Chapter Fifty - The Ghosts of Christmas Farce

Relationship Rehab - week 33

OK, so what do Love Actually, Bridget Jones’s Diary, The Light of the Silvery Moon, Nigella Lawson and Anthea Turner all have in common? Apart from the fact that they’re all SO last year? They all nurture an unrealistic view of Christmas.

The harsh reality about Christmas is that it’s about kids and couples and a huge quest for retailers to suck as much from our credit cards in as short a time as possible! Forget the snowflakes and hot toddy, lose any dreams of log fires and sheepskin rugs! It’s all a farce! There’s no mention of the hundreds of pairs of socks that men get on 25th December, or the rows over the remote control and the hours spent standing, sweating, over an uncooked turkey the size of a 3-year old toddler! It’s just not worth it! And then there’s the songs - I’ll Have a Blue Christmas, Without You! It’s all for couples and I’m delighted to announce that I’ll be in L.A. At least Christmas with sunshine will be slightly easier to swallow.

With only a few months of Relationship Rehab to go I have to say that it’s been a tough year so far. I’d hoped that choosing to stay single would mean that I had loads of free time to be just ‘me’ - but the reverse has been true. As I’ve spent more time alone it’s given me lots of free time ... time for reflection, self-doubt and recrimination ... time to question why I serial-date losers and why, to quote the book, “If I’m so ‘wonderful, why am I still single?” It’s knocked some of the edges off of me, which probably isn’t a bad thing, and given me a slightly more realistic view of what a ‘good’ relationship means. But I’m still in no hurry to settle for a ‘better than nothing’ relationship.
So maybe this rehab is working....

I won’t wish you a Merry Christmas just yet - we have another 3 weekends of raucous office parties and drunk revellers to endure yet..

Sophie.xxx

*

I’d promised myself a shopping trip after work but I’m just too tired. I know I’ll pick up something for Mum’s wedding in either Monsoon, Coast or Zara but, thanks to a spinach, pesto and pasta lunch I have an absurdly bloated stomach tonight. And no - it’s not because of something else! So I’m swerving the shops tonight and can’t wait to get home. It’s been a tough day and AJ was the most irritating women ever as she fussed and foosted about with the box of tired old Christmas decorations. She spent the afternoon draping worn tinsel over the guys computer screens and talked incessantly as she bent and shaped the wire branches of the ancient Christmas tree.

I think it was first bought when Woman To Woman opened - about 1968! I step out of work, in the dark again, to find that it’s cold and wet outside. Head down I brace myself, tightening the belt on my black raincoat, and make my way determinedly to the tube station. Can’t wait to get home and get out of these wet clothes. It feels like a night for pj’s and hot chocolate. Hmmmm..

*

I get home forty minutes later absolutely drenched. I’ve left my umbrella in my bottom drawer at work and the rain drops are dripping from my hair onto my cheeks and from the tip of my nose. Not a pretty sight. Forcing the key into the lock I stand on my door mat and peel my coat from me, only to hear Jen’s voice. It sounds as though she’s talking to herself, so when I check my reflection and see that my mascara has panda’d around my eyes and my hair is so wet it looks black, I make no effort to fix myself. She’s probably web-camming again. To be honest I’m a little concerned about her fixation with these dating sites and web cams. She doesn’t know I saw her, but when I got up late last night to go to the bathroom I noticed her, through the crack in her bedroom door, showing off on web cam. Showing off and showing all. She was cavorting on her bed wearing only a miniscule g-string and I was rooted to the spot, open-mouthed, as I watched her lift up her boobs and wiggle them to the camera with a giggle and pout. It’s like living with a recalcitrant teenager! So imagine how shocked I am to walk into my lounge and see her there - inappropriately dressed (I use the term loosely) in a pair of tiny shorts and vest. And Rob sitting in the armchair listening to her. I have to admit that I’m so shocked to see him here once again that I temporarily forget about my unfortunate appearance. I have to admit, he does look rather as though he’s losing the will to live. And I also have to admit that my groin kind of pings strangely as my tum flips - at the sight of his broad shoulders beneath his black t-shirt and his fabulous thighs, tight against the denim of his jeans.
Yikes!
“Sophie!” Jen jumps up as though I’d just broken in.
To my own home. She has the decency to blush a little.
“Look at the state of you, Soph! You’re dripping!”
It’s then I remember my wet hair, blackened eyes and streaked cheeks. Instinctively I bring my hands to my face and rub it,
“Oh, yeah. It’s hell out there tonight.”
Rob stands, unfolding himself before me and I feel myself slowly looking up into his rather handsome face. His voice is warm as he puts his hand on my shoulder and says,
“You go get showered and changed. I’ll make you something hot to eat.”
Obediently I trip along to my bedroom, sensing him go in the opposite direction to the kitchen.
And I can’t fail to notice the slight scowl on Jen’s face as she watches us both leave her to sit alone in the lounge.

