Relationships Blog
Dating Diary
May 27, 2008: plight of the Valkyrie
This week, Linda Franklin, our internet dating blogger, is poised to broker peace between a friend and her lover's ex-wife on the war path
Julie and I were sitting at separate pavement tables in one of those corner restaurant bars in Hove. Like we didn't know each other. I was incognito and we were waiting for Nelson's ex-wife - the very slim one with the red bobbed hair - to have it out with Julie. I was on strict orders to dash in and break it up should it get at all nasty - and be on hand with the Kleenex if it it looked like Julie and Nelson were going pear shaped because the ex-Mrs Nelson was taking him back.
'Course it could mean she wants to wish me the best of luck with him and let me have the recipe for his favourite casserole,' Julie shouted over to me.
'Yes, it could be that,' I said. Doubtfully. 'Where is that waiter - we've been here ten minutes, it's like we've got our invisible cloaks on...'
But the next minute, a black open top Mercedes took the corner a bit close for comfort, The Flight of the Valkyries thundering out. I saw a flash of hair like a copper helmet, then the brakes were slammed on and the car squealed into reverse.' Didn't look like she was delivering a recipe for casserole...
The music was killed mercilessly, mid-note and the door slammed and we heard the determined clip of metal stilettos on concrete. She passed me in a cloud of Chanel a swish of silk. And - would you believe it - the waiter was there right away and standing to attention!
'Double brandy and double espresso,' she snapped at him. 'And what would you like - apart from my husband, of course?' She looked at Julie.
'Oh a latte would be just fine right now,' said Julie.
And off he went, without even looking at me. Julie grimaced sorry at me as Mrs Nelson snapped open her mirror and applied red lipstick. When she finished she pulled from her bag a pair of huge, pink lacy knickers.
'I came to return these,' she said. 'They were under the Nelson's sofa.'
'They're not mine!' Julie said.
'They're your size!'
'But they're huge!' said Julie 'They must be somebody else's...'
'Then we have a "situation"', said Mrs Nelson. 'He's obviously up to his old tricks again I see. You'd think a gynaecologist would have enough of it in the day but - ah good, here are the drinks!' She downed the brandy in one and sipped the coffee meditatively, sagely.
'Tricks,' Julie said. 'What tricks?'
'Oh well, Nelson and I have a tempestuous - but very passionate relationship - sort of 'can't live with and can't live without'... And sometimes I go off for a little while. And in that time - I've noticed it before, you know - it's as if he needs several women to console him. It takes quite a few women to replace me...
'You mean---'
'Oh, Julie my dear! You didn't think you were the only one did you? Honestly?' This last was said in a tone of utmost compassion.
'Well, he certainly gave me that impression...'
'Oh dear, how sad....' A pause. A sip of coffee. Carefully pursed lips as she replaced the cup thoughtfully in its saucer and looked at Julie in a pitying and 'let me be frank' way.
'What is?' asked Julie.
'He told me last night he was only going out with you because he felt sorry for you,' she said. 'It's me he wants, Julie. Understand that.' She looked at her watch. 'Is that the time? I'm late.' And off she went.
I went over to Julie: 'You okay?'
'The cow didn't pay for her drinks!' said Julie.
