Moving to a new pad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?