I like having him here, but I‘m not sure about Jen‘s motives and I am a little rattled that he‘s here so much lately. He‘s my new best friend, not hers. And what is she up to, anyway? She looks ridiculous in the vest and shorts combo on such a dreadful day and she’s an unnatural shade of orange thanks to her sunbed addition. She’s a typical addict - replacing one addiction for another! I return to the lounge, feeling 100% better dressed in my jeans and black wrap top, my hair feels sleek and smooth after a wash and blow dry. I’ve already decided that I’m going to call around and see Tam tonight. I’m not too sure what Jen is up to, but if I give her enough rope, I’m sure she’ll tie herself up in knots... Rob has made me a sizzling chicken stir fry and it’s gorgeous. Jen has a bowl of it too, which she’s staring down her nose at - you can virtually see her computing calorific / fat / GI content. But I have to say that for her credit and debit approach to trying to stay young, I feel I need to point out to her that the organic blue berries and soya milk are not negating the effects of the sunbeds and cigarettes. Her skin is beginning to look dire - wrinkled and dry and parched.
Rob will never go for her!

Ohmigod - what made me say that???

Chapter Forty Nine
Chapter Fifty One

Where was I????

OK - If anyone can figure WHERE I was in Second Life, then I would be grateful!

I had intended to be giving a talk at a bookshop, but when i put in co-ordinates I found myself inside a series of funky pods - one of which was an erotic art gallery! Not quite what I'd expected.


Talk about rub it in!! Here I am - desperately trying to stay single, and where do I find myself? In an erotic art gallery. Some of the images were a little cringe-worthy, but not ALL of them.

Frustrating or what!!!

Sorry about the confusion - I'm going to have to try and figure where I went wrong...

xx

I'm giving a talk in Second Life - Wednesday 9pm GMT

I've been away from Second Life for a while - it was the singles holiday in Gran Canaria that started it off, and then since I've been back it's all been a rollercoaster of craziness - what with Ade and Rob and now the new Sophie Dilemma situation AND the impending Richard & Judy appearance!

I have met with the fabulous (and Queen of SL) Lythe Witte many times and if you want to get to know about the escapism of SL, then join us tomorrow at 9pm GMT.

I think we should try and meet up at the SL Bookstore, Keswick (co-ordinates 139, 70,35) - we can move on from there later if we feel like it!

Given my current situation, and how I'm supposed to be meeting up with surprise dates for Sophie Dilemma over this Christmas season, I was hoping to find a Christmassy venue in SL - but haven't managed to. So if anybody knows of any great places where we can host a Christmas Party in SL - please let us know!!! Either as comments here, or by email to singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Please come along tomorrow - would be great to see you and I'll be answering questions about my experiences trying to stay single.. grrrr...

xx

Pulling Power #19

These guys are STRAIGHT to the point!

Not for the easily offended....




