Time to return

I figured it was time to return.

Firstly, because Angel sent me a message: “What are you up to?!”. I thought “Wow, someone actually wants to know?”

Secondly, because it’s the first night of Euro 2012!

I must admit I was hoping to see some more drama at the opening ceremony.

I was expecting hordes of racist banners with right-wing angry hooligans shouting at the players.

I figured the players would storm off the pitch and UEFA would have no choice but to quickly move the games to Germany.

The BBC would excitedly report the news with knowing “I told you so” faces.

But alas, the game commenced with no real problem from fans.

England, however are still on guard. They’ve dispatched specialist ambulances around the capital to deal specifically with alcohol related problems.

What a wonderful message to send to football high boozers; “Don’t worry lads! Drink yourselves into a coma, there’s an ambulance outside this pub on guard to help.”

To be fair, there are still people in Union Jack outfits, roaming the streets, pissed as hell from the Jubilee weekend.

I bumped into a group of such drunk people yesterday. They smelt of urine, were caked with street dirt and were bragging about having to piss in the recycling bin.

I wrinkled my nose and crossed the road to the safer side.

Throughout the whole booze-filled Jubilee weekend I sipped my fruit juice and smiled with a I-don’t-care-I-can’t-drink shrug.

Secretly I was jealous. I wanted to drink with the others as we barbecued the over-priced, special Union Jack sausages under an umbrella in the rain.

The cold rain doesn’t bother the pissed individuals fighting over tongs.

Instead I sat in the warm kitchen and patted my little bump and quietly murmured “it’ll be worth it when you arrive.”

The Raunchy Book Collection

.”Elise darling, I found your book collection.”

“Collection?  The Roald Dahl? God I haven’t seen them in years!”

I read them all so many times I had to tape the pages back together with sellotape. Especially Matilda. And Boy! Boy was amazing. The rat in the jar or sweets! His nose hanging off his face!

“Keep them out. I want to look through them. Remember when you read me The BFG? A chapter every night?”

“No the other collection…” Grandmama said , meaningfully..

Other collection?

“Which one?”

Voyage of Sin. The Duke’s Secret Harlot. Lord Libertine. The Heiress and the Pirate.”

I froze in complete shock. I had completely forgotten about that collection.

My historical raunchy romances. I had a full range from Medieval Knights to Regency Society Scandals. I even harboured some ancient historical ones.

I used to hide them in a cardboard box underneath a pile of GCSE textbooks so Grandmama wouldn’t find them.

Well the jig was up, wasn’t it? She found them.

Oh lord, She must have flicked through to the pages when I’d folded down the corners!

I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and never come out.

“I must say, the scene where the King’s Knight seduces his betrothed without knowing who she is, is very descriptive.” Grandmama continued. “I’ve spent all day reading the entire book! Such scandal. And the story about the earl’s daughter kidnapped by her cousin. The handsome butler turns out to be a nobleman after all! All that time working undercover.”

“Grandmama, I didn’t-”

“Of course I would have confiscated them if I’d found them before.” She carried on. “But I’m not sure I would have thrown them out. What an amazing collection!”

She likes them??

The Heiress and the Pirate is a good read.” I said finally. “She stows away onto his ship dressed as a boy. the crew find her and the captain decides to protect her and keep her for himself.”

“Oh, I ‘ll read that one next!”

When I finally hung up, Solicitor gave me a funny look.

“What’s this One Night of Sin business?”

“Oh it’s my romance collection. Grandmama found it.”

He paused thoughtfully.

“Romance collection?”


“You actually collected that rubbish?”

“Rubbish? It’s not rubbish!”

“It’s porn for girls and you know it.”

“No, actually, the stories are very deep.” I retorted. “Its very informative about the time period. There are stories based on social class differences. There’s murder. Kidnapping. Did you know that Fitz means ‘illegitimate child of a noble’? Well I learnt that through reading these historical novels. So there!”


“Yes, as in Fitzhurbert meant Lord Hurbert fathered an illegitimate child. The child could keep the father’s name, providing Fitz was put in front of it.”


“Yes, very.”

He paused.

“So, it had nothing to do with the sex scenes?”

“Sex? God no, they made love!” I exclaimed.

He grinned. “Made love huh?”

“Yes, even the courtesans. They were experts in the art of making love.”

“And what made them experts? The heaving rise and fall of their bosom?” He asked drily

“No, the gentle, yet confident stroke of their tongue as they caressed their masters silken hot member. Their adoring eyes smouldering beneath full lashes, meeting his dark sinful gaze as they lustfully slid his strong cock fully into their soft mouths, groaning ever so slightly with pleasure as he filled them so deeply…

The caress of their fingertips, so eager to touch him in every way possible. Drinking in his pleasure as they sucked greedily.

