by Niamh Greene
13 May
Worst day of my life ever. The Gazette article ran today, but not with the poor-starving-celeb tone Angelica had been angling for. The front-page headline blared, ‘Author’s Secret Mistress Speaks Out About Famous Friend’s Affair’.
Today, the Gazette can exclusively reveal the identity of a bestselling author’s secret lover – Susie Hunt, a thirty-something housewife from the suburbs. Inside, Susie, best friend of Angelica Law, tells all about her alternative deviant sex life and that of her adulterous gal-pal Angelica.
There were loads of made-up quotes, alongside a picture of me coming out of work, looking at least fifteen years older than I am.
Now I know why Elaine was so nice to me yesterday – she must have eavesdropped on my telephone interview, then tipped off the journalist about my identity. Was forced to confess the whole sorry tale to Joe and explain that I only did the interview to pay off our debts (and maybe snag us a family holiday to Disneyland with any leftovers).
He was furious. ‘This is so humiliating, Susie,’ he said. ‘Everyone will know about our private life now.’
‘But half of it’s made up!’ I pleaded. ‘You know that. You said yourself hacks have no morals – they’ll write anything for a good story, even if they have to fabricate the details.’
Not sure he was convinced. He retreated to the kitchen and spent the afternoon whipping up the most difficult recipes in Jamie’s cookbook so I knew he was really upset.
Meanwhile, Angelica was appalled that she wasn’t the main focus of the article and took to her room to apply multiple face masks and call her LA agent for advice.
Then Mrs H burst through the door, wearing her Gay Pride T-shirt and looking fierce. ‘Susie, are you gay?’ she asked, taking me by the shoulders.
‘Of course not,’ I said, wondering if stress had brought on some kind of hallucination.
‘Are you sure?’ She looked a bit disappointed.
‘I’m positive,’ I said.
‘Well, you and that Angelica girl are quite friendly and the paper said you were up to all sorts between the pair of you. If you are gay, you can talk to me about it, you know. I’m very accepting of deviancy, these days.’
She sat beside me and took my hand. Suddenly I felt a bit sniffly. ‘I’m not gay,’ I said, as tears pricked my eyelids. ‘I love Joe, but I’ve really messed things up and I think he’s lost patience with me.’
Mrs H nodded sympathetically and stroked my arm. ‘All is not lost, Susie dear,’ she murmured. ‘Everyone knows those good-for-nothing rags print nothing but rubbish. We’ll sort it out.’
Am taking comfort from this – she did look very determined.
PS Received text from Lone Father: ‘Thanks for the publicity, Susie! Let’s meet some time. XX’.
14 May
Angelica has come round and is now insisting that everything will be all right, but I’m having my doubts. I think she has only cheered up because there are paps camped on the doorstep outside, demanding to speak to her.
I eventually got so angry with the endless ringing of the doorbell that I wrenched the door open to demand they leave.
There, standing on the step, was Magnum, the teenage PI I’d hired to track down Louise’s ex. ‘Hi, Susie.’ He grinned. ‘Give us a quote, will ya?’
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I sighed. ‘You’re not a journalist.’
‘I am now,’ he said. ‘Being a pap is much better paid than being a private investigator – and I have a special skill that makes me stand out from the crowd. My long-lens work is second to none.’ He puffed out his chest and looked dead proud of himself.
‘But I’m a nobody,’ I said. ‘Why are you so interested in me?’
‘Nobodies are really hot right now.’ He adjusted his camera. ‘Blame the reality-TV wannabes – it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘But those people are on TV,’ I argued. ‘At least they have some sort of profile. Some even have their own perfumes, for God’s sake.’
‘So could you, if you played your cards right.’ He winked. ‘Why don’t you let me get a shot of you with your dressing-gown a bit undone? Then my editor would get off my back and I could go home.’
He looked so drained I almost felt sorry for him, but my inner sense kicked in before I was tempted to get out a droopy boob for public display. ‘I don’t think so.’ I was annoyed I’d almost let myself fraternize with the enemy. ‘I wouldn’t stoop that low.’
