Friday 30 March 2007

WAIT UNTIL THE MORNING


Millie gasped for breath ... she felt as if she had put into practice every bit of advice she had enjoyed from within the pages of Cosmopolitan over the years.


Marcus, drenched in sweat, finished ... he collapsed, spent and exhausted.


What a night, what an incredible night, thought Millie to herself.


For a start she couldn't believe that she was really with Marcus, he was rich, incredibly good looking, glamorous and absolutely incredible in bed.


What the hell was he doing with her.


Millie cuddled up to him and ran her hands over his chest ...'why me?' she whispered almost as much to herself as to her lover, 'why me Marcus, why me when you could have anyone ...?'


Marcus turned to face her, his chiselled looks making her heart flutter.


'... does there have to be a reason ... does there have to be any greater reason than I love you ...!'


Millie's eyes widened ... 'I love you?' where had that come from? He hadn't said that to her before ... unless of course you count the eleven times he had said it during their sex marathon .. but she'd heard that before from a couple of her previous amours a the point prior to 'explosion'.


'You love me...' he voice almost childlike trailed off.


'I love you Ms Marsters ... and I intend to tell you that many, many more times in the future.'


'I love you too Marcus ... oh, I really, REALLY love you too..'


He held her, 'that goodness for that, you had me worried', he kissed her ... 'one more time?'


'Oh yes...'


... and so they did, one more time and then they fell asleep ... the other thing Marcus had to tell Millie would have to wait ... yes, it could wait until the morning.

Thursday 29 March 2007

A WOMAN IN NEED


Millie rolled off Marcus and nuzzled up beside him ... they were both glowing with perspiration and glowing with post-coital pleasure.


'Cigarette?' Marcus sat up in the bed and leant over to the side table to get his packet of Silk Cut and gold lighter.


'No thanks', Millie replied, she'd smoke the occassional social cigarette but apart from that she was in the enviable position of being able to take it or leave it.


Marcus lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply before slowly releasing the smoke from his nose.


'Are you in London for a few days?' Millie asked, she'd met Marcus only a few hours before at Heathrow Airport, he'd arrived from L.A., promotional work was required for the UK release of his new movie, Giganimagic - a kids animations that had been breaking box office records stateside.


There back of limo passion, followed by a vigorous bedroom workout resulted in little conversation between them so far apart from, 'Do you like it there .... mmm that's good ... and harder, harder!'


'I'm here for a couple of days ...' Marcus continued to smoke whilst smiling over at Millie.


'Great', she replied, 'I really want your help about something ...'


'Shoot'


It was like a dam had burst, Millie told him about Amanda, about how worried she was ... she was scared for her friend and she didn't know what to do.


Marcus listened, his intellient eyes watching her as she spoke, his arms offering a comforting embrace when she had finished.


'Strange ... confusing and strange,' he said, 'but I'm here to help, let me make a few calls, find out some more about Trudie Hewitt, I have met her but I certainly don't know her.'


Millie smiled, pleased that her man was here, pleased that she had someone strong and masculine to help her.


As Marcus lit a second cigarette Millie slid down the bed, she might as well have something in her mouth too .......

Wednesday 28 March 2007

RING, RING ... I'VE GOT YOUR NUMBER


I eventually got home around eleven pm - Tomas had fallen asleep on the bed next to me and, leaving him in the ever watchful care of Marcel and Anthony I made my way back to my apartment next door.


I threw my bag and shoes onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to pour myself another large glass of wine, I'd had plenty already but what the hell!


Carrying the over-sized wine glass to the bedroom with me I gradually shed my clothes on the way leaving a fabric trail behind me.


I was down to my underwear, my Amanda, Oh! 'mystique' line when I heard my mobile phone ringing.


I went back to the living room and fished it from my handbag, collapsing into one of my leather armchairs before answering it.


'Amanda Gonzalez? Is that Amanda Gonzalez?' it was a mature female's voice with a strong Chinese accent.


'Who is this?' my reply was rather frosty, this was my personal mobile and only my nearest and dearest got to get the number.


'Ms Gonzalez, I am sorry to ring so late but I have been waiting for you to arrive home.'


WHAT! Arrive home? Was I speaking to a stalker?


'Look, who is this? Cassie if it's you putting on a Chinese accent I am so totally not amused!'


'My name is Madame Zhou,' came the reply, 'and I need to talk to you'.


'Listen Madame Zhou, or whatever your name is, it's late, I don't know how you got my number and I don't appreciate you calling me ... understand?


'Amanda, I hope you don't mind calling you that', he tone was soft and calming, 'I have been waiting a long time to speak to you, I have not relished the fact that one day I would have to interupt your life, but I am afraid that the time has come.'


I hung up.


God, there were some weird people out there, it was time to get a new number, I couldn't be doing with this.


Feeling a little shaken I downed my wine and went to get some more ... as I did the phone rang again.


I answered it, it was her...


'I am sorry to call again but it is important for us to meet.' her voice was measured, she spoke softly but clearly.


'Find someone else to bother, I'm turning this phone off.'


Before I could I heard her voice loud and clear.


'Amanda, I am worried for you. We must meet, you must see me ... if you don't I am very afraid that you may die ...'


I threw the phone against the wall, smashing it into little pieces.


Crazy bitch ... crazy f**king bitch.





Monday 26 March 2007

A NUN LIED TO ME!


Tomas and I settled back - the thought of watching a few hours of meaningless television seemed rather enticing right now.


