Inconceivable

for Carl. He doesn’t need anyone else.

That’s why I must be very careful about this business of our baby. Carl often says he loves me and how much he regrets the fact that I seem to be unable to have kids, but I don’t know how he’ll feel when confronted with the fact that I’m having one. I shan’t force him. Of course I want more than anything for him to be as pleased as I am and for us to be a family, but if he’s not ready for it then I’ll simply have to think again.

I do love Carl, I know I do. It is not the same as my love for Sam was, of course. I don’t think that any two loves can ever be the same. If they were they’d be interchangeable and what would be the point of that? In one way my love for Carl is more exciting (I think you can guess in which way, Penny) and I suppose in other ways it’s less so. I must say it’s very strange living with a man who likes to talk so much. By rights I should love it. Sam, of course, was famously the man hidden behind the newspaper and I hated that. It’s just that Carl’s preferred topic of conversation is himself. It’s great fun and very charming and terribly interesting at times and it’s also rather impressive. I’m constantly astonished at the skill with which he seems able to bring the most unlikely topics back to the subject of Carl Phipps. Mention metaphysics and Carl will tell you that he has for a number of years been working on a verse play about John Donne; mention Schleswig Holstein and Carl has made a toothpaste commercial in Flensburg. It’s his work, really It possesses him. Basically Carl is and always will be a very very dedicated actor. His art means everything to him, and that is as it should be. It’s just that occasionally I do want to say to him that there might be tougher and more emotionally draining jobs than acting – fireman, for example, or paramedic. In fact I did say that to him quite recently and he told me that in fact it has been scientifically proven that the amount of adrenalin released into the body when an actor tackles a lead Shakespearean role is equivalent to that experienced by the victim of a car crash.

Perhaps I just attract men who are obsessed with their work. At least Carl is enthusiastic about his, unlike gloomy old Sam. At least Carl believes in himself.

I’m writing this at Carl’s flat. I have a key and of course I want to tell him the wonderful news as soon as I possibly can. I tried his mobile but he’s on set and mobiles are banned. Not the Inconceivable set. That was finished months ago. He’s guesting on an ITV detective thing, playing a charming killer. I’m sure he’s wonderful in it (he says he isn’t but I can see he knows he is). Inconceivable is about to be released and there seems to be rather a lot of excitement about it. In fact, I’ve agreed to go to the premiere, which is the day after tomorrow. At first I was adamant that I wouldn’t, but in the end I was persuaded. The whole thing is still sort of unfinished business, and I think that seeing the film might finally draw a line beneath it all.

Also I do want to see Sam again and perhaps at his moment of triumph (our moment of triumph; I’m a credited and paid-up writer, ha!) will be a good time. I can hear Carl letting himself in. Time to tell him the news.

I’ve told Carl and he’s absolutely thrilled. He went all misty-eyed and talked a lot about fatherhood and his own father and the circle of time and the scheme of things and replacing himself on earth. Then he put on his big coat and went for a very long walk, returning looking windswept and very serious. I suggested that we should go out and celebrate but he didn’t want to. He says that creating a life is a huge responsibility and he wants to spend some time in meditation. Each to their own, of course, but nonetheless it would have been nice to chink glasses for a moment even if I can only drink water.

Perhaps he’ll be more fun at the premiere. I know there’s to be quite a party.

Dear Sam

I’m writing this on the evening of the premiere of Inconceivable. I should be tying my bow tie because it’s all going to be rather a posh do, but I can’t find it. I can’t find my trousers either. I can never find anything in the house any more. This is because everything is on the floor, which also happens to be where I keep my pizza boxes and my empty bottles and cans. Therefore there’s much confusion. George is in the other room waiting for me. He’s kindly agreed to be my date for the night but only if I wash my hair and trim my beard. This I’ve done. I’m also wearing the brand new underwear that Melinda kindly sent round. I must presume that I was beginning to smell.

I’ll see Lucy tonight at the premiere. I think that’s why I’m writing this now, just to sort of focus myself.

I don’t know how I’ll be able to bear it when I see her, particularly when she arrives with another man. I love her so much, you see. Every day I’m amazed at how much I love her. I certainly didn’t know that I felt this strongly when I had her. When I think of all the evenings when I turned down the chance to hold her and to touch her because I wanted to work or read the paper. My God, if I had my time again.

Actually, I’ve finally finished my next script and it’s about just that. It’s called Don’t It Always Seem to Go and it’s about a bloke fucking up his life and then realizing what he’s lost. Amazingly, I’ve got it commissioned. George and Trevor think it’s even better than Inconceivable. Lucy was right. All I needed to do was draw from within.

Dear Penny

Tonight has been very strange. I hardly know what to think.

This evening I attended the premiere of Inconceivable, which, first of all, I must say I thought was wonderful. Sam really did do a marvellous job. I always knew what a good writer he is. I won’t say that it was easy seeing all that pain played out again on screen (and revisiting my own thoughts), but it was done very sensitively and also extremely amusingly. I do think that it’s good to be able to laugh about the subject. It’s sort of empowering. Perhaps it’s my current happiness that made it possible for me to enjoy the film, but I don’t think so. I really believe that I would have appreciated it anyway, although it would of course have been much more difficult to watch.

The whole evening was much more glamorous than I expected and also more exciting. Well, I suppose it’s a pretty exciting thing, going to the premiere of a movie you didn’t even know you’d half written. I went with Carl and it was a very strange experience to be at the centre of all that attention. Cameras flashed, microphones appeared from nowhere, and people with autograph books shouted “Carl! Carl!” and also occasionally “Gilbert!” which I know he didn’t like because he made The Tenant of Wildfell Hall nearly three years ago. He looked lovely, I must say, like James Bond’s intellectual brother. I had on a new dress from Liberty’s, which I was quite pleased with, very posh and rather daring at the front. The Wonderbra has of course done wonders for the smaller bosom, and now I’m pregnant perhaps I’ll grow my own.

Of course a great deal of the excitement that surrounded Carl and me was that it was our first time out at a big event as “an item”. Lots of journalists wanted to know about our future plans but we just smiled gaily and said how thrilled we were about the film.

Tonight has been the most extraordinary and may just possibly turn out to be the happiest of my life.

And not because the film was a great success, although it was, which was wonderful. They cheered at the end and I don’t think they were just being nice. We had a real star-studded premiere with lots of celebs. Quite a few that I used to know had rallied round which I was touched by. There was a real crush in the foyer with TV and radio people grabbing interviews from anyone they recognized. I was trying to fight my way through to the booze and I heard Dog and Fish being very nice about the film.

“Brilliant,” said Dog. “If you like your comedy with big laughs, this is it.”

“Personally we prefer our comedy with a small side salad,” Fish added. I think they’re improving.

Charlie Stone turned up, which was very nice of him because he really is hip at the moment, and the press went mad. Particularly because he had the gorgeous Brenda on his arm as well, which guaranteed pictures.

“Gagmongous!” I heard him saying to a Morning TV crew. “Megatastic! And what about that Nimnh totty, eh? Did she give me the horn or what!”

“Yeah, she’s a real strong babe,” Brenda added.

Even Joe London was there with his wife Toni, and also Wally the guitarist. Joe was positive about the movie if a little faint in his praise.

“Not bad,” he said. “Fort it was a bit of a bird’s film myself. What jew fink, Toni?”