‘Well, I guess I’ll have to hang around for a bit longer, then,’ he said, sounding bored. ‘But I have to warn you, your Venetian blinds are practically useless. An amateur could get a good shot through those.’
Am now practically a prisoner in my own home and unable even to pop down to the local shops without causing a near riot with the paparazzi. (The up-side is I cannot possibly go back to work until the fuss dies down and at least I’ll be able to watch the complete DVD set of Friends that Joe bought me for Christmas so all is not lost. Also, living in semi-darkness with the blinds closed isn’t that bad – it hides the dust quite effectively.)
15 May
Angelica’s LA agent has advised that we should leave the house soon, holding our heads high, so the press can get some good shots of us and the story will stay on the front pages.
‘We need to act dignified,’ Angelica said, slapping on a face mask, ‘like we have nothing to hide.’
I was tempted to tell her that I have quite a lot to hide, actually, and that I really would appreciate it if she just upped sticks and left before my sordid past really caught up with me, but I didn’t like to say anything in case she was offended.
Meanwhile, Katie seems to be enjoying the paparazzi attention. She changed her outfit five times this morning and has been practising holding a newspaper across her face.
‘Why are you doing that, darling?’ I asked.
‘I want to hide from the paps, Mummy,’ she answered, as if I was a complete moron. ‘That will really hook their interest.’
‘Why do you think that?’ I asked, bemused.
‘Angelica told me,’ she said. ‘She said I have to treat ’em mean to keep ’em keen.’
Tackled Angelica in the kitchen about turning Katie into a media wannabe at the age of five.
‘The sooner she knows some of the tricks of the trade, the sooner she’ll make it in Hollywood,’ she explained patiently. ‘I wish I’d known all this when I started. Then I could have been a proper celebrity, not just married to one.’
At least Joe’s mood is improving – he has even started passing out some cookery samples to the paparazzi. ‘I may as well do a bit of research while I’ve got the chance,’ he said, whipping up another batch of vol-au-vents, and wiping beads of perspiration from his brow. ‘Hungry paps are vicious critics so at least I’ll know if I’m on the right track.’ I didn’t dishearten him by saying that vicious paps will eat anything as long as it’s free. Although have already spotted quite a few feeding their chicken-curry sandwiches to the dog.
PS Mrs H has decided to camp on the doorstep, holding a flag that reads, ‘Gays are people too.’
‘What are you doing, Mum?’ Joe thundered, when he spotted her handing flyers to the fed-up journos at the front gate.
‘This is an excellent opportunity to get some positive coverage for homosexual rights,’ Mrs H huffed, smoothing her pink T-shirt over her bosom. ‘I’ve persuaded some of the Gay Alliance parents to come over later – we’re going to launch a new initiative. We’re bound to get on the front page.’
Joe was furious, but I was quite pleased. The more issues the press have thrown at them, the less chance there is of even more scandalous details about me leaking out.
16 May
Things have gone rapidly downhill. Lone Father arrived this morning, battled his way to the front door and banged on it, shouting that I should come out and needn’t be scared. I could hear him bellowing through the letterbox that he had the situation under control so I peeped t
hrough the Venetian blinds to see him waving his book while Marita stood, looking smug, on the path beside their car.
‘What’s going on out there now?’ Joe asked, popping a tray of cookies into the oven.
‘Nothing,’ I said, shutting the blinds again. ‘It’s just another nutter trying to climb on the publicity bandwagon.’
‘I hope that’s not a dig at me, Susie.’ He sounded wounded. ‘We have to make the most of the opportunities we have if we’re ever to get our heads above water again. And the journalists seemed to like my last batch – maybe they’ll give me a good write-up, you never know.’
Then he peeped out of the window, saw Lone Father on the step and, before I knew it, had charged through the front door and assaulted him with his cookie-cutter, hitting him over the head with it and roaring at him to get lost or he’d mangle him in his mincer.
‘I’ll see you in court!’ Lone Father shouted, clasping his cut cheek as he backed up the garden path. ‘You’ve ruined my face. If I lose my sponsorship deal with Makeup 4 Men you’re to blame.’
He jumped into his car, Marita at the wheel, and sped off.