Contact Pulling Power at singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Chapter Forty Nine - A Hair Raising Point of View

I scurry out, brown paper bag clutched in my hand as I also balance a tray of 2 coffees and my handbag, and blast into reception, skidding and almost falling onto the wet tiles.
“Hey,” Ellie smiles, “mind the wet patch. The cleaner’s just been at it.”
“Ha, you don’t say! Here,” I rest down the coffees and fumble in the bag for her muffin, “I got you a soy chai and a skinny lemon.”
“Oh Soph,” she patted her non-existant tum, “I’m trying to lose a few pounds before Christmas.”
“You are? I should be! I’m off to L.A. in a couple of weeks for my Mum’s wedding.”
“That come around already? God, the year’s flown by hasn’t it?”
I clasp the hot cardboard mug and brown bag as I turn to go,
“You reckon? It’s felt like an eternity to me! What with this stupid staying single idea. And I’m not even near the end yet. Got about another 4 months to go after Christmas!”
“You’ve done really well though. Look at the newspaper and magazine and television coverage that you got. And you know what? It’s made lots of men and women question why they’re in unhappy relationships. You’ve become the Queen of the Singles!”
And I can’t help but think how strange it is that she says that, because right back at the beginning I’d coined myself with that title - and I’d meant it in a derogatory way! Which just goes to prove that everything is dependant upon point of view. Just like those excellent HSBC adverts - one person’s idea of ’information’ is another’s idea of ’invasion’, one idea of ‘perfect’ is another’s idea of ‘imperfect’.






But it's true - it is all about point of view and I’ve decided in this split second that yes, I am the Queen of the Singles and simply because I am happy being just me! I’m going to go straight to my desk and write up this week’s Relationship Rehab with a revived verve and positive point of view!


By the time I’ve stopped off in the toilets to give my hair a quick brush through (hmmm, quite a few loose strands stuck in my comb I noticed - must Google that when AJ‘s not looking over my shoulder), and grabbed a plate for my muffin in the kitchen, I sit at my desk and turn on my computer only to look up and notice that Delaney’s office door is closed. I don’t think anything of it until I catch a glimpse of a rather broad back and a black shirt that makes me look twice. My blood runs cold as I narrow my eyes and try to focus through the half opened blinds. My god! It’s Ade! In Delaney’s office! What the fuck?
I can’t concentrate on my muffin at all now and I’ve just burned my tongue on my still steaming soy chai latte as I’m gulping and slurping, afraid to take my eyes off of him in her office. As I listen to AJ rattling away on her keyboard at her desk behind me I hear Delaney’s laugh. Flirty and loud. Shit. How do they know each other? A million thoughts rush through my mind randomly. Did she know about the set up with Trevor Malone and their bet? Was she in on it? I’m watching him - his shiny black shoes and trousers and striped shirt. My stomach is flipping. His shoulders, defined and strong, his great cute arse with the perfect curve. His strong jaw line, those toned thighs, the tummy-flipping sexy laugh.... I’m embarrassed to admit to you that I’m feeling a light stirring somewhere below my desk! All I want to do is to burst in there and kiss him! I’m desperate to know what they’re saying? Is she flirting with him? Shit, what do I do when they come out? How about if I just flirtily concentrate on my screen and play with my hair as if I’m in deep thought and haven‘t even noticed that he‘s in there. I‘m going to practise the look. If I rest my elbow on the desk - hide the muffin in my top drawer for now - and I will just do this.... I‘ll twirl my hair through my fingers lightly and then slowly pull a few strands down over my shoulder... Yes, that‘s it. And then I‘ll tease it into little light flicks that can just dangle over my right bosom. That‘ll do. So I‘m practising now and playing with my hair just ready for their appearance. And I look at my hand and, oh my god! It‘s coming out! My bloody hair is coming out in my hands! I now have wisps of long hair entwined around my fingers and stray hairs now dusted all down the front and shoulder of my black polo neck jumper! This is not a good look!
Ohmigod they’re coming!
And here I am picking the hairs from my clothes!!!

*

“So,” (Delaney is definitely flirting), “I’ve had a chat here with Adrian and I think it’s a great idea. A perfect idea. We can kick off the Sophie Dilemma series with you and Adrian on a perfect Christmas date. We’ll run the series for a few weeks and see what kind of response we’ll get, but Adrian,” she’s blushing as she nods towards him(!), “is right. It would be the icing on the cake for the most popular babe from Woman To Woman to be the one to make the naughtiest guy from Geezer to change his ways.”
I’m desperately trying not to curl my lip at Adrian. I look sideways at him and he’s giving me a really sexy, cheeky grin and shrugging his shoulders as if to say, “hey, sounds like a good idea to me.”
So what can I say?
Apart from..
Yes.....

