Free Confessions of a Serial Dater by Michelle Cunnah Page A

right now and I’m sworn to secrecy.”
    I’m intrigued. Obviously a married man, then.
    “Married, is he?” I say before I can stop myself, because although I would never knowingly sleep with a married man, Elaine is not so scrupulous.
    “Naughty Rosie,” Elaine purrs down the phone at me. “Let’s just say that we have his public image to think about, but trust me, as soon as the time is right, I’ll tell you all about it.”
    Is it just my imagination, or does that sound like a threat?
    “You simply must come to the party at Mummy and Daddy’s next Thursday,” she stresses. Which is odd, because Ialways go to the family Christmas party. Under sufferance, but I do have an arsenal of family I actually like who will also be in attendance. And Jonathan, of course.
    “I can hardly wait,” I say carefully as I wait for the real reason for her call.
    “It seems like so long since we last had a chance to chat,” she says, hiking up the charm. “And you must bring your wonderful boyfriend with you,” she adds, and my suspicious nature immediately jumps to the conclusion that she means to try to steal him from me. Why else would she bother?
    “I’ll certainly try,” I say, as Elaine, Harry and the Blow-Job Episode spring immediately back to mind. I wonder if there’s a way I can uninvite Jonathan, because he’s already got it booked in his diary. Maybe I can pretend the party’s been called off due to—
    What am I doing? The one and only time she met Jonathan at Uncle Bill’s sixtieth birthday party back in August, Elaine barely looked at him, because she was dating some rich, handsome investment banker. And besides, Jonathan is a complete sweetie and would never do that to me. It’s one of the reasons I’m so fond of him.
    But I wouldn’t trust Elaine with the Pope…even if she is pregnant.
    “And you must tell Granny Elsie it wouldn’t be the same without her,” Elaine trills, which is plain weird. Elaine can’t stand Granny Elsie.
    “Er, yes, she’s very excited about it,” I say, because she is. More about the lavish spread Auntie Pat always puts on, I think.
    “And your lovely friends Carmen and Jess—and Charlie, of course.” This is getting weirder by the second, because I know for a fact that Elaine can’t stand my friends, either. “I’m just so happy,” Elaine squeaks again. “I want to put my arms around the whole world and hug it.”
    I wonder, as I try to wind down the conversation and get rid of her, if pregnancy has wreaked this miraculous personality change on Elaine?
    It is the season of goodwill, after all.
     
    “For indoor or outdoor use only,” the packaging on the Christmas lights wisely instructs me, as I open the box and unravel the long string. As opposed to say, what, exactly? Underwater or in space?
    My gorgeous Douglas fir’s been in the back garden all week, just waiting for me to bring it indoors and decorate it, so I thought I might as well get it out of the way. It’s just not the same at Christmas without the smell of pine, is it?
    As I place the final bauble on a branch, I take a step back and admire my handiwork. This year, I’ve decided that red and silver will be my tree theme, because they go so well with green, and are very Christmassy, too. I need all the Christmas cheer I can muster.
    And now I’m going to watch a movie—something with blood and guts in it—something that doesn’t include cute doctors or beautiful heroines who always get their man.
    Jonathan broke up with me earlier.
    After hanging up on Elaine, I checked my home phone messages, because time was getting on and I thought it was odd that I hadn’t heard from Jonathan, so imagine my relief when I heard his dulcet tones speaking to me via voice mail. This is what he actually said.
    “Er, hi, Rosie. It’s me. Jonathan. Er, it seems Sidney’s toe wasn’t broken after all, hahaha, just a bit, you know, bruised. Just thought you’d like to know.”
    That’s sweet, I think