'A bit like meaningless sex,' Tomas mused, 'takes your mind off everything for a while, reduces your stress levels ... and, if done right, can be a lot of fun too!'


As Tomas is more than aware both he and I are strong advocates of the odd bout of meaningless sex ... you know the sort, no strings, no ties, no emotional involvement ... hell, no names if need be.


So who's worse then? Men or liberated women? I poured Tomas another glass of bubbly as he spoke.


'About the same', I replied ... 'Tomas, you've got to remember, women enjoy sex just as much as men but we're just cleverer about it. For years it was always a given that men were more slutty than women ... but how could they be? Unless they were all doing it with each other ....'


'No there's a thought...' cut in Tomas.


'or with a couple of women who were extremely liberal? Oh no,for every little choo choo train there has to be a choo choo tunnel for it to speed in to!'


'Freud would have a field day with you, choo choo's and tunnels, Amanda, with the amount of choo choo's that you've had the pleasure of I thought that you would at least be able to call a spade a spade by now!'


'Or a dick a dick' I replied!


We were interupted by loud hootings and cheerings from the television - 'YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHO LIED TO ME' was hotting up.


The host was Bettina Goodberry, a former sexpert who now hosted her own show. Small, slavic and sporting a tight bun, Bettina had undergone several extensive face-lifts ... and God knows what else ... to end up resembling a condom stretched over a shrew's skull.


Bettina was about to welcome her next guest and the TV audience was fired up and ready to be entertained.


'Welcome to my next guest Andy ...'


A young, strappingly handsome man walked onto the stage and made his way to the little cluster of seats in the centre.


'Mmmm, Andy's a dish', Tomas murmered and the show played on.


'So Andy, tell us about yourself...'


Andy shifted in his seat and started to fill Bettina and the audience in on his background, a fairly quiet upbringing in rural California ... he seemed like a nice, well brought up lad ... his belief in the United States of America and in the loving presence of God always there to re-assure him and to look after him.


'My faith and everything was shattered when I was lied to ...' Andy was fighting to hold back the tears.


'I was a lad of seventeen and a good Christian lad at that,' he continued, the audience sympathising with his ever word. 'It all changed when she lied to me!'


'Who is she?' Bettina emphasised the word 'she' her expression showed that she was spoilng for a fight.


'She ... her ... I don't know what to call her ...' Andy's words trailed off.


Bettina pulled herself up to her full five feet nothing before shouting ...


'Bring on the liar! Bring on Sister Immaculata ... oh yes ladies and gents, this handsome respectable young man lost his way and his religion when this woman lied to him. This woman tricked him into bed and turned him into a male prosititute and porn actor...!'


'I'm so ashamed, I hope my Momma can forgive me ...' Andy wept.


'Bring her on', screamed Bettina .... 'bring on the Nun!'


'Yes', choked Andy, 'bring her on, I want my life back, I don't want to be in porn anymore, I don't want to sell my body for sex... bring her on and make her explain!'


'Bring her on! Bring her on!' chanted the crowd.


'Yes, my life ended that day', Andy wheezed, 'it ended the day a nun lied to me!


The crowd went ballistic and Tomas and I creased up in hysterical laughter

Saturday 24 March 2007

NAOMI, YOU ARE FABULOUS


I cried myself dry ...


Lying wrapped in Tomas' arms the tears rolled down my cheeks until there were no more to come. .


As he had said, once the tears had gone I did feel lighter, better ... more free, the burden I had hidden within had been lightened...


I unwrapped myself from his embrace and sat up, wiping the rapidly drying tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand.


Tomas smiled at me, 'How are you feeling?'


Much better, I replied, 'but then you knew that didn't you...'


'Darling, I should have been a therapist ...'


I got up and stretched my legs, enjoying the sensation of my body kick-starting back to life after it's inertia, feeling the blood flooding back to my extremities, enlivening and envigorating me.


'Glass of wine?' Tomas questioned


''Should you on your pain killers?' I replied.


'I'm Russian', he replied, 'we are baptised with vodka.'


He called for one of the nurses and Marcel appeared around the door.


'Marcel, darling, a bottle of the finest Chablis my fridge has to offer.'


'Are you sure?' the young man replied, 'I'm don't know whether you should with the Kapake painkillers you are on ...'


'Stop fussing', boomed Tomas, 'or there'll be no bedtime treats for you later!'


Marcel blushed a deep red.


'Now, go and get us some wine ... in fact forget the Chablis and bring a bottle of Pol Roger ... my beautiful friend has just experienced a rebirthing and it's time to celebrate!'


Half an hour later both of us were a little giddy, me on champagne, Tomas on champagne and pain killers.


We flipped through the satelitte stations.


'I love Naomi!' Tomas exlaimed on finding a new piece on Naomi Campbell 'Such a fabulous diva, last of her kind!'


'Extraordinarily beautiful too' I replied. I had met Naomi Campbell only once and had been completely bowled over by her breathtaking looks.


'Look, even when she has to do community service she does it in style..' Tomas laughed.


It appears that Naomi has had to do community service in New York after throwing her phone at her aide.


'Now she is one woman who could tempt me to turn straight!'


'What about me?' I replied.


'Not man enough for me darling ... he replied, you may be incredibly beautiful my little alley cat but you are also all soft and girly! Now Naomi she has a strong almost masculine presence ... I can just imagine those muscular legs wrapped over my back ...'


'Tomas, what do you think? Have the pain-killers and booze combined with Naomi's looks straightened you up?!'


