Chapter Forty Three - Keeping The Faith

OK, so I’m struggling. It had all been such fun during the summer months. I’d swanned along to speed dating and Wine Not?, slightly nervous but carried along on the promise of a fun summer. I’d taken a glorious week in the intense singles heat in Gran Canaria and have had thousands of hits on my Woman To Woman website. But now things have become all rather grey and drab. I’ve won and lost Adrian to my best friend! And I an only be thrilled for them....(!) I’ve dated mega celebrity Paul Ashkuri only to find that I’d been made a fool out of, and have met and spoken to so many guys that I no longer really know WHAT I want! On top of this, Jennifer has arrived and is rapidly taking over my life - it’s like a strange osmosis, the way that she is slowly depleting my personality whilst gradually getting her life back on track. These November days are short and cold and I’m tired and bored of the rain. It seems that where I’m missing my summer wardrobe, feeling drab and boring in my winter clothes, somehow Jennifer is positively glowing! I know that her part time job in the sunbed job helps no end, but it’s the way that she’s embraced the whole autumn ‘look’ and looks fabulous in her tight jeans, knee high boots and huge chunky knits. If I ever wanted somebody to snuggle up to in these cold nights, it’s now. And I’m desperate for a special ‘friend’ to share my life with. In all honestly, if it wasn’t for Rob calling in and texting a few times a week, I don’t know what I’d do. Tam and Ade have been dating steadily for the last few weeks and it’s all rather painful. It’s a subject that Rob and I don’t discuss - and that ADDS to the discomfort of it all.
I’ve debated numerous times over the last few months whether staying ‘single’ means remaining celibate - would that one night stand with NO intention of a long term relationship qualify as staying single? I’ve also questioned whether I should be dating at all? But does one date mean I’m not single anymore? It’s a grey area and all rather confusing! It was an email that I received from ‘Christian Carter’ that got me thinking about how, ultimately, we all want to be with somebody. Nobody chooses to be lonely, and being ‘alone’ is entirely different from being lonely. So I get this email, ‘Finding Love Online’ and it made me think about the concept of Mr Right! I’m savvy enough to realise that there IS no Mr Right, and yet I’m hopelessly romantic enough too continue hoping that I’m wrong. So I’ve decided to go with the advice - I won’t be ordering the CD collection, but can see some sense in checking out where these ‘smart and successful’ men are. I’m going to dive right into my www.myspace.com account and see whether I can make some genuine ‘friends’....


Delaney wants me to check out more stuff for dating scene and wants me to check out more millionaire dating sites! I‘ve had a reassuring trickle of ‘interest‘ from the guys on www.sugardaddie.com but none of them are what I‘d be looking for. I‘m not sure if it‘s the money, but there‘s an air of arrogance - guys saying how NOT to waste their time if you‘re not fun-loving/attractive/slim/open minded, because they‘re REALLY fussy. And it‘s all led me to remind myself about WHY I wanted to stay single in the first place. It’s especially difficult when you find yourself falling for somebody. It’s tough when you have that ‘special someone’ in your life who is there and then suddenly isn’t and then is, once again. It slightly pulls the rug from beneath your feet and so I decided that this weeks relationship rehab is in loving memory of why I began this crazy project ...

Relationship Rehab - week 29

November sucks. Short days and long nights coupled with empty beds and cold sheets is NOT what I’d signed up for. So here are my reminders WHY I wanted to stay single for a year...
- When you’re single you can do WHAT you want WHEN you want.
- You don’t have to think before you speak and don’t have to spend 65% of time doing what someone else wants.
- You CHOOSE to be single, which means deciding NOT to stay in watching Lost and wading through cookery books.
- You’re amongst a huge chunk of the London community -
apparently there are nearly 2,500,000 singletons in London alone! So, surely, it can’t be that bad.
- You are free to go out with your friends and go wild whenever you want to - or THEY want you to!
- Your mind is free and primed to concentrate on your career.
- It’s liberating to find people attractive without feeling the need to take it any further. It’s nice to remember that, just because THEY like YOU, it doesn’t mean that you have to reciprocate it. Deciding to remain single means accepting their kind words and attention as flattery but remembering that you don’t need to dive in!

