Sweet Revenge: 200 Delicious Ways to Get Your Own Back

tired of being used,' advocating that the form of revenge should be tailored to its victim.
    There are many people who believe that revenge takes care of itself and you don't need to lift a finger to help it. They are absolutely right in this case. Lady Sarah had the satisfaction of seeing Sir Peter sold down the river by the blonde who replaced her. Terry Graham-Moon revealed her bedroom secrets to the News of The World in July this year following her departure from the marital home, with the words: 'He's just a sex-mad dirty old man. Sex with him was so horrible I used to lie back and cry my eyes out until he'd finished - and that could take hours.'
    - with thanks to Nigel Dempster, who first revealed the story in the Mail Diary.
     

     
    The two-timing boyfriend had no sense of smell so Shirley, his cheated-upon girlfriend, devised the perfect revenge. She decided to spike his aftershave with pee from a hospital sample. 'It absolutely stank,' said nurse Shirley. It worked. Her rival, having a reasonable sense of smell, became totally disenchanted. He and Shirley are now back together.
     

     
    Having had a few days to compose herself after she had been dumped by her boyfriend, one young lady decided to weave a little fairytale around the whole episode in order not to lose face. She pretended to all their friends that he was leaving the country to take up a new job in the Far East. To play out her fantasy to the full she cancelled his milk, his papers and his cleaner and had the electricity, gas and telephone supply terminated. That was before she put his house on the market and sold his car.

     

     
    'This story relates to a period of much loneliness and intense introspection, after I had come down from Oxford University. A lady whom I had loved, but who had finally grown weary of my pursuit, sent me a postcard depicting the execution block in the Tower of London. On the back she had tersely conveyed the message that I was being given the chop, and that she would be marrying another gentleman - signing it curtly with her initials. The card was dated April 1st 1965.
    It so happened that I had in my desk a postcard depicting the Pets' Cemetery at Longleat, which I sent to her by return of post - dating it April 2nd 1965. On the back I inscribed the letters "R.I.P. - A".
    - with thanks to the Marquess of Bath, Alexander Thynne, who adds that, after an interval, they became the best of friends.
     

     
    'I heard this story of revenge when I lived in Africa: Daisy and Dick had been married for some time. He was not without his faults but she was the sort of wife that always tried to belittle him in public, especially when it came to his party tricks.
    'Dick had learned to read minds. It started as a party trick but often he had a run of luck and was able to say accurately which guest had chosen which object from the array placed on the dining table. Daisy hated the adoration this apparent sixth sense brought to Dick and she was always undermining his glory with the odd remark that "Uri Geller he was not." Dick bore this stoically but felt he could have had a little more support from his wife.
    'It was when Daisy returned to Johannesburg from Kenya on one of her visits to see her parents who had settled there that Dick knew she had been unfaithful. One of the many habits that Dick had that irritated Daisy was his smoking. He had tried many times to give up the habit but the will was always too weak - another Achilles' heel for Daisy to stick a barb into. ''This time," he had said to himself as Daisy's plane taxied down the runway towards the spectators' gallery, "I will give up." And he stubbed out the newly lighted cigarette on the floor.
    'Daisy gave him a very warm welcoming kiss and just as he was about to tell her of his new resolution she presented him with a carton of cigarettes. Never before had she given him a light, let alone a cigarette - and she was uncommonly nice. The details of her trip, however, were vague. From such a precise woman this was disturbing. Then there was the odd phone call to someone called Simon and a postcard came from Mombassa, Kenya, with the words "Never forget. S."
    'Dick confronted Daisy. He told her he knew she was having an affair. The reply was level and direct. Daisy was a good-looking woman and constantly used the mirror to see how her arguments became her. The reflection in the wardrobe's looking glass showed truth in all its majestic righteousness. Daisy was a leading