Free Life Swap by Jane Green Page B

paid more than the Mail , but also knowing that half the time the Mail never actually printed the story, and Deborah wanted her byline in print more than she wanted the money.
    ‘So what was he like?’ Vicky asked. ‘I have to tell you I’m deeply jealous. I really do think he’s gorgeous.’
    ‘The funny thing is I didn’t think he was gorgeous before I met him, but he does that thing where he completely focuses on you and makes you feel like the only person in the room, and he kind of nods earnestly at everything you say, and I have to be honest, I do understand why all these women fall head over heels. He’s also kind of flirty which is always nice. If I wasn’t happily married…’
    Vicky sighed. ‘Oh God. Stop. Be still, my beating heart.’
    ‘Well he does say in the interview he’s ready to settle down.’
    ‘Okay, now you got me. Send it over now and I’ll have a look. Maybe we can set up a photo shoot to go with the piece and I’ll go along to style it. Christ, I’ve got to be able to meet him somewhere, I’m Features Director of Poise! , for heaven’s sake, I meet celebrities all day every day.’
    ‘And I thought you were jaded by now?’
    ‘Oh I am, I am. Just not when it comes to Jamie Donnelly.’
    *
    But what had really affected Vicky, turned her minor silly crush into a series of full-on fantasies, had been the interview itself. Jamie had said that despite his reputation for being a womanizer, what he really wanted was to settle down. He dreamt, he said, of a house in the country, with children and big dogs everywhere, of finding the one woman who would make him happy for the rest of his life.
    So Vicky decided she would be that woman. He was, after all, the same age as her, and even if he did tend to be photographed with young bimbettes, that didn’t necessarily sound like what he wanted. No, surely what he really wanted, really needed, was a thirty-five-year-old successful, intelligent features director of a magazine; someone who wasn’t all that great at cooking but who would be willing to learn; someone who shared his dreams, who would bring him cups of tea while he sat in his office off the kitchen writing wonderful comedy scripts.
    And thus began a series of fantasies: Vicky and Jamie (even the pairing of their names sounding perfect), their children Lola and Milo, their deerhounds Fitzroy and McHairy, their friends, their profiles in Hello! with photographs of the happy couple in their cosy country home.
    Meanwhile, Vicky hadn’t ever met him, hadn’t even come close to meeting him, and her fantasies of a perfect happy ever after with Jamie Donnelly had slowly faded to fantasies of a perfect happy ever after with a tall, faceless stranger.
    And now here he was, a guest on the radio show that she wasn’t even supposed to have been on. Could this, she thinks, as she tries to swallow her nerves, finally be fate working in her favour at long last?
    Vicky is ushered into the studio during a song. Lisa smiles and waves from her position on the other side of the console, and Jamie Donnelly – Jamie Donnelly! – leans over and shakes her hand.
    And Vicky thinks she is going to be sick.
    Thankfully she gathers herself enough to be ready when the song finishes and Lisa gaily announces, ‘My next guest’s dream night of passionate sex lasts roughly eight minutes, and she says that most married women agree with her. Vicky Townsley, welcome to the Lisa Diamond Show .’
    Vicky’s mouth drops open as a deep flush covers her cheeks. It has just been announced on national radio that she enjoys sex for eight minutes, which is a complete lie, there has been no mention of the fact that this was work, that she’s from Poise! , and meanwhile Jamie Donnelly is sitting next to her watching her mortification and is cracking up laughing.
    ‘So, Vicky, tell us why speed sex is such a fantastic thing, and what the rest of us who are spending a good hour on foreplay are missing out on.’
    Jesus.