I’ve also become an expert at escaping Quasimodo who invariably corners me in any nightclub that I find myself in. My avoidance/escape tactics now include,
- pretending that my mobile is ringing/vibrating,
- pretending to fall asleep,
- rushing to the toilet, only to return to the bar via the ‘scenic’ route,
- dancing really weird so that he’s freaked out,
- starting to talk about what ‘our house’ will be like in the future, preferably with a dreamy-like look in my eyes,
- be sick and feign drunkenness - preferably on his shoes!

Yes - I’m shoe-horning myself into being convinced that being single for a year WAS the best decision. And I’ve only got about 5 months left to go..... My biggest hurdle will be Christmas, slap-bang in middle of those 5 months. I’m already cringing at the prospects of the season of coupledom, Doris Day crooning in the snow, kisses under the mistletoe and George Michael twinkling Last Christmas. I always wanted to stay in that log cabin with all those gorgeous and fun-loving people from that video......

I can see that my resolve needs to remain strong!

Sophie..xxx

*

I’m busy minding my own business at my desk when my fabulous assistant calls me over to look at some messages on-screen. On my www.myspace.com account, a John Pamenter has sent me a friend request and he’s looking rather mysterious, what with his silhouette photo and severe lack of ‘profile’. With a url name of ’let me love you one more time’ I can deduct that he’s either a mega George Benson fan - or an egoistical gigolo...

I’ve been at my desk since 7.15am - it’s tough living with Jen again after so long - we haven’t lived under the same roof since we left home in our late teens and it’s worse now than ever. She’s even more untidy and lazy than ever and I‘m not convinced that she‘s not still indulging in the odd line of coke now and again too. I found a light dusting of powder on the kitchen worktop but she was aggrieved when I mentioned it to her - insisting that it was icing sugar from the pastries that Rob had bought around last night. She annoys me, the way she is with Rob. She is overly flirty and it’s all rather embarrassing. Mind you, she’s generally showing an all round unhealthy interest in my legion of ‘admirers‘, although, as far as I’m concerned, she’s welcome to them!

She’s already asked me whether she can stay until Christmas, with the plan to travel to Mum’s LA wedding together and promising that she’ll head back for Dublin straight away on our return. I’m just not sure. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do and I can’t help but feeling a little down and miserable. Nothing is right at the moment, and she just doesn’t help. Things have to get better. Don’t they?


Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Four

Chapter Forty Two - The Vultures in Chicks Clothing

It was a slow-motion moment, as I stood with my mouth open as Tam told me about how she’d rang Adrian and asked him to go out for a drink (or something!) with her. I know that she’d seen the flash of irritation in my eyes as I’d stood and told her how pleased I was for her. She’d tried to grab my arm as I’d breezed past her and into the kitchen, but I’d swerved her grasp and flung open the fridge door, clutching at the chilled bottle of Soave and glugging straight from cool neck of the green glass. I can hear her shuffling and scratching her head at the doorway.
Keeping my back to the door, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and raise my voice,
“You might as well come in and say it. I know it’s killing you - wanting to apologise and wanting me to be pleased for you at the same time. I know you like him and I wish I could be happy for you. But I just can’t. You know how I feel about him and what an unscrupulous bastard he was to me. And his damned sidekick, Trevor Malone too! In all honesty I can’t even believe that you went behind my back like that. I mean, you’re my closest friend and...“
I’m cut short as Rob’s voice cuts in,
“Em, Sophie?“
I spin around to see him standing in the doorway, smiling awkwardly at me,
“Em, Soph. Your sister’s here.“ He whispers, an uncomfortable expression on his face. I frown and whisper at him,
“What’s wrong, Rob? Where is she?“
He shrugs and indicates toward my front door by flicking his right hand to his shoulder, “She’s at the front door. Bringing in her luggage.“
“Oh, OK.“ I put the half empty bottle of wine down on the worktop and then think twice about it. If Jen sees that there she’ll be drinking within minutes! As I open the fridge door again, the yellow light shines onto my face as I feel Rob’s warm hand in the small of my back.
“Sophie, when I say she’s bringing in her luggage, I really mean bringing in her luggage.“
I stand upright and frown at him again, pushing my hair back from my face as tendrils stick to my lips,
“What are you talking about Rob? What’s the problem?“
He tries to answer me but is drowned out by Jen’s shrill voice, shouting from the lounge,
“Hey, Sophie ya bitch? Your big sister’s here! Get the wine out of the fridge. I’ve only come from Ireland but feel like I’ve been travelling for the whole frigging day!“
I can tell that she’s already been drinking - probably since she arrived at Dublin airport in the early afternoon and Rob watches my shoulders sink. It’s then he holds me firmly and looks into my eyes,
“Sophie. She’s brought 3 enormous suitcases with her. How long is she staying, again?“
“Oh my god, you’re not serious?“
He smiles at me sympathetically and lifts my chin so that our mouths meet. Ready to lose myself in his kiss once again Jen appears at the kitchen doorway,
“Holy fuck tonight, Sophie! Thought you were meant to be staying single for a year?“
And as Rob and I grimace at her drunken words, she walks in and slaps Rob hard on the bum as she opens the fridge door,
“OK, so where’s the wine, then?“
Great.
And so this is what it’s going to be like with my sister staying. Ice breaker and ball breaker wrapped into one, is our Jennifer.
And by the way she’s giving Rob the eye, I can tell that I’m going to have to be extra firm with her.
For once in our lives.


*

AJ was hunched over her laptop as she sat, cross legged on her bed. She’d been stuck in that same position for hours, but was still glued to the newspaper archives and the genealogy sites that she’d subscribed to. She was determined to dig out the Ben Scott story. She’d hoped that Trevor Malone was going to do that, but he was obviously not up to it! It pissed her off that she had to do everything herself. The silence in her flat was becoming deafening and she wished that her mobile would ring - or even bleep once in a while. She found it slightly embarrassing - her severe lack of friends, but continued to hide behind her steely facade that she was a one-man-band and needed nobody to enrich her life. She’d been fixated in the same akimbo pose for hours and was surprised to see that it was approaching 3am. The small clock counter that timed her online usage flashed discreetly that she’d been connected for what was approaching 8 hours. Her shoulders were beginning to ache and her hips felt stiff from a perpetual cross-legged pose. But it was all going to be so worthwhile. She already had lots of what she needed, but was extremely excited and driven by the prospect of what she was going to do when Sophie appeared on her next prime time television slot. The Richard & Judy show was a massive cult following for Channel 4 and AJ have every intention of making as much a monkey out of Sophie as possible. She wanted to humiliate her as publicly and as harshly as was possible, and she’d heard Delaney harking on about the Richard & Judy show once again, so knew that it wouldn’t be too long to wait.

It was all going to be so worthwhile.....

