No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel (30 page)

Another silence appeared before Emily ushered it away.

“So I’m happy to organise this insurance then,” she said cheerfully.

“Are you sure?” he replied. “You must be so busy organizing all the other stuff.”

“It’s no trouble really. Everything else is under control.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Right must go. See you tonight.”

“Yep, see you later then.”

Drew put his phone down and stared at the professionally-taken engagement photograph on his desk and wondering for the umpteenth time if that was really him smiling back as though straight out of a catalogue. After a few minutes he shook himself and decided to check out how his fantasy football team was doing. The truly crucial issue of the day.

Chapter Four

Dear Suzie,

I have been going out with someone from work for over six months now and it’s been going really well so I decided to invite him to spend Christmas with me and my family. As you can imagine I was absolutely over the moon when he said he’d love to. The following day he sent me a text saying it was all over and he was about to book a Christmas holiday with his mates. He said he didn’t tell me the night before because he wanted to have sex. I still really love him and want him back. What should I do?

Yours

A Hopeless Romantic

She had their undivided attention now. The three men sat motionless, staring at her across the meeting room table, a whole myriad of reactions swarming over their faces as she finished reading out the letter displayed in all its glory on the projector screen behind her.

One look at Gareth, however, sent a wave of panic through her body. He looked confused, on the borderline of angry. Was she making a massive mistake? It had all seemed like such a good idea at 3am that morning when she was bouncing off the walls post four pints of coffee, three rolls of wine gums and two bars of Galaxy as a result of a late night garage run. Standing here now on the brink of professional suicide it seemed like the definition of insanity.

“I’ve realised that no-one gives the type of advice that would really be useful,” she’d said to her bored-looking editor at the beginning of her presentation. “No-one really tells women how to deal with the men who screw up their lives.”

“Suzie,” Gareth had said holding up his hand signalling her to stop. “When I said sort out the column what I meant was give me something to read that doesn’t make my skin crawl, and something that attracts more advertising. What I don’t want is some feminist bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” she replied trying hard to control her anger at his harsh words. “What I was writing before was bullshit. Pathetic, run-of-the-mill, send-for-a-leaflet, go-and-waste-your-money-on-counselling bullshit that every other agony aunt churns out. What good does that do? Have you ever heard of anyone who has saved their relationship by filling in awkward silences in a room with a middle-aged woman who asks about their irrelevant childhood?”

Gareth took a slug from his cardboard coffee mug without taking his eyes off her.

“Continue,” he said putting the coffee back down.

She glanced at Drew for some encouragement but his eyebrows were so far up his forehead they had practically disappeared under is side parting. She’d wanted to run it all past him that morning, but he’d been late in and had come straight to the meeting.

At that point Alex, the third man in the room, was fully absorbed in his Blackberry and barely listening to anything she was saying. She felt a shot of pure anger which gave her the boost she needed. She was still bristling from where he had touched her earlier after he strode into the room, running late.

“Good morning people,” he’d declared as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Sorry I’m late Gareth, but it’s been bedlam. I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to pull in a mega-advertiser.”

“Don’t tell me,” Gareth said through gritted teeth, “until it’s in writing. I’m sick of your half-baked promises. Now sit down and wait your turn.”

She felt Alex walk behind her, clearly unaffected by Gareth’s jibe. She hadn’t dared look at him, not entirely sure if her emotions were fully in check yet. But before he came into her eye-line she felt his hand on her right shoulder. She leapt up in her chair with surprise before he gave her a sympathetic squeeze and then sat down right next to her.

How dare he touch her? Sympathy and touching was for yesterday when he broke up with her. She looked at him in shock. He stared back and mouthed a silent “Are you okay?” before reaching out and giving her hand a squeeze and painting a fake concerned look on his face.