'Never!' he shouted, 'I will have to make sure I re-assert my sexuality later, perhaps it will take both Marcel and Anthony at once to confirm my position as London's hottest gay guy!'


Giggling away we flipped over to a Jerry Springer style show.


'YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHO LIED TO ME' ran the headline across the bottom of the screen as an assortment of colourful individuals took to their chairs on the stage.


'This looks like fun', said Tomas.


And we nuzzled together, snug, warm and half cut laying back on the bed, ready to enjoy the show.....

Friday 23 March 2007

Ra Ra Rasputin


My head was spinning filled with images of; mutilated faces, sinister parcels and stiletto stabbed bodies in pools of blood ....


What was the link between me and media tycoon Trudie Hewitt?


Who was conspiring to tie us together by this bizarre set of events?


After my lunch with Cassie I caught a black cab home and went to check in on Tomas.


I was overjoyed to find him on top form, bitchy, funny and, above all, happy. His body may still be in recovery but his spirit remained intact.


I stood in the doorway and looked in on him. He was propped up by several downy pillows, his honed torso visible, he was wearing an expensive pair of black silk pyjama bottoms.


'Amanda my darling', he saw me out of the corner of his eye, 'I was just giving the boys a lesson on Russian history, Rasputin to be precise.'


Marcel and Anthony turned to smile at me, both returning to hear more about mad Russian monks who slept with Tsarinas and couldn't be killed ... it was the stuff of legend and Tomas used all of his story telling skills to excite and entertain.


'So, you may think that your Royal Family has it's secrets but the Windsors have nothing on their Russian cousins the Romanovs ... it took a lot more than a speeding car in a Parisian tunnel for them to get rid of their dirty laundry ...'


'Tomas, can I have a moment?'


He nodded and indicated for Marcel and Anthony to leave whcih they duly did, quickly standing up and exiting, both giving me a respectful nod as they passed.


'Got some other things to talk about I'm afraid', I sat on the edge of the bed and smiled, unable to stop the tears from welling in my eyes.


'Come here darling' he said, I leant towards him and was enveloped in his strong arms.


I couldn't help myself and tears started to run down my cheeks and onto his chest, dampening the dark hairs on it.


Sorry I'm being pathetic, I said as I pulled myself and sat up.


'Amanda, my little alley cat', he smiled as he called me by my pet name,'You've been though so much this past few years, what with Emmanuel's death, all of the nasty business with the Gonzalez family, especially that spawn of satan Justin ... and having to live with the fact that you are regular tabloid fodder. Yet,' he continued, 'during all this time i have never seen you cry, not once, not ever ..'


I looked at him, tears still running down my face ...


'It's time to let them out', he said and gently pulled me down so that I was lying on the bed beside him.


'It's time to le them out so you can empty yourself of the bad, of the past ... once you've done that you'll be clean and clear and ready to fight again.'


I snuggled against his strong body and closed my eyes ... he was right, let it all out ... there was so much hurt and pain in there ... it was time to let it go ... time to move on ....







Wednesday 21 March 2007

ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO ....


The young male entourage hurried behind her as she strode ahead ... it would not do to fall behind, to be seen as unable to keep up ... to miss an order from her.


The woman had newly arrived back from her offices in the Big Apple and was not in a good mood.


Standing behind her desk she threw the red top tabloid onto it, the headline 'Body Found in Bond Street', screamed from the top.


'Incompetance', she hissed ,'Why as I surrounded by such incompetance!' it was a statement, not a question.


Her legion of young men stood infront of her, their heads lowered, not daring to get eye contact with her. Some had seen her in this mood before, the others had just heard about it, the reality was every bit as scary as all the stories they had been told.


'Someone is going to pay for this', she said, the click of her fingers instructing one of her subordinates to rush around the table and light her cigarette for.


'But for now it's time to assemble my troops. You ....' she pointed at one of the men in front of her,' get me Justin Gonzalez, it's time for him to step up to the plate.


'You', she pointed to another of her team, 'Get me the editor of Dish it.'


The pair of them scuttled off to do as she had told them.


'Now then' she sat at her desk and opened the large drawer in front of her, 'who is it going to be this week?'


She pulled out a large file marked 'confidential' and flipped through it.


Inside was a celebrity filled Pandora's Box. Photographs of politicians accepting bribes, teenage hearthrobs engaged in gay sex, Hollywood Royalty laid in drug fuelled heaps ....


The woman ran her hand across the photographs before selecting two and laying them on the table before her.


'Now then handsome', she said whilst looking at a post workout photo of pop megastar Ben Truman, 'is it time to let all the little girls out there know that you really don't go for them but really love to indulge yourself in some serious for man on man action'


'Or', she looked down at a photograph of society 'it' girl Lucy Bessington, 'is it time to let your parents and the establishment of East Coast Old money into the little secret that their precious little angel is nothing more than a drug addled slut?'


For the first time that day a smile spread across her face as she contemplated her decision .....

Tuesday 20 March 2007

IS THAT A TRUNCHEON IN YOUR POCKET?


The body .... that was what Cassie and I decided to concentrate on ... the body.


'So what do we know about it?' Cassie finished her meal and sat back.


'Well', I replied, 'we know that it is female, we know that it is tall and athletic, we know that it was wearing black...'


'We also know that it was hideously mutilated', Cassie cut in, 'No facial features, no hands, no feet ... looks like whover killed her knew what they were doing. Unless DNA records exist or someone comes forward with a missing person then it's going to be a toughie to figure out who Ms X is.'


'So what do we do ...?'