It comes out rather as a choked burp, rather than that positivity I’d mentioned only a while ago.

I’m sure Ade’s trying not to laugh.
Delaney’s delighted.
I’m grief-striken!


Chapter Forty Eight
Chapter Fifty

Chapter Forty Eight - Love Triangles Are SO Square!

I wish I could get this seasonal glow that everybody else seems to have right now, but it’s weird, knowing that I won’t actually be here for Christmas this year. Mum has changed venues for this wedding so many times that I’m still not 100% sure where it’s going to be. She started off by saying that it was in Los Angeles and over the course of the last six months it’s moved to a ranch in Texas, onto a boat somewhere off the Keys, a casino in Vegas and now we’re back to good old L.A once again. Wherever the wedding takes place it’s almost a dead cert that the weather will be better than English weather at Christmas. Forget the notion of thick snowflakes, we’re more likely to get rain and winds. It’s a little romantic, watching the red-cheeked shoppers bustling along Oxford Street, although I’m already sick of listening to all those damned Christmas songs that they drag out year after year. I feel so desperate for the shop assistants - they must be all Xmas’d-out by the time they lock up for 2 days at 5pm on 24th December. But I love London at Christmas time - the outdoor ice rinks, the Christmas tree at Trafalgar Square, the toy shops, the smell of hot chestnuts at every street corner. Makes me feel all tingly and childish and I love it. It would just be complete with that special guy to share it all with. Thankfully it won’t be an issue this year, as I’m jetting off to US with Jennifer in a couple of weeks time. Maybe it’ll make me enjoy next Christmas all the more? Maybe, by getting away from it all this year, I won’t feel so lonely at this ‘family’ time of year. Ironic, isn’t it!


*

Rob took a deep breath as he clicked the red button on his mobile to disconnect the call. His credit card was still in his hand as he went to the kitchen and poured himself a cold beer from the fridge. He’d taken the elk by the antlers now. He loved this time of year and knew, from the many late night chats with Sophie, that she did too. But was this going to be too much? Would she think he’d completely taken leave of his senses? It had started out with him wanting to ask her to go with him to see the tree going up in Trafalgar Square, and then he’d begun to stress over how to ask her. He didn’t want to sound like one of those corny chat up lines that she’d been receiving by the sackload. And so his imagination had started to work overtime and he’d really pulled all the stops out now. The truth for Rob was that he knew that he was in love with Sophie and he wanted her in his life for a long time. He’d never made any moves on her, but how he’d wanted to over the last few weeks. There’d been many an evening when he’d been laying on her sofa chatting to her as she’d been curled up in her armchair wearing her shorts and vest pyjama combo as she’d sat, completely free of make up and with her mussed up hair, and they’d talked for hours about their earliest memories, their favourite pet, how they felt about their parents or siblings and what their ultimate ambitions in life were. He had so wanted to sit up and lightly grasp her wrists and pull her across to him. He’d so wanted to lay her down beside him and cup her face and kiss her deep and slow on her pretty mouth. There’d been many nights when she’d called him after another horrendous date or a ‘situation’ with the paparazzi and he’d shot round to her place and had poured her some chilled pinot grigio and listened to her moan or cry or even shout about the stupid promise she’d made to stay single for a year. She’d looked fabulous some of these evenings - he’d particularly liked the black taffeta skirt and shiny black shoes that made her legs look overwhelmingly sexy. He’d been closely involved in her life for long enough now to have seen the ups and the downs of Sophie Regan, along with her quirks and her irritating habits - like relentlessly interrupting and talking in her sleep - to know that she was the woman that he wanted. He wanted her long term. And dare he even begin to think it, but for the first time in his life, he could see himself getting married at some stage far away in the future.

Lowering himself onto the kitchen chair slowly he drank from his pint glass, ignoring the frothy white moustache that the drink left over his top lip. He looked down at the brochure on the table and couldn’t quite believe that he’d just paid over £600 to hire the log cabin in Scotland for the long weekend. But he had. It was helped by the new contract that he’d just signed with a high-profile Tour Management and Personal Security company that were well reputed media favourites. They’d signed him exclusively to work with their fleet of prestige cars and it was guaranteed to be a nice and regular earner for him. Now all he had to do was to, somehow, persuade Sophie to go with him. He wanted to show her the whole cosy Christmas deal. It was bad enough that she was going away for the holiday season, but made it all a whole lot cheaper. The same log cabin over the Christmas weekend would have set him back over £2000. He wanted to snuggle up in front of the huge open fireplace and toast marshmallows and drink hot chocolate with her. He wanted the whole dream. He wanted her to go to her Mum’s wedding in America with him firmly planted in her mind and in her heart.