The low moan in the back of their throats every-so-slightly vibrating his cock as he tangles his fingers into their wild curls, thrusting deeper. Savouring his every sigh as he comes closer and closer to spilling his hot salty seed into their willing mouths. Their eyes gleaming with hunger at the thought of the taste of his juices…

Solicitor stared at me.

I threw him a sweet smile.


The day I slammeded into the back of a taxi

Today will go down in history as The Day I Slammed Into The Back Of A Taxi.

So, I was a little late for an appointment. I woke up an hour later than I planned. Then panicked and hit my foot on the door frame in my quest to run to the bathroom. Ouch!

I washed my hair and soaped myself at the same time under the hot spray of the shower. Then I got soap in my eye and wiped it with a shampoo-sudded finger. Ouch, ouch, ouch!

I didn’t have time to dry my hair. I dressed quickly in a short pinstriped blue dress and pearl white pumps and legged it out of the door.

Don’t you just hate it when your late and everyone seems to be holding you back? Must be the Adjustment Bureau.

I glanced at the clock as I weaved through traffic. It looked like I was actually going to make it!

Then it happened. I got stuck behind a black taxi. The taxi stopped dead in the middle of a road to pick up a passenger.

I beeped my horn.

“Pull over!” I shouted out of the window.

The driver made no response.

I beeped again. And again. And again.

He finally moved off.

Then he decided to travel at the pace of a snail.

“Damn it!”

I swerved around, attempting to over take.

Crap, a fucking milk float! Weren’t they extinct??

I swerved back into lane, behind the taxi.

He was going seriously slow! I had to drive with my foot pressed on the bloody break.

I beeped him again.

No response.

I boot bumped him to a set of traffic lights. He stopped dead with no warning.

I’m telling you, the light was amber!

I bumped into the back of him. HARD!

I hit the steering wheel with my hand in complete frustration before yanking open the door.

“You asshole! The light was amber!”

A large bald driver emerged, red with anger.

“You smashed into me!” He yelled back. “It’s a 30 mile an hour zone!”

“Yeah so you go 10?” I spat back.

“Jesus Christ!” He glanced at the damamge.

It really wasn’t that bad a dent. I mean it looked bad, but I’m sure it could be hammered out ok.

“Look, what’s your insurance details?” He pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“Is this going to take long?” The passenger stepped out of the cab and raised his eyebrows in a sarcastic manner.

I forgot all about him.

“Some of us have places to go, you know.” He drawled.

I smiled at him sweetly “Excuse me. I didn’t realise that I was interrupting your two-day journey.”

“What’s your insurance?” The taxi driver asked again. “You got a pen?”

I excelled a breath of annoyance and stalked back to my car.

Seriously, I could have made the appointment. If only the idiot decided to do his job and actually drive. Some people should not be on the road.

I pulled out my details from the passenger glove compartment.

In hindsight, it may have been easier to open the passenger door to do this instead of leaning across the driver seat. The papers got a little stuck so I pretty much had to crawl through and yank them free.

I’m pretty sure I flashed my ass at the passing traffic.

But I was wearing black tights so… well it’s not like they could actually see anything!

Besides I was too angry to care. The stupid driver slowing me down like that.

“Can you both make this quick.” The passenger said arrogantly as I stalked back to the taxi driver.

I turned and studied the man.

He was close to his forties. Nice looking, in an old sort of way. Dressed in a black suit and a black business coat. Standing like the world owed him a living. Looking at me like I’d disrupted his life.

“I’m sorry.” I said sarcastically. “is there something stopping you from hailing another taxi?”

I stepped into the middle of the road and waved down an oncoming taxi. It pulled over to the curb.

“See, that’s all you had to do in the first place.” I threw at the driver, who was coping down my details.

The driver looked like he would quite happily push me into the path of the oncoming bus.

I marched up to the new taxi and yanked open the door. “Here you go Your Majesty.” I nodded at the passenger. “Its a shame you weren’t born with the brain to do that yourself, isn’t it.” I mused.

The passenger stared at me with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

He didn’t move for a while.

Ok, mate, you can hop into the taxi now, I thought.

“You’re staring.” I informed him helpfully, when he still didn’t move.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said cheerfully. “I’m married and I’m not into crazy suicidal girls.”

He climbed onto the cab and I slammed the door shut behind him.

What a dickhead!

I walked back to the taxi driver to retrieve my papers.

“I’ve put my number on it.” He told me. “But that,” He nodded to the slight indent to the back of his taxi “is gonna cost a bit. The whole back’s fucked.”

“Fine.” I said shrugging.

“You ought to watch yourself, love.” He said. “You were driving like a loony. You got lucky it wasn’t the front of a lorry.”

“You were driving like a tortoise.” I counteracted. “I wouldn’t have had to drive like a loony if you’d just pulled over when you picked up the other idiot.”

He shook his head and handed me back my pen.

“Are you alright?” He asked slowly. “Did you… bump your head.”

“No, why?”

He studied me for a few seconds before shrugging.

“I guess we’ll be in touch.” I nodded and began walking back to my car. “and…sorry.” I called.