'Got an ex in the Met' Cassie replied, 'gorgeous guy, great ... and I mean GREAT body however when it came down to it he was a little ... how do I put it ...? On the small side.'


'Oh ... I see what you mean,' I flashed a smile at her.


'Such a shame, it didn't even touch the sides, I think it was a by-product of way too many steroids pumping some muscles but shrinking others ... I told him to ditch them or ditch me, so he hit the gym and I hit the road ....'


'Men!'


'Well', Cass let the waiter pour her another glass, 'he still sends me texts, so I thought that he would be a good starting point, I know he's quite high in CID now. Perhaps if I suggest some meaningless, one off sex I could get the 911 on this one.....'


'Cass you are terrible, don't put out for me, that's asking way too much!'


'Hon', Cass replied 'I ain't gonna put out, no way, I'm just going to lead this horse to water but there's no way I'm gonna let him drink .... mind you it would be soooo tempting if only he was more like a horse'


'You mean ...?' I smiled


'Yep', she laughed, 'hung like one!'


'Now, onto Trudie', Cassie started to fish around in her bag as she spoke.


'Yes, what about Trudie ... is it her body? Surely, we must have got something wrong there ...?'


'Oh yes', replied Cassie finally pulling a print out from her bag.


She placed it on the table in front of me it was a fuzzy image of Trudie Hewitt.


'Same size, same clothes ... same bloody brooch'


I looked at the picture ... Cass was right.


'However', continued Cassie, 'not same body ... this picture of Ms Hewitt was taken in New York at the exact same time that Tomas was getting stabbed by a stiletto.'


'So is someone trying to frame her ....?'


'Yes', Cassie simply said, 'it appears that someone is trying to frame her trying to victimise you ... what the hell is that all about?'




Monday 19 March 2007

BALANS SOHO


Cassie and I met for lunch at Balans in Soho. A perfect place for a light mid-day meal. Airy, bright and full of eager, excitable young staff.


I needed to talk, to get my thoughts out into the open ... maybe by doing this I could start to piece the puzzle together ... maybe I could start to see some method in this vortex of madness.


Cass was there when I arrived ... as always she looked fit, well and overflowing with life. Before I even entered I could hear her deep, throaty chuckles flowing through the windows to the street outside. He laugh was one of those infectious ones, the type of laugh that makes you want to giggle along with it, maybe it was the the slight crude quality that it possessed ... whatever, I entered the restaurant with a smile on my face.


Ordering white wine by the glass and steamed fish we looked like a couple of Ladies who lunch, however our conversation was far from the usual sex and shopping.


'Crazy, crazy, horsewheel crazy shit this', Cassie said. 'I've seen some weird things in my time, dwarf drug runners, head gangters who carry teddies around with them for comfort and girls brainwashed by their pimps who sell them for a fix ... but somehow I can understand that ... strange I know ... but all of that seems to have a simple equation, a 2 plus 2 equals four sort of thing .... this doesn't. In fact this doesn't even come close.


I sat back and drank in her words as she spoke, not failing to notice the admiring glances she was receiving from our waiter as he enjoyed the view that her tight purple top was giving him of her firm breasts.


'Great pair of tits you've got there ...' I couldn't help myself but it had to be said. 'You really should model for me ...'


Cassie sat back and let out a sign of exasparation, 'Thanks for your interest Mand', she said. 'I'm here to try and help you, not to talk about my puppies ...'


'Sorry', I smiled and sipped at my wine ... 'but sometimes I can be just like Helen ... all work, work, work!'


Cassie made a rasping noise at me and let out one of her signature chuckles. 'Well, I do take it as a compliment, you have dressed some of the best tits on the world after all. However, I ain't putting these babies on show for anyone, unless of course I lose 100 points on my I.Q. and become vain, shallow and self obsessed ... maybe then.'


'Miaow!' I replied, 'that's a little unfair, you really shouldn't stereotype models you know, some can walk AND chew gum at the same time ...and' I hastened to add, ' my boyfriend is a model!'


'Boyfriend, eh?' said Cassie ... 'that's a new one for Amanda Gonzalez isn't it?'


She was right ... boyfriend ...? That had crept up on me without my noticing.


'Mind you', she continued, 'wouldn't mind helping you to talent scout the fellas ... excuse me sir would you mind unzipping your pants and getting out your tool, just need to check that it's big enough to fill my undies ... many women would die for a job like that.'


Cassie's phrase took the smile from my face ... 'Cass I don't want it to be me dying whilst doing a job like this?' I fought back my emotions, I didn't want to cry in public.


'Honey', Cassie squeezed my arm across the table, 'with me around that ain't going to happen. I'm one mean kickass bitch and if there's any dying to be done then it's going be whoever's doing this to you ... comprendez?'


'Comprendez'. I smiled.


'Now, let's see if we can figure out what the f**ks going on'.

Sunday 18 March 2007

MADAME ZHOU


The Old Lady stood and stretched, it had been a long time since she had enjoyed the easy suppleness that comes with being young.


Her face was a myriad of lines, reflective of a long and full life.


She spoke to herself in her native tongue, Mandarin .... 'it won't be long now'.


Madame Zhou was a highly regarded and respected figure within the London Chinese community. She had arrived in the capital as a little girl, her family leaving Shanghai for a 'better' life in England.


That had been nearly ninety years ago and Madame Zhou felt an increasing desire to return to her homeland, to the country of her roots. She dreamed of the misty hills and the spirituality of China.


