How to Have an Almost Perfect Marriage

by Mrs Stephen Fry

  T

  Tea Room – Obviously, no home would be complete without such a room. Where else would you keep your dozens of teapots and scores of kettles? Where else would you put your many caddies and your teaspoon collection? Where else could you spend the afternoon relaxing to the sound of that bubbling water and the scent of PG tips? Fortunately, our house has the perfect Tea Room – well, it is now I’ve moved the twins’ beds out.

  Technology – If you’re as fond of gadgets as my Stephen (I often can’t move for the piles of DVD players and mobile phones he has stacked up throughout the house – although, to be fair to him, they generally disappear as quickly as they arrive – often in virtual silence in the middle of the night) your idea of the dream home would be some kind of high-tech apartment. But before you head blindly into this futuristic fantasy world, a note of caution, dears. While these seemingly utopian dwellings might be very appealing, there is a darker side as anyone who has saw the 1977 documentary Demon Seed will attest. While I fully appreciate the attraction of such amenities as electric doors and remote-controlled curtains, I draw the line at impregnation by a malevolent computer. It’s quite bad enough with Stephen, thank you very much.

  Themes – When deciding how to decorate your house, it’s important to decide on a theme. Stephen and I spent several long weeks discussing this when we first moved into our current home but struggled to reach common ground. I favoured a rustic theme with a farmhouse kitchen and natural textures throughout the house whereas he preferred the theme from Shaft. In the end, we arrived at a compromise – I ignored him and he went to the pub.

  U

  Underfloor Heating – An extremely desirable feature of any home.

  Underfloor Indian Burial Ground – A less desirable feature of any home (see also – television repairs)

  V

  Veranda – Found at the back of the house, a raised platform from which to view the garden.

  Veronica – Also found at the back of the house. And under the bed. And in the airing cupboard. Stephen’s not fooling anyone when he says she likes to play hide and seek.

  W

  Walk-in Wardrobe – This is usually a feature of more interest to the wife, although when we were looking for our first marital home (in this instance the word ‘first’ applies here to ‘home’ not ‘marital’ although I still live in hope), the one thing Stephen insisted on was a walk-in wardrobe. The novelty soon wore off, however, when he discovered it wasn’t quite as large as he had envisaged, nor did it contain any talking lions. For me, it was no more enticing – unlike many women, I’ve never seen the need for countless dresses or pairs of shoes. As far as I’m concerned, as long as they’re made of good, sturdy leather and can withstand rain and dog mess that’s all you need. And the same applies to shoes.

  Wet Room – Supposedly a relatively new development, a wet room is essentially an entire room filled with water, although I have to say that Stephen created the concept several years ago – and every year since, on the occasion of his annual bath.

  Wicker – Whether it’s a chair, a laundry basket or a giant pagan sacrificial figure, you can’t do better than wicker – light, fashionable and equally uncomfortable no matter which of the aforementioned uses to which you put it.

  Windows – They can be single-, double- or even triple-glazed but all windows serves the same purpose – to enable you to sit all day staring hopelessly out at the grey, empty world, wondering how you came to be stuck here with six or seven children and a husband whose idea of a cultural evening is a seat at Monster Trucks on Ice and whose idea of romance is two seats at Monster Trucks on Ice.

  X

  Xylophones, X-ray Machines, X-Men Origins: Wolverine – to be perfectly honest with you, dears, this is little more than a list of words beginning with X. If I were you, I’d move on to Y…

  Y

  Yak, Yemen, Yoko Ono…well, maybe on to Z, then…

  Z

  Zebra – Got you, dears! Contrary to what you may have been thinking, this isn’t merely a randomly chosen word beginning with Z. Zebra stripes make a bold fashion statement in your home, whether on your cushions, your bedspread or even your kitchen units (if you’re looking to make an even bolder statement, use the whole zebra).

  chapter five

  Between The Sheets

  As a married couple, there is one subject it’s very important to discuss openly and frankly, and that’s the subject of ‘you-know-what’.

  Without you-know-what, you and I wouldn’t exist – it’s fundamental to life and, so I’m led to believe, pleasure. You-know-what is everywhere – on billboards, on television, on the sides of buses. There are you-know-what magazines, you-know-what shops on the high street, even you-know-what-on-the-beach cocktails. As the advertising industry so succinctly puts it, ‘You-know-what sells.’

  And yet it’s still important, in this age of permissiveness and Hollyoaks, to remember the real purpose of you-know-what. No, dears, not procreation – that’s merely an unfortunate side-effect. The real purpose is to annoy your neighbours. Without that, it’s meaningless. Why else would a couple bounce up and down, grunting and howling like a pair of rabid baboons (or in our case, one rabid baboon and his reluctant handler)?

  POSITIONS

  There are, apparently, several different positions in which to engage in you-know-what. One of Stephen’s favourites is called, I think, the Below Job – presumably because the wife is positioned somewhat lower than her spouse. I won’t go into too many details aside from saying it’s a little tough on the knees and if it’s not quite to your taste, it’s probably best just to take it on the chin. His other favourite is the wheelbarrow, which involves me wheeling him home from the pub in a barrow.

