longer a voluptuous goddess but a fat cow. That was the reason, he said, why he was having an affair with my best friend, Hattie.’
‘ Our best friend,’ amended Coco. ‘We had all been at school together since nursery. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t spotted it. My intuition is usually as sharp
as Sinbad the sailor’s cutlass.’
‘Blimey,’ said Floz, for want of a better word. ‘What did you do?’ She wouldn’t have fancied being the ‘best friend’ after Juliet had found that
out.
‘I let him have his say, of course,’ purred Juliet, in the manner of Fenella Fielding in Carry On Screaming. ‘Then I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and chucked
him and the empty suitcase out of the front door. Then I threw the contents of his wardrobe out of the bedroom window for him so he could pack his suitcase instead of mine. Oh, then I
rang one of the solicitors I work with.’
Karren Brookside was an evil Bitch Queen from hell. She didn’t just get blood for her (female only) clients, she got the veins, arteries, all internal organs and both testicles. Then she
served them up on gold plates with a nice 1945 Château Pétrus. Karren Brookside made Hannibal Lecter look like Anne of Green Gables.
‘Roger’s balls were in his wallet – so that was the best place to kick him,’ said Juliet, who seemed to be enjoying the story of her divorce. ‘He was begging me to
take him back and forget and forgive everything after a month of Karren’s savagery.’
‘But you didn’t?’
‘No, I did not,’ replied Juliet, horrified that Floz had even considered she might. Unlike her brother, Juliet had always had a great sense of self-worth, and woe betide anyone who
tried to mess with her.
Juliet had made her errors with men in the past, but once she had realized she wasn’t top of their agenda, she had cut and run. Her first boyfriend, Pete, was a nice enough bloke but when
she twigged that all those cosy nights in were because he didn’t want his mates to realize he was seeing a rather large lady, he was history. Then there was Gary, who never turned up without
bringing chocolates and spent a fortune on taking her out for meals, insisting she have dessert. She thought she had landed a lottery win to find a man who celebrated her curves so
enthusiastically. Then she discovered his secret stash of American videos: huge women-whales being fed cream cakes, unable to move and totally dependent on their feeder. After finishing with him,
it took her weeks to look an eclair in the face again.
‘What about you, Floz?’ asked Coco. ‘How’s your love-life been?’
Floz looked a bit shy to have the spotlight shone on her.
‘Couple of boyfriends in my teens but nothing that serious, married for ten years to Chris. We just drifted apart and divorced three years ago.’
That was a bit boring, thought both Juliet and Coco, who had been hoping for more of a trade-off of information. Coco pressed for more.
‘How do you just drift apart?’
‘I don’t know. We just fell out of love with each other.’ Floz shrugged shyly.
‘No one since?’ poked Juliet.
‘No one,’ replied Floz too quickly. ‘What about you? Anyone since Roger?’
‘No,’ said Juliet flatly. ‘No, no one since him – I’ve been saving myself for Piers Winstanley-Black. But a year is a long time to go without sex. If we ever do get
it together he’ll find my fanny full of cobwebs,’ she chuckled, making Coco shriek with disgust. ‘I don’t know how you’ve done three years of celibacy,
Floz.’
‘I’ve only done a month,’ said Coco. ‘And that’s been bad enough.’
‘What’s your story, Coco?’ asked Floz. ‘Is that your real name?’
‘It is now,’ he nodded. ‘You can tell her if you like, Ju.’
Coco covered his ears whilst Juliet leaned over to Floz and whispered, ‘His real name is Raymond, but he hates it. One must only ever refer to him as Coco.’
‘Ah, I see,’ said Floz, who couldn’t
‘ Our best friend,’ amended Coco. ‘We had all been at school together since nursery. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t spotted it. My intuition is usually as sharp
as Sinbad the sailor’s cutlass.’
‘Blimey,’ said Floz, for want of a better word. ‘What did you do?’ She wouldn’t have fancied being the ‘best friend’ after Juliet had found that
out.
‘I let him have his say, of course,’ purred Juliet, in the manner of Fenella Fielding in Carry On Screaming. ‘Then I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and chucked
him and the empty suitcase out of the front door. Then I threw the contents of his wardrobe out of the bedroom window for him so he could pack his suitcase instead of mine. Oh, then I
rang one of the solicitors I work with.’
Karren Brookside was an evil Bitch Queen from hell. She didn’t just get blood for her (female only) clients, she got the veins, arteries, all internal organs and both testicles. Then she
served them up on gold plates with a nice 1945 Château Pétrus. Karren Brookside made Hannibal Lecter look like Anne of Green Gables.
‘Roger’s balls were in his wallet – so that was the best place to kick him,’ said Juliet, who seemed to be enjoying the story of her divorce. ‘He was begging me to
take him back and forget and forgive everything after a month of Karren’s savagery.’
‘But you didn’t?’
‘No, I did not,’ replied Juliet, horrified that Floz had even considered she might. Unlike her brother, Juliet had always had a great sense of self-worth, and woe betide anyone who
tried to mess with her.
Juliet had made her errors with men in the past, but once she had realized she wasn’t top of their agenda, she had cut and run. Her first boyfriend, Pete, was a nice enough bloke but when
she twigged that all those cosy nights in were because he didn’t want his mates to realize he was seeing a rather large lady, he was history. Then there was Gary, who never turned up without
bringing chocolates and spent a fortune on taking her out for meals, insisting she have dessert. She thought she had landed a lottery win to find a man who celebrated her curves so
enthusiastically. Then she discovered his secret stash of American videos: huge women-whales being fed cream cakes, unable to move and totally dependent on their feeder. After finishing with him,
it took her weeks to look an eclair in the face again.
‘What about you, Floz?’ asked Coco. ‘How’s your love-life been?’
Floz looked a bit shy to have the spotlight shone on her.
‘Couple of boyfriends in my teens but nothing that serious, married for ten years to Chris. We just drifted apart and divorced three years ago.’
That was a bit boring, thought both Juliet and Coco, who had been hoping for more of a trade-off of information. Coco pressed for more.
‘How do you just drift apart?’
‘I don’t know. We just fell out of love with each other.’ Floz shrugged shyly.
‘No one since?’ poked Juliet.
‘No one,’ replied Floz too quickly. ‘What about you? Anyone since Roger?’
‘No,’ said Juliet flatly. ‘No, no one since him – I’ve been saving myself for Piers Winstanley-Black. But a year is a long time to go without sex. If we ever do get
it together he’ll find my fanny full of cobwebs,’ she chuckled, making Coco shriek with disgust. ‘I don’t know how you’ve done three years of celibacy,
Floz.’
‘I’ve only done a month,’ said Coco. ‘And that’s been bad enough.’
‘What’s your story, Coco?’ asked Floz. ‘Is that your real name?’
‘It is now,’ he nodded. ‘You can tell her if you like, Ju.’
Coco covered his ears whilst Juliet leaned over to Floz and whispered, ‘His real name is Raymond, but he hates it. One must only ever refer to him as Coco.’
‘Ah, I see,’ said Floz, who couldn’t
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