He may be a slow coach but I shouldn’t have been so… bitchy…

I sighed as I slipped into the driver seat. I needed to calm down.

I took a deep breath.

ahhhh there we go! I smiled. Everything’s fine.

I started up the car and quickly swung around the taxi. No way was I getting stuck behind him again. Asshole!

The Asylum

SpringfieldNo joke, it was like the beginning of a horror film.

Getting lost in Springfield hospital, previously named Springfield Lunatic Asylum, was pretty scary.

I had a service meeting with one of the advisors based at the main building. Basically I was there to discuss one of the drugs that the pharmaceutical company that I work for manufactures. I won’t go into what drug, but I will say that it has nothing to do with psychotherapy. The healthcare professional just happens to have an office base at the Asylum, sorry, Hospital.

Springfield is a medium security hospital. Some patients are able fo roam freely around the site, while others are locked within buildings for safety reasons.

When I drove through the gates my first thoughts were: “where am I supposed to park, there’s bloody permit badges everywhere.”

So I drove all the way through the site and parked on the public road outside the hospital. I paid for parking and proceeded back through the gates on foot.

I have to say, Security didn’t even but an eyelid at me as I walked past them.

Building 1.

Building 2.

What building was I supposed to…?

I flicked through my appointment diary and found it.

Building 14.

Great. Just the perfect day to be wearing heels.

I clipped down a narrow pathway looking for signs to the building. They were sort of in chronological order, but it was hard to tell with all of the dead ends and winding pathways.

I followed the signs. Buildings 10-20 straight ahead.

I walked for what seemed like hours (amazingly it was only 20mins) when I reached Building 14, the office building. HCP was waiting for me at the entrance.

He used a series of magnetic keys through lots of sets of doors before we reached his office.

I must say the offices were very nice a cosy. Aside from the extremely high ceilings. And the long thin windows. And the weird smell.

The meeting went very well. I had a cup of tea and we spoke at length about the drug etc.

When I finally left, the sky was turning darker. I smiled my goodbye and set off down the path. I was feeling pretty happy with myself for fulfilling all of my objectives, until I reached a fork in the road.

The sign at the fork merely pointed out which buildings were the surrounding ones. There was no indication of the Way Out.

Which was fine. I mean, all I had to do was find Building 1, right?

Only, the sign pointed out Buildings 20-23 and Buildings 25-28.

So where was Building 24? Actually, forget Building 24 what happened to the Building’s going down in order? I should have at least reached Building 10.

Unless I was walking the wrong way.

I glanced about me. The site was deserted and suddenly extremely eerie.

The best thing to do would be to turn around, head back to the office building and start again.

I wasn’t nervous. I mean, that story about the escaped patient that stabbed that girl to death in 2005 was a total one-off.

Actually, no it wasn’t! I suddenly started remembering the other stories. Springfield Hospital Makes Another Fatal Error, Springfield Discharges Violent Patient Early, Security At Springfield Called Into Question.

I began walking faster.

I passed an old-looking church. I’m sure I hadn’t passed that before?

Where the hell are the Way Out signs?! I wanted to yell. Then I snorted an ironic laugh.

Elise, don’t be an idiot. They’re not going to sign post the Way Out if patients escaped in the past are they? Use your head.

I walked for hours. I found myself circling the same buildings. Or else they looked the same. Pathways disappeared and reappeared in a totally different direction.

Then I suddenly found myself at a very old large building. I squinted my eyes looking for the number.

“It’s the old building.” A scratchy voice said behind me. I turned and smiled politely at the middle-aged man “No one in there.”

It was getting really dark. Dusk was turning to night.

My parking ticket had probably expired. I may as well have parked in the carpark by Building 14 and paid the £90 clamp fee. I’ll probably have to pay that now anyway, I thought with irritation.

“Hi. Do you know where the Way- I mean, I’m looking for Building 1.” Better not mention the Way Out. I had no idea whether or not the guy was a patient. I didn’t want to ask out right. That would be rude.

“Building 1, huh?” The guy nodded thoughtfully. “You’re a long way from Building 1.” He stared at me intently.

I gave a quick chuckle. “Just my luck! Can you point me in the right direction?”

Hi eyes wandered down to my shoes. I followed his gaze.

“The wrong day to wear heels.” I smiled, feeling a little panicked.

He said nothing.

“So, Building 1…” I prompted again.

“They boarded up this building years ago.” He said gesturing at the metal boards on the ground floor windows. The other windows had old metal cages around them.

“Yeah, it’s nice.” I said hurriedly. “I really need to get to Building 1.” I paused. “I’m meeting someone there.”

“At Building 1?” The man asked searchingly.

“Yes, so if you could point me towards the right path I’ll be on my way.”

He slowly shook his head. “I’d better walk you there. It’s a bit complicated to find.”

