My Secret Lover

Mummy, he was
really a Power Ranger but, guess what? He was disguised as the Ultimate Killer
so all the baddies in the world would be tricked and he went up against the
monsters and the world was saved.’
    ‘Wow! What an exciting story! Did
everyone like Dean’s story?’
    General awed nodding.
    ‘Miss?’
    ‘Yes, Gwyneth?’
    ‘I’m frightened.’
    Conveying atmosphere is really more
Year Two, than Year One. We’re making marvellous progress.
     
    * * *
     
    Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beeeeep!
    ‘BBC Radio 4. The News at Five
o’clock.’
    ‘Aid agencies estimate that two
million people may die...’
    It’s always two million, isn’t it,
whether it’s starving children in Malawi, or a four-bed house in Notting Hill? Two
million for the new BBC corporate branding, two million for each of this week’s
Lottery jackpot winners.
    I wonder whether I’d be happy if I
won two million pounds. Obviously it would make a significant difference to a
teacher’s salary, but would it be enough? I wouldn’t be able to buy a house in
Notting Hill, for instance, not when you take stamp duty into account. But
would I really want one?
    I could certainly travel for a few
years. I’ve always wanted to travel, but I’ve never had the bottle, or money,
to do it alone. But with only two million, I’d still need to work at the end of
it, unless I got to grips with a Personal Pension Plan, or an Investment
Portfolio or something like that. I’ve never really understood how those things
work, and there comes a time when you’re a bit old to ask.
    Sounds ungrateful, I know, but I
think it would have to be five million if I really wanted to take the money
worries out of my life.
    Would I actually feel any different
though?
    Is Elton John happy?
    And why, with all that money, can he
still not get a wig that looks natural or just accept that he’s bald?
    ‘...It’s two minutes past five.’
    I think it’s the voice. Exactly the
same tone for the collapse of the World Trade Center as for the Queen’s Jubilee
concert tickets. During the beeps I get myself revved up for what’s happening
in the world. And then my mind wanders.

11
     
    My Inbox has three new messages.
     
    Lose weight AND save money!
     
    Don't put off a promising career!
     
    Re: Malibu
     
    I delete the first two before opening
Andy’s inevitable reply.
     
    L. I ignored the first two e-mails,
but after this last one I feel it's only fair to tell you that you're sending
these to the wrong person. Sorry to finish our relationship like this. With
very best wishes for the future. A.
     
    Very best wishes?
    Fair?
    Finish our relationship?
    He may be good at computers, but
nobody is allowed to call off an engagement by e-mail. No way.
    Click REPLY.
     
    Oh come on! One e-mail and that's it?
L
     
    Click SEND.
    A new message appears almost
instantly.
     
    L. Perhaps I didn't make it clear
enough. I am the wrong person. But you cannot marry him. A
     
    Is it a joke, or has he been
drinking? Neither option likely at this time of day.
    Much more likely to have been
something I said or did at our last meeting.
    It was a good meal.
    I paid.
    We had sex afterwards.
    It wasn’t even my fault about the
broken glass this time.
     
    Was it the tights? L
     
    Look, I'm trying to end this
gracefully, but you're making it difficult now. Goodbye. AX
     
    I wonder if he means anything by the
kiss, or whether it’s just automatic. Or perhaps he feels sorry for me.
     
    ‘Shell?’
    ‘Lyd, I’m halfway through a Reviving
Facial.’
    ‘Listen to this.’
    I read both e-mails.
    ‘Sounds like he’s chucking you.’
    ‘That’s what I thought.’
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘You don’t sound at all sorry,’ I
snap.
    ‘Don’t blame yourself.’
    ‘Why didn’t he have the balls to tell
me face to face?’
    ‘Plenty more fish, Lyd. Look, I’m
sorry, I really am, but I’m exfoliating.’
     
    *
     
    Michelle is an expert on Visage and
Revitalift and any number of age-reducing serums with V in the name. Who makes
up the names? And what are Activa Cell and Q10? Did I miss something, or did
they just appear one day, and get accepted into common parlance as if they’d
always been there, like Vitamin C?
    We don’t talk about wrinkles, say the
adverts, but Michelle spends her whole day talking about wrinkles. I sometimes
catch her zooming in on my neck, although since I’ve always followed her beauty
regimes, I shouldn’t have to worry. But it doesn’t work like that.