Chapter Forty One
Chapter Forty Three

Chapter Forty One - Cake & Eat It Syndrome

It’s been 3 days since Rob kissed me - as snotty and slippery as I was! And he’s still here... Yes, he hasn’t gone home yet and I’m in heaven. As for what lies beneath the overalls? Trust me - you wouldn’t be disappointed. The sexual chemistry between us is overwhelming - just listening to him telling me what he’s going to do with me causes a pulse to beat somewhere in my head, which makes me feel dizzy. But there’s more to it than simply sex. We’ve sat up for hours talking and we’ve had to drag ourselves out to work every morning. It’s as if we’ve known each other forever and I can honestly say that I’m struggling to remember what life was like before I ‘knew’ Rob. He said he’s liked me for ages and was gutted when I revealed my public vow to stay single. Apparently Tamsin has been telling him about the insurgence of bouquets that arrive at work every week and how I’m not on first name terms with the porters at the hospitals simply through donating my flowers there. Rob said that he’d made a decision to come and reveal his feelings for me, for fear that some ‘hunk’ would come and sweep me off my feet. My arms are polka dot blue from where I’m still continually pinching myself to believe this and there’s only one blot on the horizon. Jennifer is due to arrive later today, typically in time to come and burst my bubble of romance. Tam’s calling in shortly too. She knows about Rob and I already. We’d tried to keep it quiet for a while - so we could have it just for ‘us’, but she’d known something was up when she called around yesterday after work and picked up on the body language between her brother and me. She’d squealed, delighted that her brother and her best friend were getting together and she’d hugged us both and said,
“It’s great! My two favourite people, together at last.”
But I’d been a little unsure about things when Rob had shrugged and said,
“Don’t rush things Tam.” There was something about the tone of his voice that made me feel weird.
Tamsin had news. It was obvious, the way she was shuffling excitedly from foot to foot and scratching her head (a dead giveaway that Tam had something to say...)
“There’s something I’ve got to tell you,” she finally spouted when Rob had gone into the kitchen to open a bottle of red.
“OK, tell me then,” I’d smiled, an air of serenity and contentment about me, which only came from a marathon sex session with somebody who is bonkers about you. I’d slid off my flip flops and was tucking my feet under the cushion on the sofa when she’d said,
“I’ve finished with Pete.”
“Well thank goodness for that! At last! Married men are a complete waste of time on the dating stakes, Tam. All you’re doing by dating them is stroking their egos and belittling yourself.”
“OK!” she’d rolled her eyes, “no lecture, please! I know I’m naive, Soph, but I’d really believed him when he said that he wasn’t sleeping with his wife anymore. But her pregnancy bombshell soon shed a harsh light of reality on that! And once that trust had gone, nothing would bring it back.”
“Trust?” I knew I was raising my voice, but simply couldn’t help myself, “How could you ever have trusted a man who had so few morals he was continually lying to his family?”
“OK, OK. It’s over now, anyway. But I’ve met someone else.”
“What? Already?”
I noticed her blush and fidget in the leather armchair as she scratched at the side of her head ferociously. “Yeah, well, sort of. I already knew him, so technically, haven’t just ‘met’ him.”
“Really?” I sit upright and hug my knees, intrigued at this new man. I’m a sucker for a bit of romance and delighted that Tamsin has made a move away from Pete, finally! Whoever he is, it’ll be an improvement on Pete.
“Go on, then,” I urged her, “tell me. Do I know him?”
“Yeah....”
“I do? Excellent! Who is he?”
“Well,” she was shifting in her seat and playing with her fingers as she replied, “I met him with you. You see Sophie, I decided to be positive. I was all empowered after telling Pete it was over. I’d really wanted to just text it to him, but decided that I’d face up to it. That texting is lousy, isn’t it? Anyway, em, I knew him before this. So I wanted to make a move on someone who’d be good for me. And I think this guy will be. But Sophie. I don’t think you’re going to be too pleased with me.”
I stood up at this point, feeling slightly on edge at her long speeches and the way she was dancing around telling me. My fears and anxieties were confirmed when she blushed and couldn’t help herself from grinning as I watched her struggle to keep the guilt from her eyes as she said,
“Ade Ford. I rang him at Geezer this afternoon and asked him out.”

*

Adrian didn’t feel great about himself and it wasn’t improving. It was becoming increasingly difficult to look at himself in the mirror lately - he’d been despising himself anyway about the shallow Ade Gets Laid column, which then escalated after he’d conned Sophie. He’d came to the conclusion last night that he was going to leave her alone now. His weeks of apologies were remaining to be unacknowledged and he’d listened when Trevor had suggested, in a mocking, laughing way, that Ade was making it worse by hassling her. He’d been completely shocked but flattered this afternoon when Sophie’s friend Tamsin had called him at work and had asked him to go out with her for a few drinks. He had to admit that he was certain that there was more to this than met the eye, and suspected that it was possible that this was a move instigated by the strong-willed and stubborn Sophie. But Ade would do anything to get closer to Sophie again, and if that meant playing along with Tamsin’s little game - then he’d do it.
Again and again and again.