This is the part in the movie when the stupid woman smiles and says “thanks” and follows the guy. She gets knifed to death 20 yards away from the exit. Then the film title fades up and the movie begins.

I smiled at the guy and said “Thanks.” He nodded and we silently walked towards a path.

I reached for my phone and dialed Solicitor.

“Welcome to the o2 messaging service. I’m sorry but the person you’ve called is not available”

Damn! I hung up and dialled another number.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Stoner! Hi, I was just calling to say that, um, I’m just walking through the hospital.”

“Ok… Why?”

“You know that meeting I had at Springfield was, uh, it went well!” I stammered.

“Springfield Mental Hospital?”


“You’re at Springfield?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re talking weird because… you’ve been sectioned?” Stoner asked drily

I glanced at the man beside me “No, don’t be silly.” I laughed “I’m just walking to the car. I got a bit lost so this nice man offered to help.”


“A patient?”

“I’m not sure. Probably around dinner time?”

“Elise, do not hang up on me.” Stoner whispered. “Hold on to your phone and pretend the conversation is over.”

“Ok, see you soon.” I said brightly, and pretended to hang up.

I smiled at the man “Thanks for helping me. I forgot to ask your name”

“Jim.” The man said gruffly. “I’m Jim.”

“I’m Elise.” I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you Jim.”

We crossed onto the wet grass. Each heel sinking, with each step.

“So, what do you do?” I asked cautiously.

“Nothing. I do nothing.” He stared straight ahead with an odd look.

“So. What are you doing, um, you know strolling around?” I asked.


The sun had completely set. The buildings suddenly looked scary and confining.

I shivered.

“You want my coat?” The man asked, unbuttoning his anorak.

“No. I’m fine.”

He shrugged. “It’s bad manners not to ask.”

I nodded “Chivalry is a rare thing nowadays. How much further?”

“Not far.”

We walked in awkward silence.

“So, what are you doing here?” I asked again. I couldn’t help it! I’m a nosy person.

“I’m visiting.” He said pulling out a visitors card from his pocket. He glanced at me. “You?”

“Meeting.” I told him.

“You a therapist?”


“I didn’t think so.”

Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?

“How come?”

“You’re wearing heels.” He shrugged. “They normally wear comfortable shoes. Makes it easy to walk. Run. That kind of thing.”

“Oh.” I started to feel a little bit more comfortable. “So who are you visiting?”

“Oh, no, no one. I lied”

Ok. No longer feeling comfortable.

“So why are you here?”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Because I live here.”

crap, crap, crap

I knew it! I knew I’d be the opening credits girl. Why couldn’t I be the main actress. The one that does all the research into the sordid past and survives?!

“Building 1 is over there.” He pointed. I saw the Way Out in the distance. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I squawked. And jogged off.

As I passed Security I knocked on the window. “Jim, that guy back there, has a visitors pass and he lives here.” I told them out right.

Ok, so it may have sounded like I blurted out a random statement.

“Sorry, I had a meeting here earlier. This guy, Jim, he showed me the way back here because I got lost. He has a visitors pass.”

The security guy nodded. “And where’s yours?”

“You never gave me one.”

“Ok so you don’t have to sign out then. You can go.”

Go? Of course I can go. The bloody gate is wide open!

They didn’t stop me on the way in. The probably wouldn’t have on the way out if I hadn’t knocked on the window.

And Jim’s armed with a visitors pass.

He was a pretty sweet guy. He’ll probably just roam around and help other lost people. Offer his coat to cold women. That kind of thing.

“The patient’s have bands on.” The security guy explained, reading my mind.

“Oh. Good. That’s good.”

“You scared the hell out of me, whispering like that.” I complained holding my phone receiver to my ear.

“Me? You scared me! You called me, remember.” He laughed “I swear I half expected to hear you screaming.”

“Jim’s ok.” I said, defending the guy that scared me. “Place isn’t too bad. Must be just bad press.”

“Yep, bad press and a few dead people.”

Dressing up in sexy bunny ears

Solicitor and I settled into the-life-of-a-couple so gradually that I hardly even noticed. Looking back now I see a total decline in my young adult social life.

No longer am I traipsing about the damp streets of London at 5am looking for a bus that would take me somwhere-near home.

I no longer have a wardrobe load of fancy dress outfits for themed nights.

I have no idea where my glow stick and whistle are.

I don’t leave pairs of shoes at my friend’s house after a night out and borrow a pair of trainers to walk home in.

I no longer have friends in the friendly gay community.

I no longer listen to, or can source, underground unreleased music on vinyl that only a few selected people know about.

I can keep a supply of alcoholic drinks without drinking it all on the same night of purchase.

Anyway, last night Solicitor and I settled down for a fairly usual evening. Dinner, talking, reading, tv, and bed.

As I emerged from the bathroom, dressed in cotton PJs and fluffy slippers I heard a commotion through the open landing window.

“Seriously guys, I need to pee so bad! I’m gonna knock on someone’s door.” A girl urgently called.