*

It’s a surprisingly bright morning for early December and I’m determined to get my head together in preparation for this wedding. Jen has promised me that she’ll stay with me until the wedding and then when we return to UK in early January, she’ll spend a couple of days getting her stuff together and book her flight back to Ireland. I’m rather miffed with the whole S.O.S call from her. She arrived looking great and has become rather a social butterfly since arriving here. I’m convinced she’s still partial to the odd ‘line’ most days a week, given her hyper personality coupled with the paranoia and moodiness, but I’m not her mother! She can do what she likes. I’m feeling so breezy this morning that I even feel brave enough to face Starbucks, brazen to the suggestion that Adrian might be in there. If there’s ever a morning I’m up for a Soy Chai Latte and Skinny Lemon Muffin, it’s today. And I’m even going to buy one for Ellie too. I’m still puzzling over Jen’s motives with Rob and as I stand in the short queue (no Ade, I checked!) I can’t shake off how I was shocked, the other day, to find Jen and Rob having a cosy heart-to-heart around my kitchen table. I felt a shocking twinge of jealousy and it was, well, shocking! I still can’t quite figure out whether it was jealousy because Rob was there for Jen (and I wanted him only to be there for me!), or jealousy that I think Jen is interested in him. I know that she only ever goes for men with money, but there’s no denying that Rob is charming and cute and rather sexy too.
God!
Did I just say that?
He is?
Now, I’m more confused than ever!
Oh no. And here’s Adrian. I now have to stand in this queue with him behind me. Which means that he can check me out and I can’t do the same to him.
Although I have noticed that he has a drop-dead sexy black shirt on today which really makes his shoulders look defined and his chest rather broad.
Hmmmm.
Rob?
Rob who.....

Chapter Forty Seven
Chapter Forty Nine

Chapter Forty Seven - Suddenly I See!

I’ve just realized that my best-friend (my long-term one, as opposed to my new one (i.e., Rob!)) is a serial girlfriend. When she was with Pete she displayed characteristics that made me suspect it, but after the conversation that we’ve just had on the phone I’ve decided that it’s a dead cert. The woman has drifted from Pete to Ade seamlessly. From what she’s saying it’s as if she hasn’t realized she’s with a different guy! OK, so she’s mentioned that Ade is far better endowed that Pete (I didn’t want to know that – for 2 reasons! One – I don’t even want to know about Pete’s wedding tackle and Two – the thoughts of her playing around with Ade make me green with envy!), and she’s commented on Pete being more emotionally mature than Ade – which is no surprise given that he’s about 15 years older! She’s talking to me as though she’s living a dream that she’s still with Pete and he’s left his wife. Listening to her mooning about moving in with Adrian and how he’s the only man that she wants to have sex with for the rest of her life is rather bizarre. They’ve only been together for a month. Talk about fast-tracking! I can just imagine Adrian cringing at all of this. And it’s obvious that she’s not telling me in a girlie-secret way - she’s quite open and honest about it all with Ade too. But maybe he isn’t cringing? Maybe he wants the long term deal?
Which is all rather hard to take on board.
Have you ever spoken to a friend and listened to her rant or coo over something, but you just know that they’ve got it all wrong? What do you do? Speak up and tell her and risk bursting her bubble, or simply nod and agree until the time is right for a cosy chat? It’s a taboo subject for me to discuss with her – the whole concept of ‘Adrian’. Then again, she didn’t hesitate to jump in there once she knew that I was well out of the way.
If I was with a new guy, ‘Adrian’, no! Just a new guy that I really liked then I’d want to be made to feel special – not even made to feel special, just to feel special naturally! I’d want some quality time for us to get to know each other – something more to build some special memories on rather than watching him on his laptop on a Saturday night or being complacent as he turns up in his shabby jogging bottoms night after night. There’s enough time for all that ten years down the line! I want to look forward to that excitement about meeting up, the flapping and fussing over how to make the effort to look dead sexy and to watch his face light up when he sees you. I want to see that lust in their eye, that wanting, greedy look as they look at you across the table. I want the frisson, the fun, the thrill of being in company or being in a sweaty, packed nightclub or pub and knowing that they just can’t wait to get you home and have you all to themselves. I’d be desperate for the excitement and turbulence – which would be the cause of hundreds of phone calls to my friends – as we’d ponder and over-analyse every move, every word as I’d try to dissect whether he’s as much into me as I’d be in to them….
And then it would find a calmer level as we’d move into that tranquil zone of the warm glow as we’d have the intrigue and interest that takes place over the following months as we’d have got all of that frantic sex down to a fine art and we’d begin to learn about who we are and about our lives and families.
Tamsin must be mad, fast-tracking through these potentially heady weeks. She’s Dr Who’ing by living in the future – but it’s a future that Ade isn’t ready to learn about. I’d estimate that she’s about 4 years ahead of herself and all she wants is for Ade to go to her place and to cook for him. She’s sloppy in her shorts and ‘homely’ t-shirts and vests and looks forward to snuggling up and watching DVD’s together. But you can’t do that every night!
Can you?
And I was seriously surprised at the aggravated tone in her voice when she told me that he’d refused her offer on Saturday night, to bring his laptop around to her place and for him to work on her new idea for his Geezer column, in front of the television. She’s trying to bury the Ade Gets Laid tag and is encouraging him to write a new one to replace it – Gimme The Pipe & Slippers! No, not really, but it might as well be. She wants him to approach his boss with a new column idea that embraces the notion that all a man really wants is Gordon Ramsey in the kitchen, Sienna Miller on his arm and Miss Whiplash in the bedroom!