She had only been a little girl when her Mother realised that, like her Mother before her, her daughter had inherited 'the gift'.


It was 'the gift' that guided Madame Zhou, it was 'the gift' that had kept her in China Town in the centre of London.


Twenty five years ago she had seen new and very powerful signs, a baby girl was born who would be instrumental in a battle between the forces of dark and light, night and day, good and evil. This little baby would grow to be a woman who's role, whos destiny would affect many others. If she accepted her place, her fate then she may be able to prevent a great force of evil that was building and the inevitable death of many innocents.


In her dream talks with the 'elders' they warned and advised her of the dark forces that where at work and how she could mentor the chosen one, Amanda.


She sat back down and looked at the scattered stones on the table top .... some bright, some dull ... to the untrained eye they meant nothing, to Madame Zhou they spoke volumes.


The killing was starting already ... it was time to let the girl, now a woman, know her destiny.


Madame Zhou rubbed the small of her back and sat down again, it was time to speak to the Elders again.


She did take some comfort in this for she knew that before the first battle was over she would be with them .......

Saturday 17 March 2007

DESKTOP TOYS


The manicured hand lifted the paper weight from the top of the expensive walnut desktop and lifted it high in the air.


'This is not good enough, not f**king good enough!'


The paper weight, an expensive Waterford crystal sculpture, was hurled at the desk top monitor, it's sleek flat screen shattering into a thousand pieces as the beautiful piece of glassware hit it at high speed.


The young man stood in front of the desk, he stared at the floor, if he didn't catch her eye then perhaps she may decide not to make his head her next target.


The woman slammed her hand back down onto the desk and exhaled loudly ... ( a good sign, maybe? he thought to himself) ... the monitor and paperweight may have temporarily curtailed her rage.


'Cigarette!' ... she didn't have to say anything more.


He grabbed one of the long Turkish smokes, that she had specially flown in every week, from the desktop cigarette box (another possible missile ...?) his fumbling hands placing it into the long, solid gold cigarette holder next to it.


He made his way around her desk and placed it in her mouth before lighting it with his own Zippo lighter.


The woman inhaled deeply, held the smoke in her lungs for a few moments before exhaling into his face.


'This is all becoming a bit of a mess', she hissed before taking another draw on the cigarette, '... and I don't like things to become messy.'


Out of the blue her hand shot out and hit the man across the face sending him stumbling backwards, the large diamond solitaire on her finger slicing into his cheek and creating a thin, but rapidly, widening red line.


'I need to get this back on track and fast', her words where calm and measured.


The young man regained his balance and stood to attention a steady flow of blood now flowing down his cheek.


The woman stubbed her cigarette into the desktop ashtray before looking at him.


On seeing the blood she smiled and made her way over to him.


'Makes you more rugged ...' she leant to him before flicking out her tongue and licking the blood from his face. The young man tried his hardest not to shiver ... any sign of weakness was not a good thing.


The woman grabbed his tie and pulled him to the desk, she pushed everything out of the way before sitting back on it and grabbing him around the waist with her long, powerful legs.


'Now let's see if you can do this right ....'


The young man had no choice but to perform his duty .....


Friday 16 March 2007

BODY ON BOND STREET


Wanting to keep Tomas under my watchful eye whilst he made his way back to full strength I had taken the liberty of renting the vacant apartment next to my own and had moved his valuables into it whilst he was in hospital.

It was bright, breezy and open plan - very easy to live in.

'Darling you really shouldn't have ...' Tomas smiled as he laid down on the bed and waited whilst I plumped his pillow. 'I can get extremely used to all this luxury.'


'Hon, it's not as if you live the life of a street bum as it is,' I replied. 'You don't often go without dining out seven nights a week, dressing in the finest that Saville Row has to offer and spoiling your boyfriends rotten if it suits you...'


'Darling, I like my boyfriends to spoil ME rotten ...' he smiled and laid back on the bed.


I turned on the large plasma screen and handed him the controls before speaking ...


'Oh Tomas, there is one more thing....'


'Hmmm?' he was half listening as he flicked through the channels before stopping on 'My Grandmother Stole My Boyfriend!'


'I've arrange a little 24-7 supervision for you ....'


With that I went to the door and called in the two nurses I had personally approved to care for Tomas from a very expensive 'nursing' agency.


Marcel and Anthony entered, tall, handsome, young and fit .....


'Just what the doctor ordered...' Tomas winked at me and turned off the TV ... 'Now then boys ...' I left him speaking to them ...'Are you any good at bedbaths...?'


Grabbing a taxi on the street below I made my way back to Picadilly, I needed to do some work. The launch of the swimwear lines was imminent and with Tomas out of action I would have to organise the whole event myself.


From the outside Amanda, Oh! was back to normal and the hustle and bustle of life on New Bond Street was the same as always. Fast, fabulous, chic, expensive and botoxed to within an inch of it's life.


I breezed in and cheerily exchanged greetings with my team before answering their questions on Tomas, like me they all loved him.


Once in my office I fired up my computer certain that I would have several hundred unattended emails.


I was about to access my inbox when my on-line google news flashed 'Breaking Story'.


A force of habit made me absent mindedly click onto it:


'BODY OF YOUNG WOMAN FOUND IN BOND STREET BIN'


I clicked onto it, what was this?


'The body of a tall, young, woman dressed in an expensive black suit was discovered by street cleaners at the back of New Bond Street, one of London's most expensive shopping addresses. New Bond Street, in the heart of Central London, is more used to catering for Billionaires than bodies.