~a peel of female drunken laughter~

“Stop making me laugh!”

“Just go in the bush! We’ve got to get there before 12 or we’ll have to pay!”

“Yeah, just go in the bush! Hurry up!”

My immediate thought was “oh god, please don’t pee near my property!”

I leaned towards the window and peeked out, twisting my head to get a view of the street. Four women, they couldn’t be more than 20 years old, dressed up in sexy club outfits. They had accessorized with an assortment of bunny ears, cat ears, devil horns, angel wings.

I smiled to myself. God, I remember doing that!

Wait, what!

I don’t do that anymore?!

It was a fairly strange thing to think. I obviously knew that I didn’t dress up in a tiny red skirt and devil horns on a Wednesday night, but still! It was like realising it properly for the first time.

“Lauren for fuck’s sack, slow down! Bec needs to pee.”

“I’m telling you, it’ll take 15mins max to get there. Just hold it Bec and run! The quicker we’re there, the quicker you get to pee.”

~the loud clipping of high-heeled shoes stampeded down the street, quieter and quieter…~

I slipped into the bedroom to find Solicitor in bed tapping away at his laptop frowning in concentration.

“We don’t get dressed up anymore.” I informed him.


“We don’t dress up.”

Solicitor slowly closed his laptop and raised his eyebrows.

“What are we talking about?”

“Bunny ears. You know, dressing up.”

Solicitor grinned. “You can still dress up as a bunny for me anytime you want.”

“No I mean in public.”

He paused. “You’ve lost me.”

“Ok remember when we used to dress up in fancy dress to go clubbing.”

Solicitor shook his head “No, I can’t say I did.”


“No. Fancy dress is a girl’s thing. What’s your point?”

“Well I don’t do that anymore.”

“Because you’re not 19 anymore.”


“Um, ok.” Solicitor stared at me. “Have you only just realised that?”

“No. I’m just, you know, saying.”


I kicked off my slippers and settled into bed. Solicitor wrapped his strong arms around me, like usual. He feels so good! Seriously, I’m not just saying it because he’s my husband, but his arms are genuinely perfectly toned and muscled. His chest is so solid, but warm. Definitely my most perfect place in the world.

“You know matchbox cars?” He said conversationally.

“Yeah, what about them?”

“I don’t play with them anymore.” He deadpanned.

“You’re an idiot.” I told him affectionately.

He kissed my cheek. “Wanna play?” he whispered?

“Damn, I’ve just buttoned up this shirt.” I complained

“No probs, allow me. I’ll unbutton it.”

I sighed happily. No, I don’t run down the street with my girl friends on a Wednesday night, dressed up in sexy outfits. But I’d rather play in bed with Solicitor than dance in desperation for the loo.

That’s why I don’t do that anymore!

The Phonecall

I haven’t posted anything in a while. Probably because in the world of Elise, there has been nothing to report.

Apart from BIL’s wedding. But its a very long story, and I don’t have the energy. Besides everytime I think about it I think; Did that really happen??

And then there’s of course the new job. Yes, another one. I have a good feeling about this one… But for some reason I don’t feel like posting anything about that yet.

Mother, however, can always be relied on to make my furious fingers tap away, producing a torrent of swear words.

Last night Solicitor and I stood outside in the spitting, poor excuse for rain sharing a cigarette. Something we hardly ever do. We don’t smoke.

“You’re mother is impossible.” Solicitor rasped, taking a deep puff.

I pulled the cigarette from his fingers and did the same. “Tell me about it.”

I remember visiting Mother and Step-father when I was young. She insisted that I learned to ride a horse. I was terrified of being so high up. I could have quite happily stood next to the horse, stroked his face and talked to him instead, but I was hoisted up and forced to ride.

Sister was a natural. She would happily take long muddy walks with Step-father and Mother, come back and have afternoon tea and fruitcake.

Step-father (her real father) even showed her how to skin a rabbit when she was 8 years old!

I’d step back and watch the country life from a distance. The type of life where they’d go hunting and wear mis-matched clothes. They’d walk out into a field and take a deep breath of the fresh cow shit and call it “fresh country air”.

Mother always said that I wasn’t trying hard enough to like it. That there was too much of Father in me.

“Seriously, Elise, don’t take this the wrong way, but she really is a fucking poor excuse for a human.”

I nodded. She was always pretty severe as a mother.

Her hugs were stiff and she didn’t get the concept of “kissing it better”. She was more likely to say “Elise, tripping up was a very stupid move.” Forget my bleeding knee.

The smoking stemmed from the monthly phonecall she made to complain. Complain about my life choices.

That I’d never be welcome in the Country Club.

That it was “highly unfortunate that I’d married Solicitor when Tobias’s cousin, the one that owns that field, the large estate and the flock of pheasants. You know, Elise. The one that brought that tasty hare to the Benneton’s last September. Of course you were there. No, that’s right, you refused to come that day. Anyway, he’s on the market and already has a nice healthy mare.”

