New Beginnings Revive

Donald spread his hands helplessly. 'I couldn't do the accent, so I pretended I'd lost my voice. Then, when I thought I'd got away with it, the Filth threw another fan in with us. It was only the bastard I'd been arrested for scrapping with, wasn't it? The one who'd said he'd recognize me again, anywhere on earth . . .'

I was proud of my staying power that lunchtime. I don't actually have bladder problems but mine is girl-sized (obviously!). As I quite often drink at the pace of a man, trips to the loo can become quite frequent. Anyway, I was one of the last to make a comfort call that day. I did what I had to do then went to rinse my hands.

And Katrina was there, leaning on the nearest basin, her expression grim.

'Oh, hi,' I said. 'May I . . .'

'So,' she countered, her voice not in the least husky or seductive. 'You're the opposition, are you?' Her laugh was harsh. 'What the fuck have you got that I haven't?'

'Good manners?' I ventured.

'The face on you,' Katrina went on. 'I turn my back for a few weeks and you jump into my bed. And now you want to throw me out on my ear. Not happening, Mikela darling. Trust me, it is not fucking happening.'

My temper was twitching under the strain. 'I'll throw you out of here on your ear if you don't get out of my way,' I snarled.

'Hah!' she went, but moved as far as the door. 'Dave doesn't really love you,' she said before beating a hasty retreat. 'Oh, she thinks she does, but she doesn't. She still loves me. That's why I've been fucking her ten hours a day ever since I got back.'

*****

Time for another break. But, before I go, here's a reassurance. You might assume I'd just had my second consecutive Sunday lunchtime from Hell. That I'm off to down litres of vino, hoping to drown my sorrows.

Well I hadn't and I'm not. That brief confrontation was the best news I'd had all week. Katrina was rattled! My only-too-perfect rival had her doubts! And, more to the point, she was clearly rattled and doubtful because Dave wanted rid.

Don't get me wrong, everything wasn't suddenly sweetness and light. That parting shot had hurt every bit as much as it was meant to. But . . .

But Dave genuinely wanted Katrina to go. In spite of everything said and done, Dave wanted me ahead of her. I'd won!

Or, rather, I'd almost won. Katrina was still sleeping under Dave's roof, presumably in Dave's bed, beguiling her with her intercontinental sexual skills. Her, the Wicked Witch of Australia, beguiling my poor, innocent Dave.

Big transformation or what? I know I only recently vowed not to be a soft touch, implying Dave could have me on my terms or not at all. And I know my own behaviour doesn't exactly put me up there with Sir Galahad and the Knights of the Round Table. But that was then, not now. Now my rival had shown weakness as well as her true colours. Now I had a cause.

Dave needed saving from herself. The witch had cast a spell over her. She needed Princess Charming to ride to her rescue.

I'll be back anon with the final instalment of my tale. Will I find a way to cancel the evil spell and save my love? Or will Witch Katrina prevail? The truth at this moment is I don't know. I've been brooding over possibilities for nearly a week, dismissing one infeasible solution after another.

But I have a plan.