He didn’t have that look on his face now. He was all white and wide-eyed and slack-jawed. She’d had to cough to get his attention before she read out the letter displayed on screen, explaining that it was a mock letter used to illustrate her new style of column. Seeing his stunned face hardened her resolve. He deserved this. She deserved this. At some point in the dead of night she’d come to the conclusion she had nothing to lose. Her love life was a disaster and as for her career, well, writing an agony column wasn’t exactly fulfilling her dreams of being the next Kate Adie. So screw it. If it all went belly up she’d go and do an
Eat, Pray, Love
. Although knowing her luck it would turn out to be more
Eat, Pray you don’t get fat, Love being obese and a spinster.

There was no going back now. She just had to take a deep breath and go through with it and hope that she came out the other side intact.

“And now I will show you how Dear Suzie will be responding in the future,” she said leaning over to click onto the next screen without taking her eyes off Alex. She read out the reply letter slowly, allowing every word to sink in.

Dear Hopeless Romantic,

You are an idiot.

He doesn’t give a toss about you.

Please read the above sentence repeatedly until you believe it, because it is true.

My mailbag is full of women like you. Women writing to me seeking hope. Hope that there is something they can do to turn their nightmare into a fairytale so they can live happily ever after. Well listen to this.

Forget Hope.

Hope is not your friend.

Hope is the devil who will lead you to pointless desperate measures.

So move on. BUT not before you show this man that he cannot tread all over your soaring heart. Not before you teach him there are consequences to his actions. Not before you make him suffer in the same way as he has made you suffer. And if you can’t do it for yourself then do it for every other woman out there, to teach him that he has to treat the next one better.

So, Hopeless Romantic, your cowardly colleague has to learn not one, not two but three valuable lessons.

Lesson One: Never, ever ruin a woman’s Christmas

Suzie glanced up, her heart beating so loudly she was surprised they couldn’t hear it. Drew was still totally wide-eyed; Gareth thankfully was looking vaguely interested whilst Alex was staring at her as if she was a complete lunatic.

She felt like she was having an out of body experience. As though she was watching someone else make a complete fool of herself – or maybe that was wishful thinking. She tried very hard to look in control and confident as she leant forward to pull the speaker phone from the middle of the table towards her.

“Now for a practical demonstration,” she said pressing the redial button and sensing the three men in the room looking at each other in confusion. The phone rang out filling the silence until someone could be heard picking it up.

“Hello, Pauline speaking,’ said a woman’s voice.

“Hello Mrs. Collingwood!” Suzie jumped in before Alex could express his astonishment that she was calling his mother in the middle of a team meeting. “It’s Suzie here again and I’ve got Alex with me.”

“Right dear. How is he?”

“Oh he’s being very brave Mrs. Collingwood.”

“Is he? That’s good. I’m so glad you called me Suzie. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I know it’s very hard when you end a relationship but it’s so kind of you to worry about how Alex is going to cope.”

“With parents like you to help, Mrs. Collingwood I’m sure he’ll pull through.”

“Well we are always here for him, he knows that. Do you want to put him on and I’ll ask him shall I?”

“Of course. Here he is.” Suzie elbowed Alex in the ribs.

“What are you doing,” he mouthed to her.

“Just say hello,” she mouthed back.

“Er, hi mum,” he said holding his hands up in utter confusion.

“Oh, Alex I’m so sorry it’s not worked out with Suzie. When she called to tell me she’d ended it I could have cried for you, really I could. And she said you were taking it badly and that what you were most worried about was spending Christmas alone. Well young man you don’t have to worry yourself about that anymore. Of course we’d love to have you here with us. It’s been so long. And all your little nieces and nephews will love having their favourite Uncle Alex around for a change to play with them. I’ve already called your sisters and it’s all set. A Collingwood family Christmas is just what you need to get yourself out of the doldrums.”

Alex sat opening and closing his mouth.

“But Mum…” he finally managed to sputter out as he stared red-faced at Suzie. “I was going to…”

“No buts young man, you are spending Christmas in the bosom of your family and that’s that. We’ll sort you out son. Soon have you back to your chipper self. Now I’ve got to go as your Dad’s taking me down to Sainsbury’s to get the pick of the crackers. I’ll call you later to see if you’ve had a good day. Chin up son. Bye.”