I stuck the phone on loud-speaker. Just so Solicitor didn’t think I was “taking it too seriously” when I burst into tears afterwards.

Solicitor’s face tightened in fury as she went on and on. She didn’t even pause to see if I was still on the line.

“I was hoping that you’d take a leaf from your sister. It’s such a shame about you. Your always looking at ways to embarrass me! You’ve had your fun with the portuguese man. Everyone goes through it. Your father was my distraction. But its high time you grew up and settled down.”

I hung up before she could go on any more. There was an angry silence.

“Are you sure she’s your grandmother’s child?” Solicitor asked.

I shook my head. “She was never like this before. When she was with my dad she was… different. Well, she was always cold, but…” I shrugged. “I suppose she more like my grandfather. Grandmama’s.. you know. Nice.”

“The woman may be posh, but she has no family morals whatsoever.” He bit out. “Does the sanctity of marriage mean nothing to her? What about values?”

“I told you!” I cried. “I told you that she’s like that.”

“Elise, I – my background has never been an issue with us.” He struggled with words. My heart leapt at the thought of what he was trying to say.

“I love you.” I told him forcefully. “From the moment I first saw you I wanted to spend my life with you. Mother can say what she wants. Besides, Father is of Spanish descent! She’s one to talk.”

“My God! Your poor father!” Solicitor shook his head in disbelief. “She used him.”

I nodded “I know. He was completely broken when she left him. Took his anger out on everyone. I sort of thought he hated me for a while, but it was just her. It’s like he was nothing to her but a rebellious phase.” I paused, trying hard not to let it get to me. “Too bad for her I got in the way of forgetting about him.”

“Even if you weren’t born, Grandmama would still be as close to him as she is now.” Solicitor said firmly.

We sat in silence for a while.

“I need a cigarette.” I said finally, choking back on tears and erupting memories.

The Little Bastard!

I decided to spend the day with Father on Saturday. It’s very rare that we spend time with just each other.

Solicitor and BIL were still fuming about Little Cousin. It didn’t help that she’d gone AWOL and stopped answering the front door and switched off her phone.

The do-you-blame-her opinion was not appreciated.

Anyway, Father and I met up for lunch at a local italian restaurant in Chelsea. After ordering our food I launched into a can-you-believe-how-stupid-BIL-and-Solicitor-are-being rant.

“The poor girl! You should have seen her face. I know the whole photo thing was stupid, but the two of them are acting like it’s the end of the world!”

Father frowned and played around with his cutlery.

“Anyway, she’s switched off her phone and refuses to answer the door. Can’t they just leave it alone!”

“No. They can’t.” Father said matter of factly. “I don’t think you understand how they are feeling.”

“What, do you mean?”

“A man has a need to protect those that he cares about. Sisters, daughters, cousins, even. Knowing that there’s a creep out there that violated this young girl must be killing them. If I were in their shoes I’d be the same.”

“It’s not a violation if she agreed to it.” I put in.

“You’re wrong. It is a violation of her trust.”

“At the end of the day, there are some men out there that do that sort of thing. Learn and move on, is what I say.” I said in a logical tone.

Father was silent until the starters arrived. He clasped his hands in front of him and regarded me seriously.

“As a rule, I have tried hard to avoid talking to you about this, but you need to understand how it works. Every man will hate any man who his sister, cousin or daughter is involved with.”

“But you like Solicitor.” I pointed out.

“Most of the time.” Father agreed. “But there are times that I could quite happily beat him to shreds.”

“Why??” I spluttered.

Seriously, they get on so well! Do I live in complete cuckooland that I hadn’t noticed this before??

“When I see him touch you,” Father said simply. “I feel like punching him in the face.”

I stared at him in shock. Father is not a violent man. Being of Spanish decent, he can be seen as passionate when he’s angry at times, but never violent.

“But you won’t.” I said, with a hint of worry.

“Of course not!” He laughed. “I’m just saying that every man has these feelings, even if they like the guy that is with their sister or daughter. Now imagine how a man would feel when he finds out about a complete asshole that took advantage.”

I thought about it for a few minutes.

“Oh.” I said finally. “I think I understand.”

We tucked into out starters.

“So you’ve felt like punching all of my boyfriends?” I asked with a smile.

“Every single one.” Father nodded.

“Even Mick?” I asked cheekily.

Mick was my primary school boyfriend. We were 5 years old and our relationship consisted of holding hands for a few seconds. Letting go and wiping them on our tops.

“Especially Mick.” Father said. “The little bastard!”

The Uploaded Photo

Last night BIL called.

“I need to speak to my brother.” He said immediately.

Now, BIL is the charmer of the family. He chats and woos everyone around him. To hear something so direct set alarms bells off on my head.

I handed Solicitor the phone and stood close by. I imagined awful news. Had someone died?

“What the fuck?!” Solicitor snapped.