The woman, identity unknown, had suffering appalling injuries.


Her facial features had been disfigured past any recognition and the surgical removal of her hands, feet and teeth will make identification of the body very difficult.


I sat back, wide eyed and stared at the screen ... this description fitted the build and dress of the woman who stabbed Tomas.


Was this woman Trudie Hewitt?


I sat back and thought hard .... the woman can't have been Trudie, if she had gone missing and had been murdered it would be global headlines by now ....


But if she was the woman who had broken into Amanda,Oh! what the hell had she wanted and, more importantly;


'What sort of sick bastard killed her ....?


Thursday 15 March 2007

...A GOOD NURSE




Morning couldn't come around fast enough.




After my disturbing dream I was overjoyed to see the dawning of a new day, giving me a chance to push my dream memories to the back of my mind.




Outside was beautiful, fresh and mild .... clear blue skies presided over a crisp Spring morning.




I luxuriated in a hot, hot shower ... soaping myself clean, washing away the images of severed heads and vacant eyesockets ...




By nine o clock I was waiting for Tomas to say his thank yous and goodbyes to the fabulous medical team who had worked so hard to restore his health.




My limo was waiting outside the drab, concrete slab that constituted the hospital and I couldn't wait to help Tomas into the back and see the depressing place disappear into the scenery as we pulled away.




'Jesus, it makes you feel ill just looking at it, how on earth do they expect people to work, let alone get better in there!' Tomas smiled at me as I spoke.




'Now are you sure you are OK to come out ... you do feel up to it?'




'Darling, I was more than happy to come out years ago ... and as for being 'up to it' well you know me!' He chuckled as he finished.




'I just want the best for you', I replied, 'there are some great private hospitals in London, just say the word and I'll check you into whichever you want.'




'The NHS is more than adequate for me', he looked serious, 'being Russian I appreciate a bit of state sponsored health care. However, I do have one complaint ...'




'What's that', I inwardly cursed, I knew he should have gone private.




'The nurses', he cried, 'young, gorgeous, lovely but FEMALE!'a look of mock horror on his face.




'Where are all the young Florian Nightingales when you need them, I was really hoping for one or two of them to be on hand to change my sheets and administer some thorough nocturnal bed baths!'




I gave him a playful slap on his thigh.




'If that's all it takes to get you back to fighting strength then leave it to me' I replied.




'I'm feeling better already' Tomas said and settled back into the leather seat as the limo purred it's way through the London streets, taking us home.

Wednesday 14 March 2007

IT'S ACTION TIME


A few emotional tear filled hours passed as we planned a course of action. It was nearly midnight before I bid the girls goodnight and settled down on my own to review the events of the evening.


Cassie was all fired up and ready for action. There was nothing my feisty friend liked more than being able to get her teeth into a bizarre mystery that involved money, power and the establishment.


Although she would have much preferred that I was not at the epicentre of this storm she was a professional through and through and would put all she had learnt and knew into practice to help me.


'Don't worry Mand' she said as she left, 'by the time I'm finished it'll be hospital bedtime for this bitch!'


Helen, rational, logical ... our voice of reason ... was more measured. 'I will not allow this woman, or anyone else to take this any further', she squeezed my arm as she spoke, 'I will do everything I can to enure that you get justice for this.'


Millie, emotional and loving simply grabbed me and hugged me, 'I'm here for you hon', she said, 'whenever, wherever ... just call me.'


'I know Mills', I replied, 'I know ...'


We had talked plans and courses of action based on the events so far;


The break in at Amanda, Oh!

The mutilated picture of me.

Animatokool

The stabbing of Tomas

The sick parcel showing the faked picture of Nico .....
Diebitchdiebitchdiebitch
Samson and Delilah


The best place to start was with the facts ... can we be sure this person is Trudie Hewitt? The evidence certainly points this way but can we trust it?

Why would anyone want to target me in this way?

Is there anyone I have upset in the past that would hate me enough to do this?


I laid down on the sofa and allowed my thoughts to run free ... one silver lining to this cloud sliding into my consciousness, Tomas was being discharged from hospital into my care tomorrow and I was going to get him.


I finally drifted to sleep only to awake screaming from a nightmare... I had opened my fridge door to find the severed heads of Nico and Tomas inside, their mouths black gaping holes, their eyes gouged from their sockets ........


Monday 12 March 2007

TRUDIE HEWITT .... porque?


TRUDIE HEWITT??!!


Why?


I gulped down my wine and stared at Cassie, my eyes wide and incredulous.


'Why on earth would someone like Trudie Hewitt be interested in me? Why, for God's sake would she be breaking into my store? What the f**k ... this is not what I want to hear!'


Millie came over to me and put her arms around me and held me tight.


'Maybe there's some mistake' she murmered like a mother to a child, 'maybe it's someone pretending to be her.'


'Let's hope so', said Cassie, ever the diplomat, 'this is some mean, powerful bitch, we really don't want to mess with her unless we really have to.'


'I don't want to mess with her', I said kissing Millie before standing up and going over to pour myself another glass of wine (if ever I NEEDED a drink, it was right now). 'This has nothing to do with me.'


'Evidently it does', Helen looked serious and spoke sense, ' for some reason she's got some sort of axe to grind, we'd better find out what ... and soon.'


Trudie Hewitt, I thought to myself. Rich beyond comprehension, mistress of a global publishing empire and rumoured to be involved in everything from South American drug running to arms trading. Tall, athletic and chain smoking her way around the globe, Trudie had control of the spotlight and could make or break you just for the hell of it.


