The Case of the Missing Boyfriend by Nick Alexander

Author:Nick Alexander
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780857896322
Publisher: Corvus
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

On Saturday the first coat takes considerably less time than I had hoped, but even this works out fine. The smell of paint drives me from the house and, at a loss for anything better to do, I simply go to the cinema. Vicky Cristina Barcelona, the latest Woody Allen film, does just the trick: it demonstrates that people in relationships are as miserable as I am.

By the time Sunday evening comes, my kitchen is looking positively perky.

To reward myself and to find a fresh victim for table-moving duties, I order a pizza from Domino’s. The delivery guy is the usual spotty adolescent, but he eventually agrees (on hearing my offer of a five quid tip) to help me move the table back where it came from.

It’s only once I have eaten my pizza and downed a third of a bottle of Chardonnay (my first drink for three days) that my carefully constructed optimism finally starts to disintegrate. For how much nicer it would be to have a boyfriend to help move tables! How much nicer to have a man to share the wine! How much nicer to have my boyfriend drop in unexpectedly and congratulate me on my stunning handiwork!

Just as I am wavering over whether to drink the rest of the bottle and collapse into a satisfying state of misery or put the bottle away and heroically resist, my period starts. I have to run, knock-kneed to the bathroom. I’m now nearly a week late so the relief is stunning.

I don’t get that irritable with PMT, thank God, but when the dam finally breaks, there is always a weird moment of clarity – a fleeting instant of comprehension – in which I realise that at least fifty per cent of whatever emotional state I was in was caused by PMT after all.

A wave of calm rolls over me. Within minutes, I feel centred, composed and thoroughly relaxed: at one with everything and everyone – even with the rain outside. Even with Mrs Pilchard. Even, dare I say it, with her Leylandii.

By ten I’m tucked up in bed with Living Life Lightly, trying to concentrate on exercise one.

Thoughts, the book says, become reality. Exercise A is simply to force oneself to imagine the outcomes one desires in life.

It takes me quite a few attempts to create a mental picture of a brown-eyed man who is neither alcoholic, nor balloon fetishist, nor bastard, but in the end I manage it.

By the time I drift off to sleep, I am daydreaming, and then suddenly dreaming, of a man and a baby and a big farm kitchen. A big farm kitchen with freshly painted walls.

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