‘Now this is more like it!’ I could hear Magnum saying, as I struggled to get Joe back inside. Can’t be sure, but I don’t think he was referring to Joe’s new chocolate and raspberry cookie mix.
When the kids had gone to bed, and Angelica was on the phone to her LA agent again, I had a heart-to-heart with Joe. ‘Honestly,’ I said, ‘I know he claims the book is based on real life – but he made it all up.’
‘I know that,’ he smiled, ‘but it felt good to rough him up a bit. What a pansy.’ Then he pulled his apron on carefully over his head. ‘Scram,’ he said. ‘A man has work to do, you know.’
Don’t think I have ever loved him more.
PS Mum emailed to ask why half of her old neighbours were leaving messages about me.
Breda Lyons seems to think you are being door-stepped, darling. I told her she must be mistaken. Really, as if the press would ever be interested in you – no offence. But isn’t it funny?
PS Dad has taken up windsurfing. He’s become quite good. Even the instructor said he may have natural ability!
17 May
Just as I thought things were improving, the front of today’s Gazette read: ‘Lusty Sex Triangle – Angelica, Me and My Secret Housewife Lover!’ And there was a picture of Lone Father, smouldering out of the front page, manly and seductive in a pale blue lamb’s-wool polo-neck. Then there was a completely fabricated story that the three of us had enjoyed romps together.
‘That low-down creep!’ Angelica screamed when she read it. ‘How dare he drag me into your sordid little affair? Sorry, Susie,’ she mumbled, when she saw my face drop, ‘but he really is downright sleazy.’ She proceeded to use our phone yet again to call her LA agent and discuss it with him.
Decided to smuggle the children to the park for some fresh air and leave her to it. Encouraged Jack to bring his favourite Power Ranger with him to assault the photographers – one swipe with a vicious red Ranger can cause permanent damage.
‘How are plans for the perfume going, Susie?’ Magnum asked nonchalantly, as he rattled off some shots of us battling down the path to the gate.
‘Just fine, thank you,’ I answered, with as much dignity as I could muster, then bundled the kids into the car and took off at high speed to the park.
PS Am considering building a tunnel under the house – am sure it wouldn’t take long.
PPS Got home to find Angelica still on the phone to her LA agent. Am really dreading the next phone bill – wonder if I could get some tax back on all these expenses. Must investigate.
18 May
Was woken this morning by thumping on the front door. Decided to ignore it, hoping that Joe would abandon his dawn baking and get it, but was eventually forced downstairs when the vibrations of the thudding got so violent my teeth started to chatter. I wrenched the door open in a daze to find three vicious-looking men standing on the doorstep. I knew instantly who they were – the tailored Italian suits and gold jewellery gave it away. Danni’s family had tracked her down and were here to wipe me out. For a split second, I was quite relieved: at least there would be no more newspaper stories about my alleged sexual antics if I was mown down in cold blood.
‘Is Daniela here?’ the fattest one asked, in a thick Italian accent – quite politely, it has to be said.
‘Er, no,’ I answered. ‘She doesn’t start work until eight.’
‘OK, we wait,’ he said, as the other two looked about shiftily and rubbed their meaty hands. ‘We have time.’
I wasn’t sure if I should invite them in for a cup of tea, or maybe some strong alcohol, so I stood there gaping at them until Joe stuck his head out of the kitchen and Angelica appeared on the landing to see what was going on.
‘Whata sorta place you got here, lady?’ the fattest one asked, looking fierce.
‘Em, this is my husband, and this is my friend and, um, it’s not like that,’ I stammered, stuck for words to explain how not only did it seem like I was harbouring Danni but it looked like I was having three-in-the-bed romps with all and sundry too. Just then Danni arrived, her face like thunder. ‘Papa,’ she shouted, ‘I told you not to do this. Please go away.’
‘Daniela,’ the fattest one said, ‘I’m here to take you home.’
‘I’m not going,’ Danni sulked. ‘You can’t make me.’
They started yelling wildly at each other in Italian, waving their hands about. Then Magnum appeared and took endless snaps of them and Angelica threw herself into the fray to break it up. ‘I’m fluent in Italian,’ she called, ‘and I’ve got excellent negotiating skills. Please let me help.’