*

OK, this is humiliating. I shouldn’t be aggravated. But I am! I’ve spent the last 3 days with Rob and he’s been seeing his way to slowly bonking any memory of Adrian Ford from my body and then Tam goes and does something like this! It’s too much to bear and I wish that she could have orchestrated something to help me get Ade back on track again, but no, this is all about her! I know that he kept apologising, but I can’t face up to seeing him again. I know too, that I should be pleased for Tamsin, but I can’t be. If I couldn’t have him, then I certainly didn’t want him dating my best friend. I know that Rob caught a glimpse of my broken expression just as Tamsin told me who her new man was. Rob was just coasting round the corner as he came from the kitchen with our wine glasses and I know he clocked my change of expression - poor devil. His kisses and love making are so special and tender and I have to admit he’s completely fabulous in the sack. I should be delighted but Tamsin’s news has shattered it all.

Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty Two

Pulling Power #16

The cocky ones have raised their heads again.

A little bit of arrogance can go a looooong way though.

Would they work on YOU?




Send your chat up and dating stories to singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Chapter Forty - A Woman Scorned

I’m on the phone to Jennifer and I’m shocked at what she’s telling me. Don’t get me wrong - I’m a woman of the world, I know what goes on, but my own sister!! She sounds dreadful, whimpering and broken. Nothing like the feisty bossy older sister that I know and, kind of, love.
“Ah jesus, Soph, I’m in a mess. The bottom line? I can’t get away from the marching powder, Soph. It’s taking at least 3 lines just to get me out of bed in the mornings. My life is a complete sham. A lie. I’m doing all the wrong things with all the wrong men and telling my secrets and lies to women who only pretend to be my friends. I’m a mess. Help me Sophie.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, aware that Delaney is waiting for me in her office and I know that I’m about to say something that I’ll regret. But... She is my sister - as materialistic and shallow as that is...
“Jen. Come and stay with me for a while. Get away from Dublin and all that scene. But on one condition, Jennifer. No drugs. You come here? You leave all that behind you. Deal?”
Her voice is thick with emotion as she whispers,
“Deal. Sophie?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”

*

Jennifer spent about 5 minutes feeling relieved that Sophie had rushed to her rescue, and then spent the next hour whooping and squealing around her bedroom, flinging her designer clothes into her Louis Vuitton suitcase between dusting out a few shabby lines of white powder for herself. The Dublin social scene had been getting her down for a while now and the pretence of keeping up her appearances was a burden on her shoulders. She’d slept with too many husbands and inappropriate men over the last few weeks and she was desperate for an excuse to get away from it all. She was ecstatic at the thoughts of telling her ‘friends’ that she’s going to stay with her ‘celebrity’ sister for a few weeks in London!
“Yeah!” she practised her pouted, blase expression in the mirror in preparation, “she’s the Sophie Regan. Yeah, the one who promised to stay single for a year and is now flooded with the most gorgeous eligible bachelors. I mean,” she smirked at her reflection, “it’d be rude not to go and help her out, wouldn’t it?”