She had never been particularily interested in me before, although I was a regular on the cover of her trash 'em mag 'Dish it!', but I sort of took that as par for the course when you have a reputation like mine.


I just couldn't get my head around it ... Trudie Hewitt ... what the f**k did she want with me ...?

Sunday 11 March 2007

WHITE WINE AND RED HEAT


Cassie refilled our glasses as we all sat deep in thought.


'Surely the police will be able to find all of this out for themselves ...' mused Millie.


'Never', replied Helen, 'as Cassie said this stuff is totally confidential. No designer would compromise a client, especially a rich or famous one, and as Cassie is stringing this out so well I am assuming that this person is one or the other, or both ...'


Cassie raised an eyebrow, smiled, but said nothing.


'No, you've got to remember that this is the fashion industry and like any other international, billion dollar business there isn't such a thing as morals or ethics, just money. It's a good job Cass got in there so quickly, I'm sure that all remaining evidence will be well gone by now.' Helen continued.


'Just like Hollywood Madams', I chipped in, 'Heidi Fleiss fo example, nothing to gain by giving up her famous client list. You get far more power and money by keeping your mouth shut about these things.'


'So' interuppted Cassie 'A ruby brooch with the initials RH ... any ideas anyone?'


'A name, a person?' Said Millie.


We chucked around a few names of people with these initials but didn't come up with anyone of interest.


Deciding we'd waited long enough Cassie fished in her bag again before bringing out another piece of very expensive looking paper. She unfolded it and held it up for us all to see.


In the top right hand corner was the exact same initials printed in red ... 'RED HEAT PUBLISHING' in an elegant typeface was written below.


'Trudie Hewitt?' Helen was the first to speak.


'Trudie Hewitt .... yes' came Cassie's reply, her voice low and serious as she spoke .....

Saturday 10 March 2007

TWO LEADS, ONE NAME


Cassie made us all relax, sit down and pour ourselves a large glass of wine before she continued.


'You're such a drama queen...' exclaimed Helen whilst doing as Cassie instructed, 'I think you're really editor material at heart'.


Cassie flinched at this, since they'd been cub reporters together Cassie and Helen had always bitched with each other about how their career paths had developed.


Cassie was proud of the fact that she still got her hands dirty out there in the field, nosing out a good story and quite often putting her personal safety at risk. Helen, on the other hand, was the editor in chief of the country's most pretigious fashion bible.


Once Cass had us all in place she perched herself on the table in front of us and began.


'The shoe, as I said at the time to Amanda, the shoe is a good place to start. I knew that it was a genuine Timmy Wang and there ain't too many of those around.'


'Aaah, this is where I come in ...' Helen interjected.


Cassie rolled her eyes before continuing .... 'yes', she replied, 'Helen you certainly did. Now we all know that Timmy Wang only supplies shoes to the incredibly rich, incredibly beautiful or incredibly famous, to get hold of their client list is harder than finding out how much the Nazi's managed to stash away in Swiss banks after the second world war.'


'So, with a little help from Helen', - 'I have some great frends at Timmy's' purred Helen - 'I was able to get an appointment to see one of his senior design team, I made out that I was doing a feature on Wang's for Rapping Royalty ... the way that lot, especially the Yanks, throw away their cash is guaranteed to have any designer, no matter how exclusive moistening their pants with excitement!'


'Lovely description', Helen looked away and sipped at her drink.


'Anyway, I met this gorgeous young guy, early twenties, tall, black and South African. I could see that he was a little wet behind the ears and by the way he couldn't keep his eyes off my chest, very horny!'


'Got his number ...?' I couldn't help myself ...


Cassie smiled, 'Sure! Well, after a little flirting I got him so heated that he had to pop off to the gents to get himself off ... I mean cool down! Whilst he was away I got to work and as luck would have it there at the top of a pile of orders was a photograph of the shoe and a request for a repeat order.'


'In fact, with lover boy still away I took the opportunity of slipping it into my bag.'


With that Cass delved into her bag and pulled out the order form.


There at the top was a photograph of an exact same shoe that I had last seen embedded in Tomas' chest.


Underneath typed in capitals, UNIQUE DESIGN FOR THIS CLIENT ONLY.


'Want to see who the client is ...?' Cassie toyed with us.


'Yes,' shouted Helen as she leant across and tried to grab the paper from Cass.


'Well, you'll have to wait a bit longer ...' Cassie grinned as she folded the paper and put in back into her bag.


'Let's talk about the red brooch first ....'

Friday 9 March 2007

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH


Enough is enough ... something has to be done.


Another session with a sympathetic police team and I felt I was getting nowhere with them. I came away with the feeling of 'lights on but nobody home'.


They'd written this off as a celebrity stalker and probably felt that a rich, spoilt bitch like me was getting all that I deserved.


Thank God that Tomas was doing incredibly well, someone was answering my prayers, and that was one major relief for me.


Nico? Now this is sick.


After I had seen the picture and the lock of hair that had been sent to me Cassie and I had frantically called the Milanese hotel he was staying in and his mobile, desparate to get in touch, to see if he was OK, if he was still alive .... I went cold at the thought ...


After several attempts my phone rang, it was Nico.


'What's up babe?' his voice was deep and calm as always, 'you sound like you've seen the devil!'


'Maybe I have..' I replied.
Nico was fine! Thank God for that, Nico was fine! the picture was fake, this was some sick bastard ....


I explained all to Nico who was shocked, 'Do you want me to come back to London? I'm booked for another few days but I'll cancel it, no problem?'