The phone went dead and for a moment there was silence in the room. Suzie hadn’t really thought forward to this point in the meeting. Her heart was still beating exceptionally fast but she could feel something else, sparked by the look of shock and dismay on Alex’s face. Something that felt distinctly like triumph, joy even. What she really wanted to do was stand in Alex’s face and let out a highly juvenile “Waaaaaaaaaah.” She glanced at Drew. His eyebrows were still AWOL but he was nodding and smiling approvingly whilst casting the odd nervous glance at Gareth.

“Continue,” barked Gareth suddenly breaking the silence as Alex continued to reel.

“What?” shrieked Alex. “But she’s…” he started.

“Stop,” said Gareth holding his hand up to Alex. “I said you could talk when it was your turn. Now I want to see the rest of what she’s got. Carry on Suzie.”

“Okay,” she said. Not sacked yet, that had to be good. She pressed the button to move onto the next slide.

Lesson Two: Never ever use a text to break bad news.

She reached down and picked up her mobile phone, pressed a few buttons then put it back on the table, folded her arms and smiled straight at Alex. A few seconds later his phone bleeped causing him to leap up in his chair like it was a time bomb.

“Aren’t you going to pick up your text then?” she asked.

“What, now?” he said.

“Now,” she found herself bellowing.

She’d never seen him so wary of the device that was normally either glued to his ear or his fingers. He picked it up cautiously and clicked the buttons necessary to open the text she’d sent him. He looked at her nervously before glancing down to read it. Less than a second later he’d dropped the phone on the floor as though it had burned him.

“You’re insane,” he screeched. “Tell her to stop,” he shouted at Gareth.

Gareth said nothing, just raised his eyebrows questioningly at Suzie.

She bent forward to click onto the next slide.

‘This is the text that Alex has just received,” she explained to Gareth and Drew as three words appeared on the screen.

ONE WORD – BOBBIT

That was when Drew lost it. A sound erupted from his mouth like a small explosion, coughing and spluttering mixed with hysterical laughter at the sight of Alex’s ashen face. Gareth looked confused, glancing between the three of them in complete bewilderment. Suzie was quick to step in with an explanation.

“For those of us unaware of the plight of Lorena Bobbitt I shall elaborate.” She changed the screen to show a newspaper clipping with the headline CRIMES BELOW THE BELT: PENILE REMOVAL AND CASTRATION. Gareth gasped as Suzie described the infamous Lorena Bobbitt of Virginia, USA, and her extreme reaction to her husband’s misdemeanours back in 1993.

Taking Gareth’s subsequent smirk as positive, Suzie decided to press on whilst she appeared to be getting away with it.

“And so finally lesson three,” said Suzie clicking onto her last slide.

Lesson Three: Sex is a privilege and not a right

Alex was by now speechless looking pleadingly at Gareth who had leant back in his chair as the smirk grew into a broad smile. Suzie walked around the table towards Alex who flinched as she brushed passed to take an object from the shelf behind him, covered by her best Cath Kidston tea towel. She placed it in front of him before whipping the towel off to reveal a full knife block. Alex whimpered when Suzie removed a large carving knife with a flourish.

All three men were quiet now, a trace of fear flickering in their eyes. It felt as if the whole room were holding its breath until Suzie shrugged and put a reassuring hand on Alex’s shoulder, satisfyingly making him flinch again.

“Don’t panic, I wouldn’t use this on you,” she said putting it back in the block.

Alex sagged in his chair, emotionally exhausted.

“I think this is more your size don’t you?” She pulled out a small vegetable peeler, made sure everyone had seen it, then slammed it on the desk in front of him before calmly walking back to the front of the room and turning to face her audience.

“And that gentlemen, concludes my presentation,” she said. “Any questions?”

A shocked silence hung in the room, no-one having been prepared for what had just taken place and therefore what should happen next.

It was Drew who stood up first. Big hearty man claps filled the room as he positively beamed at Suzie.