My Secret Lover

stand
always being second best? Second-best daughter, second-best wife? Is it a role
I’m drawn to, because of Joanna?
    New Andy cracks open his third
sandwich rectangular prism.
    ‘I don’t know where you put it,’ I
tell him.
    ‘As the bishop said to the choirboy,’
he replies.
     
    Oh my God! New Andy is gay!
    I must have known all along
subconsciously.
    We get on, New Andy and I, just like
single women always do with gay men in contemporary novels. Hooray! If our
friendship continues to flourish, very soon I shall truly be able to say that some
of my best friends are gay!
    ‘ANYONE FOR THE BUMPER BREAKFAST?’
    My tote bag has blocked the flag.
    I blame my mother. If I put my bag on
the floor when we’re eating out, her eyes keep flicking anxiously down, and it
makes conversation difficult.
     
    *
     
    What does Ethan’s mother look like?
Think she’s exotic and slim.
    I can’t do exotic, but I can eat only
the egg and the beans (for fibre) and give the meat bits to New Andy, even
though he’s bound to say something about slipping him a sausage.
    Ethan’s dad is certainly more
suitable in every way.
     
    * * *
     
    ‘Question number one. What would you
use a bodkin for?’
    Richard has already written down
‘darning’.
    On the other side of the room Andy is
chewing the top of his biro. That’s another thing I don’t like about him. He
keeps spitting out yellow bits of plastic and the end of the pen’s all wet when
you want to write an answer down.
    Actually, I think he’s got a nerve
turning up.
    He’ll be hopeless without me.
    The second round is called Sons and
Daughters. He might just get Beatrice and Eugenie, but I doubt whether he knows
Peter and Zara, let alone Connor and Isabella, Phoenix Chi, Anais, Lennon and
Gene.
    Richard is very impressive at
countries of the former Soviet Union.
    I am almost perfect on Musicals
except I miss Carousel (I know the connection with Liverpool Football
Club is ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, but I can’t get Guys and Dolls out of
my head. As soon as Sky Masterson appears in the final question, I know it’s
wrong but they want the papers back in straight away).
    Richard does not slurp from the top
of his glass, partly because it’s a tomato juice, and those little bottles have
such a minute quantity in, they’d barely reach the halfway mark on the
wineglass.
     
    We win!
    ‘Let’s hear it for Richard and Lydia,’ says the publican, in the voice of the man who says One Hundred and Eighty on
television darts.
    I’ve become plain Lydia for now. It’s too soon after our break up to be lovely with someone else.
    The prize is a pair of T-shirts with
Smirnoff written on.
    The usual crowd clap a bit
grudgingly.
    I’ve shown the world I can win
without Andy. I’ve shown Andy I can win without Andy. (So good he turned up, in
fact.)
    I look at Richard.
    We have won!
    We are in love!
    That can’t be right.
    Even though he knew the Trent was the third longest river in England when most people would have thought the Ouse,
I do not want to sleep with him, therefore this feeling I have cannot be what
‘in love’ feels like.
    Very curious.

15
     
    ‘Oh, I thought I said,’ says Joanna.
    ‘No, you didn’t.’
    ‘Thing is, I’ve got a Honey Moo
massage in the Mongolian yurt at two o’clock, and Mimi’s picking me up.’
    ‘Who’s Mimi?’
    ‘My new best friend.’
    Joanna has a new best friend almost
every week. They’ve usually got something useful like a Lear jet or a private
island.
    ‘You know, once you’ve got used to
travelling by helicopter, you don’t want to go any other way,’ says Joanna.
    ‘Can’t you take the twins with you?
They’d love the ride. They could run around the grounds.’
    ‘Thing is, there’s a lake, and it’s
meant to be relaxing for me. Goodness knows, I get little enough of that,’ says
Joanna. ‘Anyway, isn’t there a helicopter ride at Legoland?’
    ‘If you don’t mind waiting an hour.’
    ‘That was the height of summer. I’m
sure there won’t be many people mad enough to queue in this weather,’ says
Joanna.
    ‘You know I hate theme parks.’
    ‘You enjoyed Sea World.’
    ‘Only because it was Florida. It was warm. There were beaches.’
    Still, I’m reminded that Joanna paid
for the whole trip.
    ‘Why can’t I ever be your new best
friend?’
    My voice sounds croaky, because I’ve
got a silly childish urge to cry.
    ‘You are my old best friend,’ says
Joanna. ‘My oldest best