Ok, maybe not a death…

“How did you find it?”

He listened for a bit.

“I’m on my way.” Solicitor slammed down the phone.

“What’s going on?”

“My darling little cousin has decided to pose in a naked photo, which is now all over the internet.” Solicitor informed me.

Uh oh!

“Oh my god, why? What?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.” He yanked on a jacket and began walking to the front door. “Are you coming?”

Hell yes! No way was I going to let Solicitor go by himself.

“What happened?” I asked as he started up the car

“My brother got an email from someone with the photo attached. He searched and found it online. He’s on his way to hers now.

Solicitor’s cousin is at university and lives in a flat near the campus.

I had an awful feeling that she had no idea that her over protective cousin’s were coming to pay her a visit.

“Does she know that your coming?”

“So she has time to hide? No. She doesn’t.”

Solicitor silently stared at the road ahead. I could feel the rage oozing from him. This was not good…

BIL was already waiting in his car outside her flat when we arrived. He exited as soon as we pulled up.

“I can not believe this!” He said without any form of greeting.

“Ok, you two need to calm down before you go knocking on her door.”

“Calm down?!” BIL exclaimed. “She’s naked all over the fucking internet!”

“It’s not that bad.” I reasoned.

“Not that bad?” Solicitor said warningly. “Do you have any idea how many sick, twisted perverts are looking at her right now?”

I couldn’t really comment on that.

I have to say, there was no one in the world that I felt more sorry for when Little Cousin opened her front door.

She knew exactly why they were there and terror leapt across her face. Followed by serious guilt.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” BIL began, pacing about the living room. “Do you have any idea what this does to you? Where’s your self-respect?”


“I can’t even look at you right now!” He continued.

Little Cousin followed us into the living room and sat with her arms wrapped protectively around her chest. She stared at the floor miserably.

“How did this happen?” Solicitor asked her harshly “Did some boyfriend of yours take it?”

Little Cousin nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Who is he? Where does he live?” BIL barked.

“This is hardly going to help.” I said reasonably. “Tell us what happened from the beginning.” I asked kindly. There was no point in making the girl feel worse than she did.

“We were just fooling about.” She began.

“Fooling about?” BIL said icily, shooting her a furious glare.

“Let her talk!”

“Yeah…. This was like months ago. Then we broke up and yesterday he uploaded it.”

“That sneaky son of a bitch! Where is he?!” BIL exploded.

“What the hell were you doing letting some guy take pictures of you?” Solicitor stepped in. “Where’s your brain?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen! We were just playing about on his phone.”

“Are there any videos?” BIL jumped to another conclusion.

Little Cousin stayed silent.

“Oh my God!” Solicitor breathed. “He took a video of you?!”

“I feel sick!” BIL said with a bitter look on his face. “What type of girl does something like that?”

“Where’s your dignity?” Solicitor threw at her. “You’re far to young to be doing… let along filming it!”

“Where is he?” BIL barked again. “Where the fuck is he?”

The same few sentences were thrown at Little Cousin for a good hour.
She sat in the same place, apologising and crying.

We established that: No, he wouldn’t upload any videos because she made sure he deleted them. Yes, this was the only photo.

“This is getting us nowhere.” I said finally after BIL and Solicitor had covered everything from Self Respect, to Honor. “We’re going round and round in circles. The poor girl is upset enough as it is.”

“How could you do it?” BIL asked her again.

“It’s not her fault if her boyfriend uploaded it.” I defended

“No, I mean. Jesus, LC, I can’t believe you’ve actually, you know.” BIL covered his face with his hands. “You’re not a virgin then?”

Even I cringed with embarrassment at that point. I mean Seriously? BIL’s not normally such an idiot. The girl had made a video and taken pics with her boyfriend.

Both Solicitor and BIL looked at Little Cousin, waiting for her to answer. And even in that situation neither of them could hold back the slight look of hope that she was..

The sheer disappointment that flooded both brother’s faces when Little Cousin slowly shook her head was crazy! They honestly looked like they were going to cry…


Jealousy is often paired with insecurity. In some cases this is true i.e. a jealous girlfriend checking her boyfriend’s text messages, emails, facebook for any hint that his eyes may be straying.

I also believe that no matter how secure a person is, jealousy still manages to surface….

Last night Solicitor and I met up at a restaurant in central london. He had an early evening meeting with a client and I couldn’t be bothered to cook.

As we ordered our starters, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Solicitor’s eyes darkened as he observed the blond hunk smiling down at me.

“Oh my God, Elise! It’s been so long.”

I looked up and beamed.

“Sam?” I stood up and gave him a big hug. “How are you?”

We stood apart and observed subtle changes in each other.

“Oh Sam this is my husband.”

Sam smiled politely and shook Solicitor’s hand.

“Married huh?” He smiled at me cheekily. “Congrats.”

“What about you?”