Later I asked her why she’d wanted to get involved in such a bitter domestic dispute. ‘My agent thinks I could be a female Jerry Springer,’ she said. ‘This was the perfect opportunity for the press to capture that side of me.’
I didn’t like to say that frolicking in a see-through nightie on the front step may have given the wrong impression – am not altogether sure that she didn’t let the shoulder strap slip to give a flash of her boobs on purpose.
Later
Danni’s father and his two henchmen are parked in the kitchen and refuse to move, Danni is locked in the spare bedroom and won’t come out, Joe is making finger food to keep up morale, Angelica is on the phone to her LA agent again and the kids are taking photos of the paps from the living-room window.
‘This is fantastic!’ Joe said, as Danni’s father and his henchmen gave instructions on how to make the perfect cannelloni. ‘This kind of one-on-one coaching is priceless. It’s really helping me hone my skills.’
‘Yes, but what will we do about Danni?’ I hoped her father couldn’t understand me. ‘They’re not going to leave until she agrees to go with them.’
‘Could we persuade her to stay upstairs a bit longer, do you think?’ Joe whispered excitedly. ‘You never know, her father might tell me the old Italian secret for making the perfect Bolognese sauce next.’
19 May
Mrs H has persuaded Danni’s father that Danni must be allowed to make her own choices in life, even if that means she refuses to marry the heir to an Italian mob family. ‘You can’t force your children to do what you want them to, Don,’ she said, offering him a fig roll as she made a pot of tea. ‘Look at me and our David. I wanted him to be a common slut like everyone else – and what did he do? He turned homosexual, that’s what.’
‘Mamma mia.’ Don crossed himself.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Mrs H went on. ‘I got a terrible shock, terrible, but then, I picked myself up, dusted myself down and decided to get on with it. Your children are still your children, even if they destroy your life.’ She took a sip of tea and looked sad.
‘You are a strong woman,’ Don said. ‘A very strong woman. Maybe you are right. Maybe it is time for me to let Daniela live her own life.’
‘That’s the spirit!’ Mrs H sa
id. ‘Get involved in other things and stop focusing on her so much. Bingo’s very good here on a Tuesday if you’re going to stay around for a while.’
Am not sure but could have sworn she batted her eyelashes at him.
PS Angelica and her LA agent have decided that the time has come for her to do an in-depth interview on prime-time TV. It has been set up for Chat with Dee and Fran tomorrow. ‘It’ll be brilliant for my profile,’ she purred, as she painted her toenails neon pink in preparation for her appearance in front of thousands, all of whom would be gagging to know the juicy details of her alleged affairs.
Am very relieved. I never realized how draining high-octane drama can be. I have no idea how poor Kate Moss keeps it up and manages to look good. Maybe that twenty-four-hour makeup really can work wonders. Must purchase ASAP.
20 May
Angelica has informed me that, as well as talking about our close friendship live on air, she will be discussing, in depth, my secret affair with Lone Father during her Chat with Dee and Fran interview. ‘I plan on calling you my rock, that sort of thing,’ she said, as I stood with my mouth open, wondering if I could lock her under the stairs to prevent her appearing on the show and dragging my name through the mud. Again.
‘But you can’t say anything about him,’ I cried, distraught. ‘You’ll only make it worse.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she soothed. ‘I’m going to tell everyone that the whole thing was a complete fabrication, a publicity stunt to pump up sales of that sleaze-bag’s book. I’ll destroy him for you. He won’t know what hit him.’ She flicked her ponytail and threw me a dazzling smile.
Was very impressed. Never knew she could be so ruthlessly cold and calculating.
21 May
Angelica has exposed Lone Father for the fraud he really is. Even better, she has done it while approximately a hundred thousand people were tuned in. Can now see how talented she is – she is definitely not ‘a bimbo with artificial boobs and a trout pout’, as the Gazette claimed. She really does have a more serious sensitive side and is probably very well suited to hosting a Jerry Springer-type show. She would definitely be able to converse with trailer trash of all ages.