*

I had a row with AJ today and it’s shaken me right up. I knew she was a weasely bitch, but had no idea of the true extent of her hatred for me! I gave as good as I got, but I have to admit, from the comfort of my sofa I can reflect on how she really took my breath away. And all I can think of doing is calling Rob. Not even Tamsin? But Rob! How ridiculous! Why am I thinking about him so much lately? He’s completely inappropriate for me, lives in his overalls, is always dirty and unshaven and doesn’t have time for a social life! I’ve been introduced and chased by some of the most fanciable males to walk the earth and I’m thinking about Rob?
Anyway, AJ. You won’t believe it when I tell you. She’s poison. I wish she was really short - then I could call her the poisoned dwarf, but even that won’t work out considering she’s about five-nine. She’s a tall tower of nastiness!
I went into the kitchen to grab a mug of green tea before going in to see Delaney and walked straight into her and Victoria Harris whispering by the water cooler. It was so obvious that they’d been discussing me. The air was frozen with their sniping words that hung like daggers above me as I grabbed my mug from the dishwasher. I was certain I’d heard her say ‘Ben Scott’s number’ as I’d walked in and I couldn’t help but ask her.
“What did you just say?” I’d asked, as nicely as I could and with a little friendly smile. I knew I was right when AJ blushed like a beetroot and stammered,
“Em, I was talking about Den’s new plumber.”
“Ha ha!” I’d boomed, “bullshit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” AJ had snapped, a dangerous glint in her eye.
“Nothing.” I’d shrugged, ready to leave the kitchen. But I hadn’t been prepared for what was to follow.
“OK!” AJ spat, raising her voice, “I’ll tell you what I was talking about. I’ll tell you the bloody truth!” She walked toward me aggressively, swinging her arms and baring her teeth. I couldn’t help but notice that she went a little boss eyed and for a split second I was desperate to laugh, she looked a little like something I’d seen on Dr Who at the weekend. Anyway, she continued to rant, Victoria Harris smirking in the background.
“I’m gonna push your stupid, conceited arse out of here. Ever since you arrived you’ve been swanning around like you own the fucking place! I’m gonna show you for what you really are. A fake, pretentious publicity seeker who would do anything to get in the headlines. Who the fuck did you think you were stuck on the pages of Geezer magazine? You and your pathetic fat arse, airbrushed to make yourself look like somebody you’re SO not! And you know what? The Geezer guys think you’re fucking prize! Literally! You’re a prize arse, and a prize embarrassment, but most of all Sophie Regan - you were their fucking prize! Oh, you didn’t know about the bet between Malone and Ford? Woops, deary me, I’ve let it slip! Just be ready for it Sophie - cos I’m gonna unleash all of your shit and knock you off that ridiculous perch you’ve tried to build for yourself. You, Sophie-freaking-Regan, will be well and truly embarrassed! So be ready for it!”

And I was so stunned that I brushed past her and let the kitchen door swing closed behind me. I have to admit that I wondered what the hell she was talking about.
Am I a publicity seeker?
And it’s got me thinking - about how everyone else sees me too?
And the bet?
I knew that Adrian and Trevor were playing me off between them, but as a bet! My confidence and self esteem are shattered and I feel about ten stone heavier than I am as I sob uncontrollably into my wet hands.
I only ever wanted to stay single to help get my life back on track and look what I’ve done.
Made a complete fool of myself for the world to see.
*
Rob ponders on the step outside Sophie’s front door, putting one foot up on the step and then bringing it back down to the path again. He glances to see whether there are any paparazzi tonight and he’s thankful to find it’s quiet. He slouches, hunching his shoulders with indecision. Mumbling to himself, he checks his watch. It’s still only early-ish. 9.35pm isn’t late by his standards, he’d only finished work an hour earlier and had seen through his plan to go home for a shower and clean up before making tracks to Sophie’s. And now he’s there, he’s nervous.
“C’mon Rob,” he wills himself as he steps up to the front door and rings the bell.
“It’s only Sophie.”
*
My sobs are so loud and guttural that for a split second I think I can hear the doorbell. Then I realise that it’s the sounds of me moaning and crying and the blood coursing around my head. It’s rather liberating, being able to cry from the bottom of your heart. I know I’m making animalistic noises, like the actresses on television when their husband/child/parent has been savagely killed, and it’s a little scary to hear what I’m capable of. So for another split second I stop. The silence rushes around me as I feel myself well up with more raw emotions. I’m now crying for everything that ever happened to me. I’m crying for losing my mother to a fake life in L.A, I’m crying for my coke-head sister who’s coming to stay, I’m crying for all the men that ever told me “it’s not you, it’s me,” when it quite clearly was me. I’m crying for losing Ben Scott, and Danny-the-chav. I’m crying for waiting to lose my virginity until I was 19 when I so might has well have been screwing around before then. It’s not as if it actually got me anywhere - waiting. I’m still now in my early thirties and positively bloody lonely!!!!
Hang on. There’s that buzz again.
My god.
It is the doorbell.
Fuck!
And look at me! My face is smeared with tears and snot and my eyes are like pickled onions in swollen pink sockets.
The digital clock on the DVD player is flashing 21.39 so who could it be this time of night?
What if it’s the paps? They’d be delighted with a picture of me looking like this. Ha! That’d give AJ something to gripe about - what with her saying that I love myself and all that!
I turn all Nick-Nolte-in-Cape-Fear, as I sidestep toward the window and sneakily tug at the curtain to see who’s at the front door.
A slice of light shines down Rob’s left side and he turns to face me immediately.
Tam.
It must be Tam.
Something’s happened to her.
And so, forgetting all about my slippery face, I rush to the front door and fling it open.
Before I can catch my breath his mouth is on mine, his tongue gently probing between my lips as he nibbles and bites my mouth. Holding my head in his hands I fight for my breath as he slowly entwines his fingers through my hair, close to my scalp at the back of my head and he groans deep and low as I feel the full strength of his emotions in that one, long kiss.

Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty One

Pulling Power #15

The Cool Hand Lukes?

Or just the low-down dirty bums...





Pulling Power are looking for YOUR dating experiences, or chat up, dumper/dumpee stories.

Names can be changed to protect the not-so-innocent!!

Send them into singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk

Don't be shy..

Chapter Thirty Nine - A Whole New World Online

I’m ashamed to say that I’m living two lives. There’s my ‘real’ life - which is already changing at a faster rate than Paris Hilton’s jail sentence, and then there’s my ‘online’ life. I hadn’t realised how a few mouse clicks and an innocuous blank screen really is the window to a ‘whole new world’ - at the risk of sounding like Katie & Peter! I’ve been blown away by the mass of messages sent to my Staying Single website and am in awe at the huge amount of social networking sites that are out there. I’ve started up MySpace.com and Bebo.com accounts too - at Delaney’s recommendation - and if it wasn’t for Jacqui, my new assistant, then I’d never have the time or inclination to answer these propositions and character assassinations. I mean, what do you say to this:


To: singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk
From: nibbler123@aol.com
Subject: You won‘t be single for long...

Babe, you’re totally gorgeousssss. My face is your armchair - come and sit on it.
'Nibbler' xx

or this one

To: singlesophieregan@yahoo.co.uk
From: lawrence55@btinternet.co.uk
Subject: No messing - marry me!

I know you will have had hundreds of emails from freaks and perverts promising you eternal happiness or the biggest orgasm, but take it from me, I am your Mr Right. I have my own businesses and earn way over £250,000 a year. I will give you the perfect life. You are the perfect woman for me - brains and beauty, humour and independence - I want you. Be mine. You won’t be sorry. I have 2 tickets for a weekend in Venice and one of them has your name on it. Come with me. You’ll see I’m genuine and a great catch too.
Worth a try.
Life is short, but life is long too.
Think about it.
Larry.xxx


Sounds kind of tempting, but also kind of freaky. If he’s such a great catch what the hell is he doing sending ME emails!