“Na, I’m still playing the field.” He shoved his hands in his pocket and shot me another smile. “Anyway, I leave you guys to it. Have a good night.”

“Nice to see you, Sam.”

As I sat back down Solicitor raised his eyebrows in question.

“Sam and I went to school together.” I told him.

“Were you an item?”

I laughed. “No! Me and Sam?!”

“It’s not so hard to believe.”

“No, you don’t know Sam.” I carried on merrily. “He was such a joker. Always taking the piss.”

“Nothing happened between you?” Solicitor prompted again.

“Well we kissed once.” I admitted. “We were at a house party, it was my friend Louise’s birthday. A little too much Malibu.”

I have no idea why I felt guilty at that point, but suddenly I wanted to erase what I’d said.

“Just one kiss?” Solicitor asked. He kept his tone light, but I saw his eyes darken a little.

“God, we were kids. Nothing major happened!” I said, suddenly a little irritated. Where the hell were those starters?!

He let it go. For a while.

We continued with dinner and once we began talking about our day, the Sam incident was forgotten. We talked and laughed with ease.

When we got home the conversation was brought up again.

“Was Sam your first kiss?” Solicitor asked, as I slipped out of my jacket.

“Will you let it go!” I snapped. “Do I interrogate you on all of the people who you’ve had any sort of contact with? You spend two seconds with a guy that I kissed and you get all jealous. I’ve spent hours in the company of your ex! You don’t hear me asking you for all of the details!”

“He was, wasn’t he?” Solicitor prompted, ignoring my outburst. “He’s the guy that you told me about. The guy at the party. Under the stairs?”

“If you want to know that badly, then yes. He was. Are you satisfied?”

I glared at him for a few seconds in the dimly lit hallway.

“You’re sexy, when your angry.” He said with a small smile. He kissed me fully on the lips, expertly using his teeth and his tongue, his hands lacing through my hair.

Even after years of being with him, one kiss can still completely blow my mind.

I moaned slightly when he stepped back. He laughed quietly. “Better than Sam?” He teased.

I narrowed my eyes furiously. He kissed me to make a point?

“No.” I lied tauntingly.

“Liar.” He whispered, pushing me back firmly against the wall. I clutched at his dark hair and whimpered as he dipped his face to the sensitive spot on my neck.

I guess a small amount of jealousy is good…

Stoner and French Sex

Email Exchange Yesterday 4:55

Stoner: Hey, how’s your day going?

Me: I’m bored. Tell me something interesting. What have you been doing?

Stoner: I watched Homes Under The Hammer. Made a bacon sandwich. Watched Frasier. Then Everybody Loves Raymond. Then Come Dine With Me. Oh and I think I’m in love 😀

Me: In love? With who? Tell me everything! 😀

Stoner: I went out with this girl last night. Just to a bar. She’s something else. We spent the whole night chatting up other girls. Then we went back to hers and I fucked her.

Me: Chatted up girls?

Stoner: Yeah. I got there a little early and started talking to a couple of girls. She came and joined me and did the same. It was crazy. Like she was using them to turn me on. She brushed this blond girls hair out of her eyes and said “you have the most beautiful eyes” then she looked straight at me. It was like she was saying “imagine me and this girl doing it.” She kept doing it, so i did it. I started chatting up girls and giving her the same vibe. I swear, when we left we were so turned on.

Me: How do you know this girl?

Stoner: She’s a cousin of this guy I went to uni with. She came out to his birthday thing on friday.

Me: A cousin? Or an escort?? Did you check your wallet?

Stoner: Hey. Don’t diss my future wife!

Me: Did you even talk to her? Get to know her?

Stoner: Well we’re seeing each other again. You know me, I like to take things slow.

Me: LMAO!! Slow?? Seriously?

Stoner: She’s french. In france they’re a little more attuned to their sexual side. The have affairs and shit.

Me: No they don’t! Where does it say that?

Stoner: It’s common knowledge.

Me: Seriously, they don’t! So you’d be cool if your girl kept multiple lovers?

Stoner: Hell no! I’m just saying, the french are like genetically more into exploring sex. Nothing wrong with it.

Me: Ok. If you want to be in love with a girl that uses other girls to turn on a guy she barely knows then that’s your choice.

Stoner: Who said I was in love?

Me: You did! Read back! Plus you called her your future wife!

Stoner: Ok I got a bit carried away. But seriously Elise. You need to meet this girl. She’s gorgeous!

Me: Not sure if I want to meet her yet. I’ll wait until she stops getting off on girls to get you to get off on her getting off girls.

Stoner: Yeah, actually it’s probably best you don’t meet her yet. I don’t know if I’m ready to have you in the fantasy. No offense.

Me: None taken. I don’t want to be in your fantasy 😐

Stoner: Crap. Now you two are in my head! :O

Me: Ew, stop it!:O :O :O

Stoner: I’m joking 😀 I’m still thinking about her and the blond. And me. And her.  Man, I can’t wait to see her!