dumped him. He sent her a copy of the hit single by Celine Dion, Think Twice. She wouldn’t, despite the fact that they were both into the same mushy music. He was just too over keen.
Number Seven
Post Uni boyfriend who lasted for years but it just fell apart for no real reason. Soundtrack, mid-late nineties Blur, Oasis, Prodigy. That type of thing. He was more into the indie grooves. Jen, as you know, likes schmaltz but (shock) she then got into all the indie stuff too. Or at least pretended she did. Reckons this one could have worked out if they’d not both been so young and so stubborn.
Number Eight
Man with enormous willy. Was actually engaged to someone else, too goody goody to do it before the big day. He used to turn up late at night and throw stones at her window – pre digital-age booty call. No soundtrack, just sex.
Number Nine
Turned out to be married.
Number Ten
The husband. Tells me she married him because he asked.
Number Eleven
Post divorce love of her life. When it all fell apart she moved to Australia in late 2009. Able to get a work transfer very easily, she went, “bugger you” and did. Broke her heart, though. She still finds she gets a bit choked listening to Susan Boyle, but is happy she came here as Sydney is more fun than Birmingham, despite the man drought.
Number Twelve
Having finally worked number eleven out of her system, she met this bloke who worked in a prison and used to get up in the middle of the night for a fag on the balcony. I had strong (voiced) suspicions he had a wife and children in Coffs Harbour, to whence he regularly disappeared. Soundtrack. Come on, this was 2011, you’ve got to be able to guess this one. Yup, bloody Adele, that’s right. Someone Like You. Another someone like him? Please, no, but then there was:
Number Thirteen
Unlucky for some, and he really was – especially when he reappeared at Sandy and Big Charlie’s barbecue – how funny was that?
The Pest Control Man, or as we called him, Bug Man. Dumped her by non-texting which seems to be the accepted norm these days. She was upset despite the fact that –her words, “I never really fancied him anyway. He looked too much like my ex-husband!” Plus, he had a strange willy. It was short and fat, a bit like those very small tins of beans that old ladies buy.
So, why the hell did you give him your number? Or get upset when he vanished? FYI, Jen. Just because you have a bit of a boogie woogie with a guy at the Unity or the Orient, this does not in any way bestow a moral obligation to then hand over your number.
Number Fourteen
G3 you have already heard about. The one who failed to get excited that a baby orang-utan climbed onto his shoulder.
Can anyone be quite so unlucky? Okay, I got the ultimate long-term dickhead, who dumped me after a decade for a younger model, but why does she keep going back for more punishment?
Men have been the worst of her life. So why does she persist in believing that finding one would be the best thing she can do to enhance it? I think the problem is she is too giving. Sorry to say this, but being giving to a guy just gives them the green light to take. Take and take off. Even SB – some friend he turned out to be. I almost called him number fifteen but he’s not really as she was never going out with him. But she was a good friend to him and here’s the email he sent her last week:
Dear Jen,
Hello pet and I hope you are well. The thing is this. Maureen and I are going to make a go of it and she doesn’t want me hanging around with a younger woman. She who must be obeyed! So I wish you all the best for the future.
Yours very sincerely. SB
Maureen being someone else he met online, I gather. And where was Maureen when a crowd needed to be assembled for his birthday? Probably with some other online romance that went sour, so she’s now come back to him. Jen tells me she is relieved and I believe her, but what a git! So much for friendship.
Josie
Book Club. Newtown Curry House. Tuesday March 5th 7.00pm. Book choice Josie’s, Matthew Green, Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend .
“This was my best book choice ever,” I say. It really was. None of them can tell me this book wasn’t great.
‘It was,” says Kelly. “Not only was it very, very good, but it kept Fanny the lodger in her room for an entire weekend, which was bliss. She came out only to get more of that awful chamomile tea she likes, and to tell me she has decided she wants a child.”
“Because she liked the child in the book? I can’t believe anyone would be so silly,” I say.
“An autistic kid? Plenty of them at Cutekidz. I could kidnap one for her, no problem. Parents might not even miss them that much!”
“Ella!” All of us. As usual. We have at least one communal ‘Ella!” every book club, as you may have noticed.
“I’m just saying. What’s new with everyone, anyway?”
“We’re off to Bali soon!”
“Oh, yes, bone to pick on that. Charlie keeps saying he’s going with you.”
“Oh, bless! Sorry, El. Just Frank and I. We are so overdue for some time together. I cannot wait.”
How lovely that Charlie remembers we’re going to Bali and wants to come. It gives me such a warm feeling inside. I don’t want kids, as you know, but to know he talks about me is the nicest feeling. He is so adorable. Little Max in the book was adorable too. Loving a child must be so all consuming. I love Charlie so much and I’m not even his Godmother.
“You are funny, Jos,” says Ella. “You adore Charlie, you pick books about children. Great book, by the way. Made me really glad Charlie is normal. Well, normalish. Anyway, you’re such a mum in waiting.”
“I’m not! Frank and I don’t want kids. You know that. I think they are lovely from afar.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Truly, Ella. I like my ordered life.”
“Me too,” says Jen.
“And me,” says Kelly.
“You I believe,” Ella points at Jen. “And you.” She points at Kelly. “But as for you.” She turns to me. I ignore her.
“How good was the book at the end?” I ask. “When he was escaping? I couldn’t put it down.”
“Nor me!” says Kelly. “Sunday morning in bed, I had tea and crumpets and didn’t get up until 11.00am.”
“I read it Sunday afternoon on the beach,” I say. “Topping up my tan to get bikini ready for Bali. I didn’t even realise the tide was coming in. I just had to keep going to know he was okay. Where were you reading it, Jen?”
“On the bus home. Got in, carried on reading. Ordered a pizza so I didn’t have to waste any reading time cooking.”
“What a life you girls lead,” says Ella. “Uninterrupted reading. Do you have any idea what priceless treasure that would be to any mum? But you Josie – I know you, lady –you would give up all that freedom in a heartbeat for a Charlie of your own.”
This is uncomfortable and I’m grateful for Kelly’s subject change.
“How was the Rod concert?” she asks.
“It was great,”