It’s late on a Sunday evening and I can feel the energy draining from me as I lay on my sofa and try to relax. It’s so hot and my lights are out and windows wide open. The breeze is wafting in over my flip flopped feet and my mind is reeling with what a crazy few weeks it’s been. I know I’m looking better than I have done for years and yet it all seems superficial. When I think back to my initial horror at being photographed by the paparazzi and how I’d clung to Rob’s arm at the sheer prospect of leaving the house, it makes me giggle. I’m now so St Tropez’d and waxed and groomed that I’m positively disappointed if there’s no photographers lurking behind the begonias! In my quieter moments, when I’m not attending celebrity parties or receiving bouquets of flowers or writing guest features for national newspapers, I actually look back and realise how I was limiting myself in my quest to find a man. I probably should have gone to a life coach really, rather than make such a huge promise to stay single for a year. But it’s a little late now. I’m still only about halfway through! I can see that I was choosing to date inappropriate guys - how I was almost hiding behind their faults and foibles, ready to use them as an excuse for ending the relationship. Or even how I’d deliberately date men who were so obviously a bad match that it would be inevitable that they’d dump me. I was clingy and needy and so obviously desperate - it’s no wonder they ran kicking and screaming! I’m far more empowered now, but still struggling with this dilemma. I’ve been approached by some seriously credible and eligible bachelors. I have to admit that I’ve even dated a couple of them, and will divulge one step further and admit that I’ve had a few gorgeous tongue-lingering kisses with them too. The trouble with kissing is, if you do it with someone who knows how to do it well, it’s all rather, well, addictive. But I’m not sure what I want from life now. I’m enjoying my independence but find myself longing for someone to share it all with. I look forward to seeing Rob whenever he calls over - which isn’t very much - or to talking to him on the phone. He calls every now and again to check that I’m ok and haven’t been abducted by any strange dates. I normally text him before I meet somebody new and I give him their name and email address, where they work (or at least where they told me they work) and their mobile number... Just in case I’m found in the bushes anywhere. He laughs at me now and calls my texts his Bush Tucker Trials - on the assumption that if anything goes wrong he’s on a mission to find me!
It does worry me though. I’m dating some great guys but know that I’d never have met them if it wasn’t for my ‘promise’, which leads me to question their motives. The Paul Ashkuri incident and then the Adrian Ford thing has left a bad taste in my mouth and I’m less trusting than ever now. It pains me to even say Adrian’s name. My stomach lurches with a longing every time my mobile bleeps with yet another text along the lines of:

From: Adrian Ford
Good night baby, won’t sleep
properly til I no u’ve 4givn me.
Try get sum rest n pls meet me this
wk. U dn’t no how sorry I am.
I blew it. Regret it every day. xx

He’d started as my little fantasy - my very own, real life office romance but he’d mutated into a Jekyll & Hyde.

But should I forgive him?

In trying to stay single I’d hoped that the days had gone when I got bored and dumped a guy, or they’d messed me about and dumped me for some pathetic reason. But maybe those days will never be gone. I’m tormented now.. It doesn’t help that I had a dream the other night that’s still haunting me. My Mother and Jennifer were standing before me, shaking their hands and wagging their fingers and telling me how I am shrugging off the best thing that ever happened to me.
And that I am emotionally constipated...
That’s horrific.
Am I?

*

Ben Scott stares at the bright screen on his laptop as he sits on his rooftop terrace drinking neat vodka from the bottle. He’d been logging onto Sophie Regan’s website for the last couple of weeks and had just signed in to Bebo.com as JohnPamenter and had found singlesophieregan on there too. He’d checked out how Oonagh had been her first friend online, and how she had over 200 friends. It seemed her promise to remain single was a popular one and it bothered him that her celebrity status was rising. He found an image of a handsome guy on Flickr and uploaded it to his new bebo account, ready to send a new friend request to singlesophieregan. She’d never guess that he was going to be her new stalker...

*

Tamsin was bored with it all. Pete was making her feel worse rather than better and ever since the thing with his wife, she couldn’t trust him, despite trying desperately hard to. She’d spent the entire evening online and had come across a hilarious and thought-provoking site about working in a call centre. It was blatantly honest, but there was one particular story on there that made her think twice about dating a married guy. It’s called Monday Night and raised the ominous issue of step children. The call centre guys had been talking about being a step parent and they‘d joked about ****ing the parent. It unnerved Tam - that she was a young woman on the brink of stepping into a ready made life. It suddenly dawned on her that she was selling herself short. Sophie was meeting some fabulous guys and she was settling for somebody elses man.
Things had to change.
She needed to talk to Sophie...

Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Forty