpensive!

Solicitor called me while I was driving home through the town centre. I had forgotten to bring my hands free kit so I put him on loudspeaker and asked my nephew to hold the phone up near my ear as I battled through the traffic. I luckily missed crashing into another car by inches. I broke hard and swore. My nephew found this incredibly funny and started laughing. I quickly asked Solicitor to meet us at my place and hung up. I spent the journey home explaining why swearing is very bad.

It was only when I arrived home that it occurred to me that seeing my nephew might erupt some bad memories for Solicitor. His son was around the same age when he died and his dark hair and large brown eyes were very similar to my nephew's. When he arrived I saw a flicker of pain in his eyes. He recovered quickly and offered to play Ludo with him while I prepared dinner.

When I'd finished cooking I found them both talking easily with each other. My nephew's eyes were lit up and he was animatedly describing his pet hamster. Solicitor’s eyes met mine across the room. I don't quite know what passed between us but I my heart felt so...warm.

Later that night the three of us sat on the sofa and watched Disney's Lion King. I'd dimmed the lights to create a cinematic effect. My nephew sat between us holding a big bowl of microwave popcorn. By the end of the film he had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Solicitor carried him into the spare room and pulled back the covers while I dressed him in his plain blue cotton pyjamas. The poor kid should have Looney Toons ones or something. What was his mother thinking buying plain Marks & Spencer pyjamas for a 6 year old? I must remember to buy him some new ones for Christmas.

A few hours later the two of us went to bed. It was the first night that we'd slept together without having sex. We were content with just holding each other through the night.

The quickie in the morning doesn't count!

Sexy Models...?

2007-12-07T15:29:00.000Z

I've never "hated" my body. I'm perfectly happy with my breasts, thighs and ass. I've never purchased cellulite cream or been on a crash diet or complained about being fat. I like the shape of my nose and my big eyes. I'm lucky to have thick, long hair. I don't have to blow dry it or straighten it. A few brushes with a hairbrush normally does the trick.

Last night everything changed. I spent the night at Solicitors and I found a picture of his ex wife. She is absolutely beautiful! Her hair is paler and blonder than Bimbo's. Its cut stylishly short emphasising her big brown eyes. She has a tall, thin model figure. Her camera pose is as perfect as Posh Spice's. The right amount of attitude that oozes sophistication. I suddenly felt frumpy and odd.... It was not a nice feeling.

Solicitor saw me looking at the photograph and he probably guessed what I was thinking about. He pulled me into his arms and told me that nobody has ever turned him on as much as I do. Now I know that all you guys probably think that's a great thing to say, and I suppose in a normal situation it would be, but it made me feel like a cheap porn star!

Solicitor's ex wife was a model! She used to strut up and down runways showing off fashion for a living.

Solicitor told me that models are not sexy. I beg to differ. If models do not have the "ideal" figure then why are they the ones modelling fashion? More people find Keira Knightly's boyish figure more appealing than Catherine Zete-Jones's curves....

Any thoughts or opinions?

The Elite Oxford Group

2007-12-06T12:09:00.000Z

I spent the whole morning playing Pacman on my computer. I made seven cups of tea, ate four Jacob's crackers with Philadelphia cheese and I rearranged my desk. What a depressing start to a day....

I decided to take a wander down to Admin to see if Bimbo was as bored as I was. I found her sitting at her desk intently looking at her computer screen. She jumped when she spotted me.

"I can't find it!" she groaned

"Find what?"

"The article on the Oxford University Orgy Parties!"

Maybe I'd better explain.

A new part time employee joined the company on Monday. He's a student at a local university and he's earning his extra cash by sorting out the incoming and outgoing mail. He seems like a very quiet, aloof person. Almost gothic with his attitude to social interaction...

Bimbo, being a sensitive person, felt sorry for him so she invited him to have lunch with us yesterday. Hoping to bring Weirdo out of his shell I began a conversation about university, something that he could relate to. I did not expect the following:

"Did you go to Oxford?" (At this point I thought; Do I come across that posh?!)

"No, Oxford isn't really my scene. I stayed in London."

"Damn! I'm dying to find someone who went there."

"Why?"

"Because of their elite drug and orgy parties"

Bimbo choked on a mouthful of chicken salad. I struggled so hard not to laugh out loud. Who in their right mind would say something like that to complete strangers? I thought he'd realise what he'd said and stop there, but no... he carried on!

Apparently, Oxford University have a elite group of people. Once a year this group meet for a "session". They meet at a barn in a rural field. The barn has blacked out windows and is fully equipped with showers, toilets etc. Before the group are allowed in the barn they must produce medical results for STI tests and they are searched for any cameras or other recording devices, including mobile phones. They basically spend the night taking drugs and "doing everyone" as Weirdo put it.

"Man, I'd love to be there! Can you imagine? Buzzing on pills and just doing everyone!"

I glanced at Bimbo. She was red and in total shock. The silence dragged on so I thought I should say something.

"So, how do you know this?"

"I read it in an article. The guy was actually there!"

I guess Bimbo decided to find the article herself this morning. She'd used every search engine and checked out every online newspaper. She looked extremely frustrated when I found her. I asked her why she was so upset. Tears welled up in her big blue eyes. She couldn't sleep last night. She kept thinking about England's politicians, top lawyers etc doing that kind of thing at university.

I calmed her down and said that Weirdo was probably making it up, or he was misinformed.

I wouldn't be surprised if it was true...

Dear sweet, innocent Elise

2007-12-05T09:23:00.000Z

a girl, a boy and me tagged me yesterday...

The rules:

1. Link back to the person who tagged you.

2. Imagine you could send a letter back in time to yourself, when you were 13 years old, what would you write to yourself?

3. Tag 5 people to do this blog

Glugster

Grilled Pizza

Hayley Emsley

poetikat's invisible keepsakes

a day in the life of Cindy

I like this meme, its original and interesting to think about.... Okay here goes:

Dear sweet, innocent Elise,

This is a letter from your 20 something self. You've just moved house and you've spotted the cute boy next door. He's 16 years old and he doesn't want to go out with you so don't follow him or bug him in anyway. You're only going to cause yourself embarrassment. You don't "really, really love him more than anything in the world" you don't even know him yet!

Consequently do not pluck your own eyebrows to appear more grown up. You'll never get them even and you will look awful for weeks. If you're desperate, go to a beauty salon and ask them to do it for you.

Do not wear mini skirts and cropped tops to appear more grown up. It makes you look slutty not 16. Wearing a long coat does not disguise your slutty clothes so don't try to get away with it by quickly sneaking past the living room. You make it way too obvious and you get caught. Needless to say your father will not be happy with you. (I know he's always angry at you but this time its really bad!)

Gemma is the one that spread that rumour about you kissing Bradley. Everyone knows that you didn't so don't worry about it. Gemma is just jealous because Joshua likes you. Yes you heard me, Joshua with the deep blue eyes really likes you. He tells you when you bump into him at a pub years later. By this time he has a girlfriend and you have a boyfriend and you don't really want to be with each other.

Your 20 something self is a very happy person at the moment. I have a good job, great friends, an amazingly sexy boyfriend and lots of hot sex!!Oops sorry didn't mean to scare you!

Stay true to yourself

Elise x