that. However, I don’t think it’s fair that it’s me who has to say to you that I want a divorce. After all, I clearly don’t want a divorce in that I never wanted our marriage to come to an end. The only reason I want a divorce is because of what you did and I wouldn’t want a divorce if you hadn’t done it, therefore in a real sense it’s you that wants a divorce. Having said that, I suppose I do want a divorce. But not right now. I just don’t think I could face it at the moment.
I can’t believe it’s come to this, Sam. How could you have been so stupid?
Yours, etc., etc. Lucy.
She actually wrote “etc., etc.”. I don’t think I’ll open this document again.
Dear Sam
Four more months have passed and once again I find that I feel the need to collect my thoughts.
Next week is the premiere of Inconceivable. Everyone is very excited about the film and the opening is to be rather a grand affair. We’re promised television cameras and the presence of celebrities. The film is already being spoken of as the new British movie. I must say, there seems to be a the new British movie about once a week these days. I don’t want to be cynical about my own film, but the phoenix of British cinema has risen from the ashes so often it must be getting quite dizzy.
Lucy is going to attend the premiere.
I didn’t think that she would, but the publicist has just confirmed that she’s coming, and will of course be on the arm of Carl Phipps. The publicist assures me that she expects them to be very much the golden couple of the night and to attract a lot of press. Along with Nimnh and Ewan Proclaimer, that is. Ewan has left his wife Morag for Nimnh. This sort of thing is of course very common in the world of films. He really is the most appalling bastard. One gorgeous, sensitive woman isn’t enough for him. He has to have a whole succession of them. Well, I’ve discovered that one gorgeous, sensitive woman was certainly enough for me and I lost her and now I’m not remotely interested in any other and don’t think I ever will be.
The premiere is of course a real emotional issue for me. At first I thought I’d stay away, not knowing if I could face seeing Lucy with Phipps. George and Trevor, however, say that I have to come. They point out that the film is very good and that this should be celebrated. Actually I’ve seen a tape and I think that it’s good too. Ewan Proclaimer may be an arrogant, heartless bastard, but he certainly deserves his reputation as a hot director. Perhaps the two go hand in hand. George and Trevor also point out that the story is mine (and Lucy’s) and that if anyone should be present at the moment of triumph it should be me. After all, George argued with his customary brutal honesty, I’ve fucked up my entire life and sacrificed the only thing I had that was worth having in order to write this movie. I might as well go to the party.
Dear Penny
I never expected to open this book again. It ended so sadly I imagined I’d want nothing more to do with it. Now, however, I have something to say that should be recorded here because it’s the end of the story and also the beginning. Besides this, I have no one else to talk to, Penny. I don’t want to talk to Carl because it might be nothing and if it is nothing I’d prefer never to have to think of it again, and if it isn’t nothing then I don’t want to speak until I know for sure. This is why you, Penny, must be my only confidante.
You see, I think I might be pregnant. I’m three weeks late and the tester from Boots has proved positive. I’ve made an appointment to see Dr Cooper tomorrow.
I can hardly allow myself to believe that it might finally have happened.
PENNY!
Dr Cooper has confirmed it. This is the single happiest moment of my life. I am numb with joy.
I must stay calm, however. These are very early days; it could all still go wrong.
I’ve been concentrating very hard on my breathing.
A baby, Penny! Imagine it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted from life.
It’s now a little later. I’ve been making some camomile tea and attempting to centre myself. My heart has been pounding so mightily since I got back from the surgery that I’m scared I’m going to shake everything right out of me. I must struggle to control my joy.
Perhaps it’ll help if I confess to you, Penny, that this joy is also tinged with one tiny element of sadness. You know what it is, of course. I’ve written to you so often about my love for Sam that you will not have expected the passing of that love to leave no mark on me at all. It is of course very sad that Sam, whom I loved so much and for so long and with whom I shared so many disappointments, can be no part of this wonderful moment.
It’s not that I wish that the baby was his, not at all. I loved Sam with all my heart but love when it is not reciprocated is a pretty useless thing and I walked away. I thought that Sam loved me and I’m quite sure that he thought he did too, but he didn’t. What he did to me proved that. If you love someone you do not use them and abuse them, you do not betray them utterly. Love has to include respect and consideration and trust. It’s a partnership in which one partner protects the other. Sam didn’t protect me and he didn’t love me. He didn’t love anyone, certainly not himself. Poor Sam.
It wasn’t easy getting over him or coming to terms with what happened to me, but thank goodness I had Carl. Carl has been a true and loving friend and has seen me through the most difficult time of my life. I don’t think I could have got through without him.
He wrote to me the day after the awful scene on the film set and asked if he could see me. I admit I flew to him, I was so upset and confused about everything that I was happy to get comfort and affection wherever I could find it. I’m very glad I did.
We didn’t sleep together that first night, or the next, but I admit that it was not long afterwards.
My God, Penny, it was wonderful!
Perhaps it was the rawness of my emotions and also the rather defunct nature of my sex life in the preceding months that made me so receptive, but credit must also go to Carl. Some men just have a knack, that’s all. I know that now. He made love to me as if it was the only thing that he wanted to do on earth at that moment. And do you know? I think it was.
It went on for weeks, Penny, that first glorious fling. I just took a complete holiday from everything and pretty much lived to make love to Carl. Sheila issued all sorts of dire warnings about being caught on the rebound and displacement of unhappiness and things like that but Drusilla said that passion is its own reward and she was right!
Carl is the first man I have ever been with (there have not been exactly many) who really seems to relish massaging a woman. I don’t mean feeling her up prior to leaping aboard, I mean massaging, properly applying himself to the job of soothing and relaxing her with no other thought in mind than that. It’s a wonderful thing. He still does it (although perhaps not quite as often). We lie together naked on his bed and he’s happy to work at my neck and shoulders for an hour or more. One thing I did notice is that he likes to watch himself while he does it. He has a large mirror at the end of his bed and I often catch him drinking in the rippling muscles of his image as he massages me. Fair enough, I suppose. No reason why he should be watching me. I can assure you he has a lot better muscle definition than I have.
We don’t actually live together, but we spend a lot of time in each other’s place. I love the weekends. Carl is very big on Sunday mornings, lots of croissants and real coffee, big dressing gowns and the papers, just like being in a hotel, which is lovely. Those are some of my favourite times. That and occasional trips to a little cottage he has in the Cotswolds, all logfires and stone walls, very Wuthering Heights. We do have a lot of fun together, we really do. I can’t say it’s been perfect, of course. I’ve had my low moments, as, no doubt, has he. The truth is I was in love with Sam for six years and you don’t get over something like that in a couple of minutes, particularly if you had no idea that the thing was going to end. Carl also carries baggage with him. It’s not another girl, it’s more… well, Carl loves himself rather a lot, not in a horrid way, don’t get me wrong, in fact it’s quite charming. It’s just I sometimes feel that simply being Carl Phipps is often enough