  Of course, Stephen is rather more outspoken than me on this subject – indeed, he’s a veritable carnal thesaurus. Here are his current 50 favourite words to describe you-know-what – and believe me, dears, these are only the tip of the iceberg…

  STEVEN’S 50 WORDS FOR YOU-KNOW-WHAT

  (With my deepest apologies to you all, particularly the lovely Kate Bush. Don’t worry, dear – the ankle bracelet’s been firmly re-attached.)

  Boinking

  Doinking

  Barry White-out

  The Eagle Has Landed

  Crumpet

  Geese-a-laying

  Vesuvius

  Peperami Party

  Mount Edna

  Rumpy-pumpy

  Making the Beast with Two Backsides

  Parking the Purple Porsche

  Humpalumpa

  Taking little Stephen to the Toy Shop

  Straddlesplashing

  Nookie

  Up Periscope!

  Widdecombe Wept

  Googling

  Up-a-down Penguins

  Torso Trembler

  Doing the Fandango

  Nomisterfloppy

  Towering Inferno

  Boiler-bunnying

  Packing the Trunk

  Whisky-frisky

  Kebabarama

  Boingy Boingy

  Sodastreaming

  Slappaccino

  Going for Gold

  How’s Your Father

  How’s Your Mother

  Where’s Your Sister

  Thrustathon

  Letting Loose the Light Saber

  Scaramangabanga

  Hammer Time

  The Vanishing Vuvuzela

  Crème Passionnelle

  Flobadobadob

  Where’s Willy

  Bad for Backs

  Fumblecustard

  Didgeridooing It

  Jiggery Pokery

  Anointing the Archbishop

  Dipping the Dongle

  Frying Tonight!

  FANTASIES

  It’s not uncommon for husbands and wives to secretly fantasise about someone else during you-know-what. However, some people are better at keeping these fantasies secret than other
s. Personally, I would never reveal any of my imaginary paramours whereas Stephen is rather less discreet, often shouting out a name from his extensive celebrity fantasy list at the peak of his excitement. On occasion he recites the entire list which, while mildly distracting, does have the detrimental effect of extending the process beyond the usual three minutes.

  Some couples even take this process one step further by actually putting pen to paper and compiling lists of celebrities they are ‘allowed to sleep with’ should the opportunity arise. I wouldn’t normally condone such permissiveness but when he heard about this, Stephen insisted we each write down – and publish – our own list. And so, with a degree of reluctance, here they are.

  My List

  Sir Elton John (if only he weren’t already married)

  Sir Ian McKellen (a true gentleman with a child-like twinkle)

  Graham Norton (cheeky, red-blooded Irish charmer)

  John Barrowman (the traditional lantern-jawed ladies’ man)

  Hugh Laurie (can’t think how he got on the list. In fact, I’ve never heard of him and neither have any of my children – especially Hugh Junior.)

  Stephen’s List

  Beyonce (apparently she’s bootylicious, whatever that is)

  Pan’s People (who count as one, apparently, due to their perfectly synchronised movements)

  Jessica Rabbit (he assures me she’s not an actual rabbit)

  The woman at the post office (not technically a celebrity although surprisingly well-known)

  Pretty much anyone who’s up for it

  Of course, it’s important not to take these lists too seriously. They should be regarded as whimsical flights of fancy and not, as in Stephen’s case, a legally-enforceable set of instructions.

  FOREPLAY

  The key to foreplay is not to rush it. It should be a slow, tantalising process. I would suggest a gentle back rub with essential oils – or if your budget is limited, a few non-essential ones. Tell your spouse to lie down on their front. A professional masseuse would have a special table with a hole for the client to put his or her face through but if a massage table is beyond your means, I find setting up a camp bed next to the toilet equally effective (and has a useful secondary function should your partner have over-indulged). If you and your partner are particularly close, you could ask them to roll up or even remove their top beforehand. To avoid shocking your partner, I would recommend warming the oil in your hands before letting it touch their skin – rather than in the deep fat fryer (not a mistake I’ll make again – our chips tasted terrible for weeks).

  Once the oil has reached body temperature, apply it carefully to the back, making sure it doesn’t seep over the sides onto the bed sheets or kitchen table. Then, using your palms, rub the oil gently into the skin using a slow, circular motion. Gradually increase the pressure until you can feel the muscles in your partner’s back become more pliant, like pizza base mix (resist the temptation to add tomato puree and mozzarella at this point – there’s plenty of time for that later).

  And that’s really all there is to it. If you’ve followed the steps correctly, your partner should be feeling completely relaxed. You may choose to extend the process to include legs, arms and other less attractive areas but hopefully, they’ll be asleep by now. If not, make them a nice mug of Ovaltine and you should be able to get on with reading your book in peace.

  FAKING IT

  If your foreplay technique isn’t up to scratch or, like my Stephen, your partner’s simply a bit of an animal, you still have one more option – fake it. It doesn’t matter what it is – headache, toothache, your own death – just so long as you don’t actually have to do ‘it’. This way, you will guarantee a long and happy physical relationship and it doesn’t need to involve you. As that dreadful creature on the insurance adverts says – Easy!