Strange then, that she seems to have turned into Andy from Little Britain!

*

Ade sat at his desk, dreading the thoughts of the weekend. He used to love Fridays – a few beers at lunchtime with the lads and then a few more after work, followed by a curry somewhere unsavoury. He’d always made a point of cooking something really funky at some point over the weekend and often a mate or two would call over and they’d watch the footie together. During his Ade Gets Laid hey-day he’d be out on a Saturday night looking for his next conquest. A complete contrast to his life now! He’d have been more than happy to settle for something in between that lifestyle and this one. It had really gone from a Peter Stringfellow existence to a Jim Royle one. Tam was a nice girl. But a boring one. And where he’d initially thought that perhaps her coming onto him was a prelude to pave the way for Sophie, the trail hadn’t so much gone cold so much as frozen over entirely.
He had to say something to her, but he hated hurting people. It was obvious to him that he was simply a replacement for Pete and that she was space-hopping her way through this rebound.
He had to do it before Christmas.
It was a shit time to break up a relationship by any standards, so to have it out of the way before mid December was crucial.

*

It’s 16.39 on a Friday afternoon and I’m desperate to get out of here and go home. Jennifer has said that she’s working on late shift at Tanfastic – which is Fan-fucking-tastic! It means that she won’t be home till late. The shop closes at 10pm and then they’ll all go out in a little bevy of orange glow and with the scent of burning skin as they bundle into the nearest wine bar. I have an evening completely to myself. So why do I feel the urge to spend it with Rob? Am I being needy? That dreaded word! Maybe Rob has plans? I’ve been thinking lots this afternoon about the Adrian and Tam situation and it’s made me see that things aren’t as rosy as they seem. And that has made me wonder about lots of things. I suddenly have 20/20 vision and can see with immense clarity that I’ve been on a right downer for the last few weeks. I’ve been really selfish and it’s all been about ‘me’. I haven’t once really considered how things are for Ade. Maybe he was telling the truth when he relentlessly apologised for his lousy behaviour. Maybe Trevor Malone was a key player in setting up the hideous situation.
But it’s too late now. It would seem wrong for me to contact him and any comments I make to Tamsin suggesting that she cool off a little, would be seen as bitterness and envy.
So I’ll say nothing.
For now.

Chapter Forty Six
Chapter Forty Eight