sat up a little straighter. Round shoulders were the curse of the comfort generation.
Smile while walking fast. Don’t want to be old and fierce-looking with furrowed brow
3. No carbs. (January only) Fresh fruit x 5 daily. Espec. red peppers and tomatoes—antioxidants
4. Read one Penguin Classic every 2 months
5. Keep legs and bikini line hair-free even in depths of winter—remember am doing it for self
6. Be better friend, however busy at work. Owe Sophie and Mark at least five dinners—prob. more
7. Sort out nuclear winter in window boxes and try and keep them alive for more than two months at a time. Replanting is cheating. Water might help. Think last batch of plants were dodgy. Water. Sun. Photosynthesis. How hard can it be?
8. a) Have great sex
b) Have sex more than once
c) Have sex more than once with the same person
d) That person must be someone you have never had sex with before
9. Pilates or yoga? Research difference
Research difference? Ben scoffed. He was sure one was just the new-fangled version of the one before. It was all a gimmick. New millennium women were exhausting.
10. Streamline wardrobe. Be ruthless. Do not need another pair of black trousers, probably ever.
11. Buy anti-wrinkle cream. Is it too late once wrinkles have started to appear? Ask EJ. She seems to have inside track on new products
12. Buy night repair cream—why do repairs have to take place at night? Is it like roadworks? But no one has to dig anything up, do they?
13. Find tennis coach. Am too old to still have a crap serve
14. Try whisky again. May have grown into it now.
Ben grimaced sympathetically. He’d never understood the allure of cough medicine with ice or water, and despite David’s repeated determination to make him a man, Southern Comfort was as close as he’d managed to get to the whole malt zone.
15. Exfoliate
Liver now feels like is trying to burrow its way out of my back cavity. Sure in desperation it has borrowed water from other vital organs. Can’t rehydrate fast enough and have officially run out of soap operas, Australian, American and otherwise, to watch on apparently numerous digital television channels that I pay for. Hangovers definitely getting worse.
EJ says we have passed physical peak. Wish I’d known when I was reaching the summit. Should’ve had more random sexual encounters. Anyway, who says I need man to rescue me? Am perfectly happy. Wonder how Paul is? Oh, no. Usual downward hangover spiral and selective memory kicking in. Always wouldn’t mind having boyfriend, however unsuitable, on days like today. And if alcohol is a depressant why did I feel so good last night? Lonely. No one has called. Not even Mum. Don’t know why I bother to have answer-machine and call-waiting.
Ben shook his head. If she had just got off her toned arse and headed down to the pub for a couple of Bloody Marys with a buddy or two she’d have been feeling a lot better, he was sure of it.
Must call Sophie and Mark and say thank you. Not now. Probably still in bed. Not sure will make it out of house today. Maybe should add atrophy to list of skills to perfect this year.
All out of empathy, he flicked forward a handful of pages.
Jan 16th
Bad day. 1—Caught myself counting faint lines on forehead in lift mirror at 7:00 a.m. before remembering CCTV memo. 2—Richard called twice about having lunch to discuss my progress—more like his progress. 3— Departmental drinks tonight—decision to have onions in salad at lunch was wrong one. 4—Monster spot brewing on lipline, with roots in central nervous system and fast-track link to tear ducts. Have drenched in tea-tree oil and now whole office smells like aromatherapy zone. Have despatched Mel to buy industrial strength cover-up and air-freshener.
Ben yawned. Just reading her life was exhausting, but no wonder Adrian Mole and Bridget Jones were world-famous. It was mundanely addictive stuff, and without thinking he’d conjured up a mental picture of a black-trousered, ageing, hyper-active hunchback in need of chill-out, pilates and serve lessons.
Hope that someone laughs at early attempt to be witty before I lose will to live or they notice spot. Definitely should not have attempted pre-emptory squeeze. Lip must not swell. Are there genuinely confident people out there or are they just better at bluffing than the rest of us?
Sam sat in the conference room and watched the bubbles in her mineral water lose their battle to cling to the bottom of the glass before forcing herself to concentrate by diligently taking copious notes. Doing her utmost to avoid Richard’s gaze, even though she could feel him observing her from the other side of the table, she channelled all her positive mental powers of retrieval to the other side of the Atlantic.
Jan 21st—Edinburgh
Freezing my tits off despite two fleeces and long sleeved T-shirt. Perfect skiing weather, only there’s no snow and no piste. If I ever have hen weekend it will be somewhere hot and will not involve being hungover in hiking boots. Sunshine is glorious. Wind-chill is positively Scandinavian. Thank God Sophie has opted for London-based traditional drinks, dinner and nightclub approach. Hope Gemma not having some sort of travellers reunion on Designers Guild sofa and has remembered to feed George.
Hard to share after months alone, and probably impossible to ever find someone totally compatible post-Soph. Can’t believe G caught me waxing legs in front of Dolly Parton documentary on Thursday night. Now probably thinks I am some bluegrass nut. And all because I couldn’t face Newsnight. Miss the anonymity. And do miss topless cup of coffee first thing, pre-shower. Maybe am secretly some sort of naturist? Will actively discourage that tendency.
Deal should close next week. Hope EJ is still up for skiing. Can’t believe she is still sleeping with NG after everything he’s put her through. But apparently sex is awesome.
Ben stopped skimming. This was the Holy Grail of diary snooping.
Fact he is so well known has got to be recipe for disaster…not to mention the takeover. Have had serious chat and she’s adamant he’s got more to lose than she has. Therefore she’s safe. She didn’t even buckle at the Hello! spread. Perfect home, perfect children, perfect wife. But you can’t just go shagging the other side. Even if he did make the first move, how could she ever prove it?
A surge of adrenaline powered up Ben’s hard drive as he began to scour his archives. NG… NG…
Can’t believe it’s been on and off for 5 months.
Ben counted back on his fingers to August/September and added the details to his search. Still nothing.
She insists monogamy is flawed. I just don’t want to see her get hurt. Of course if you never over-estimate a man then he’ll never let you down, but she deserves so much more, and it’s not like she needs to be checking in and out of hotels midweek, even if they are all five-star. She claims it’s all on her terms, but how can it be when he dictates where and when? She says