  DRESSING TO IMPRESS

  If, in spite of the previous paragraphs, you still want to get your partner in the mood, you can try wearing provocative lingerie – perhaps something black and lacy. Women can try this too, although personally, I prefer to wear something a touch more discreet. I find that it adds to the mystery and enflames Stephen’s ardour far more than anything too revealing. I have an entire range of more sophisticated items guaranteed to knock his socks off, unless he’s removed them himself for once.

  Firstly, there’s my baby doll nightie – a racy, full-length flannelette number with an iron-on picture of Tiny Tears on the front. Then there’s my see-through nightcap (actually it’s a Travelodge shower-cap, which you’re perfectly entitled to take if you’re a guest, along with those small bottles of shampoo, the towels and the television – according to Stephen). But my piece de resistance, the things that really drive my husband wild, are my crochetless panties (I knitted them instead). All of which play their part in keeping Stephen’s ardour on a steady flame (rather than boiling over). He even refers to me as his ‘Mother I Like to Do Everything With’ – or MILDEW. He’s so sweet.

  For his part, Stephen is often only too happy to parade around in his Phantom Menace pyjamas for my pleasure (or so he chooses to believe). Sometimes he even performs a striptease, slowly and carefully removing one item of clothing after another before triumphantly flinging his Y-fronts in the air while gyrating balletically to whatever music the shopping centre happens to be playing at the time.

  ROLE-PLAY

  Some couples like to add a little spice to their nocturnal activities by pretending to be someone else. Stephen’s constantly asking me to dress up as Princess Leia from Star Wars but the hairdo really doesn’t work with my hat so he invariably has to settle for a Han Solo. I have to admit I did once agree to participate in his plumber/bored housewife role-play fantasy – I waited in all day and he never turned up.

  KEEPING THE MAGIC ALIVE

  One question I often hear from my married friends is ‘Does he still fancy me?’. I tell them straight, ‘Of course he does, Stephen fancies anything in a skirt – or tracksuit bottoms.’ Then they say to me, ‘Well, obviously, but what about my husband? Does he still find me attractive after all these years?’ to which my reply is always the same – ‘Of course not, dear – don’t be ridiculous.’

  The plain and simple truth is that, apart from a very select group including Madonna, Tina Turner and myself, women invariably lose their allure as they grow older. In desperation, some turn to cosmetic surgery but this can be risky – as I always say, a moment on the hips, a lifetime on the lips. If you’re determined to remain attractive to your partner, instead of this drastic course of action I would recommend you simply adopt a healthy diet and exercise regime. Below are a few of the plans I have created, especially with the slightly more middle-aged woman in mind.

  The 70s Plan

  Not designed for septuagenarians (well, not exclusively, anyway), this plan takes as its inspiration the golden age of flares and mirror balls, the 1970s.

  Typical daily food intake – Skinless Chicken in a Basket, Prawn Cocktail (in a small glass), Black Forest Gateau – one thin slice, half a packet of Spangles, one glass of Diet Blue Nun.

  Exercises – the Space-hopper, the Hustle and the Funky Gibbon.

  The Yo-yo Diet

  Typical daily food intake – anything you like, provided the amount varies wildly from day to day.

  Exercises – Walk the dog, loop the loop and that one where it seems to stop at the bottom of the string before it comes up again really fast.

  In addition, for the rhythmically-inclined, I have developed my own range of physically demanding Latin American-inspired dance classes – Spamba, Rhumbaba, Lampasanda and, especially for the elderly, my hugely successful Zomba classes.

  One of the hardest things about exercising is beating the boredom. Going to the gym can quickly become routine and the exercises repetitive as well as being embarrassing for those quite rightly struggling with their body image. Luckily, last year Stephen and I bought the kids a
Nintendo Puu (the games console you play sitting down) which is ideal for those wanting to shed a few pounds in the privacy of their own home. You can buy a variety of stimulating, calorie-burning games, including one designed especially for the beginner – Strenuous Puu, one for the intermediate exerciser – Really Strenuous Puu and one for the advanced – I Wouldn’t Go In There For A While, If I Were Yuu.

  FETISHES

  What is a fetish? I’m perfectly sure I have no idea, dear – you’d better ask Stephen. Whatever they are, they seem to involve a lot of rubber and marmalade. If, however, you’re not planning a visit to any of our local hostelries or bookmakers in the foreseeable future, here’s a little song I remember hearing on my wireless many years ago that might enlighten you…

  Birds do it, blokes do it,

  Even educated folks do it,

  Let’s do it,

  Let’s you-know-what.

  Masochists in their masks do it,

  Stalkers with their little tartan flasks do it

  Let’s do it,

  Let’s you-know-what.

  The mile-high club on long flights do it

  It’s every passenger’s dream

  Doggers flash their lights to do it

  It’s just a car-sharing scheme.

  Exhibitionists on a stand do it,

  Swingers with the Benny Goodman band do it,