Free A Surrey State of Affairs by Ceri Radford Page A

can’t help but feel that it is less beneficial to the mind, and herbaceous borders.
    While she went to make coffee, I was left to study her living room. It was vast, cream, and pristine, with a peculiar sort of remote-control fire, chocolate-brown leather sofas that made my hands feel clammy, ethnic vases filled with dead twigs, and a giant painting of oblongs doing battle with triangles, which I took to be modern art. When she got back, she handed me my coffee in a Starbucks mug and asked how I was doing. I decided not to beat about the bush.
    “Tanya,” I said. “I found out that Jeffrey has been eyeing up other women on Facebook. What does it mean? What should I do? Does it matter?”
    She looked at me and laughed. According to her, Jeffrey’s transgression is trivial. She explained that, as a stockbroker, Mark spends half his leisure time “with his face between a lap dancer’s * * * s,” and that she wasn’t troubled in the slightest. Such was her insouciance that the two of them would go through her fashion magazines together, giving the girls marks out of ten for their faces and figures.
    “He can look where he likes, but at the end of the day, I’m the one with the wedding ring,” she said, wiggling her elegant fingers. “And besides, he knows that if he does actually cheat, I get the house, I get the car, and I’ll chop his bollocks off with a pair of nail scissors.”
    I didn’t quite know what to say. I have never directly threatened Jeffrey’s genitalia, but I rather hope that the sentiment was implicit.
    In any case, I came away feeling much more cheerful, and at dinner I was emboldened enough to ask Jeffrey how he was enjoying Facebook. He started sawing his steak vigorously and saidthat he’d closed down his account because he kept getting friend requests from Nigerian spammers.
       TUESDAY, MARCH 4
    I have been grappling with a dilemma. After several days of pondering the wording, and one or two abortive efforts, I had filled in Rupert’s profile for Kindred Spirits. I had persuaded myself that the ends (a wedding, grandchildren) justified the means (impersonation, deceit). And yet, hand hovering above the mouse, ready to click SUBMIT , some small inner voice—perhaps representing God, or my inner conscience, it can be hard to distinguish between the two—persuaded me to stop. I wondered if a different approach wasn’t called for, one less likely to rub him the wrong way and result in him ignoring my text messages. And so, having thoroughly browsed the site, I decided to whittle down a short list of eligible girls to tempt him with before presenting him with a ready-written profile and asking for his permission to proceed. So far I like the sound of the following three:
    Name:
Flossie
    Age:
24
    Height:
5 feet 5 inches
    Employment:
PR/marketing
    About her:
I’m a positive, happy girl whose fun to be around, friends tell me I’m spontaneous and sociable, I like Strictly Come Dancing and take ballroom classes, sure you’d give my slinkey moves a 10!
    Looking for:
a nice smiley man to chillax with, maybe a serious relationship, maybe marriage and babies, who knows?!
    (Notes: Nice but dim. Probably pliable. Unlikely to have acareer significant enough to impede producing grandchildren. Good height. Query: what does chillax mean?)
    Name:
Karen
    Age:
32
    Height:
5 feet 6 inches
    Employment:
Arts administrator
    About her:
I enjoy the simple things in life: a home-cooked meal, a walk in the park, a good book. I’m shy but if you take the time to get to know me, you won’t be disappointed.
    Looking for:
I’ve had my heart broken before so I’m looking for a kind, honest man who won’t dump me for a bimbo with a boob job.
    (Notes: She is 32 and sounds desperate. Would marry quickly. Cheap to maintain.)
    Name:
Jackie
    Age:
26
    Height:
5 feet 2 inches
    Employment:
Stable hand
    About her:
Straightforward country gal. Love horses, dogs, country pubs, proper puddings.
    Looking for:
A rustic lad