It was nice of him to offer but although I could probably do with some mind-blowing sex with him to take my mind off this I needed to stay focused.


I arranged for Cass, Millie and Helen to meet up with me at my apartment later.


Millie arrived, frazzled yet focused. Her large brown eyes welled with tears as she hugged me, 'Amanda, what a nightmare, I've been so worried'.


Helen was next, she breezed in, chic beautiful and manicured to within an inch of her life. 'We'll get this bastard Amanda, she's not going to get away with this....'


Last was Cassie, cool and savvy, she chucked her biker jacket onto the sofa before greeting us all.


'Got some news', she said as well all looked at her. Two leads and one name.'


Cassie knows how to make an entrance ..... that's for sure.


Thursday 8 March 2007

SAMSON AND DELILAH


The Police came and went ... very polite, very caring but I could see in their eyes that they had already mentally written this off as the work of an obsessed fan.


I took a long, hot shower, allowing the heated jets of water to massage my shoulders, arms and head.


Feeling lot better I dried myself, dressed and made my way to the hospital to see how Tomas was.


After half an hour with him I emerged from the dull concrete slab of a building feeling much better. Tomas, fit and strong, was making an incredible recovery and was already sitting up in bed.


'I'll be back to work before you know it', he insisted as I kissed him goodbye.


'No way fella', I replied, 'you ain't coming back until your 100% fit and ready'.


Cassie was waiting for me, resplendent in tight fitting leather on her Harley. She passed me a helmet as I climbed on behind her.


I put my arms around her waist and she pulled away from the hospital and we roared off, into town, to Amanda, Oh!


The building was locked up, as we had left it, and Cassie and I tore off the remains of the Police Tape and made our way inside.


All looked normal, the mutilated photograph of me that had been adhered to the mirrors had been removed as evidence, all that remained was for the cleaning staff to come and give the place a good old spruce up.


We made our way up to the office, whatever the woman wanted must have been in there.


Cass and I combed the room looking for clues, was anything missing? was anything different?


We were about to give up and call it a day (I have a huge fashion show to organise for the launch of my new swimwear line), when something caught my eye.


It was the glint of light on something red on the floor. I bent and picked it up. It was a brooch, fashioned out of rubies into the letters RH.


RH? Initials for someone's name? Asked Cassie.


'Not sure' I replied, but I knew this item hadn't been in my office before and certainly didn't belong here.


With that there was a tap on the office door, Cassie and I span around to see Monique one of the store sales team.


'Sorry to interupt Amanda', she muttered, 'I've just arrived, wanted to see if there was anything I could do ... a courier gave me this...'


She handed me a small cardboard package.


I tore it open as Cassie looked on.


Inside was an envelope with my name typed on the front. I opened it and emptied the contents onto the table.


Out fell a lock of hair and a folded piece of paper.


I opened the paper and stared in horror.


There was a picture of Nico, his beautiful face beaten to a pulp, his eyes closed.


'Delilah cut Samson's hair ... bad move.

This is your fault bitch, remember that'


I dropped the letter to the table, my head fell down to my hands and I started to sob uncontrollably.





Wednesday 7 March 2007

IF THE SHOE FITS ....

I had a restless night ... all I could think about was Tomas and seeing him lying there in that expanding pool of blood. Thank God that he was going to be alright!



Who was the woman? What was she doing? What the hell was going on ...?



I thought back to what had happened and ran over the events again and again ... I was missing something I was sure ... there was something about the woman ... was there something about her that I recognised?



What was it about her?


I got up and after making a cup of tea sat myself at my computer and opened my in-box. There were several notes from Nico, he was coming back tomorrow ... I opened up the picture he'd sent me of himself and set it as my screensaver.




Cassie had sent me an email too;



Amanda, it's the shoe. Let me concentrate on that. I'll speak to Helen about it. Just tell me all you remember about it as the police have got it as evidence.



The shoe ... of course, thinking about it I did recognise it. It was beautifully sculptured, a high heel and soft ostrich skin dyed red. It was a Timmy Wang!



I hastily emailed this info back to Cass ... all Timmy Wangs were hideously expensive and from limited ranges, in fact most were made to order by private customers. This was a real break and I knew Cassie could do something with it.



I sat back and stared at the computer screen ... since the death of my husband and the subsequent media frenzy I knew that there were people out there that hated me .... there were whole websites dedicated to what a gold digging slut I was. But, this was the first time that something like happened and it did send a chill through me.



'ping' I had new mail .... from Animotkool!



Hesitantly I opened it ....



I was confronted by an image of myself, eyes gouged out, the mouth animated into a hideous, juddering, clown like sneer 'Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! a crazed laughing noise screamed out from the computer speakers.


My eyes dropped to what was written below.
Underneath the grotesque image, repeated thousands of times it simply said; 'diebitchdiebitchdiebitchdiebitchdiebitchdiebitch.......'

Tuesday 6 March 2007

ANIMOTKOOL


It started out like any other day.


A dull and wet Monday morning in London, yet I felt great.


Here I am twenty five years old and ready to take on the world.


I left my apartment and grabbed a taxi into Knightsbridge to meet up with my business assistant Tomas for coffee and cigarettes before we headed into work together.


Tomas was there when I arrived, dark, handsome and Russian he had settled himself at one of the outside tables and already had two steaming cups of coffee in front of him.


Giving him a kiss on both cheeks I settled down and the two of us smoked, drank and bitched our way through our weekends and a host of Z-List celebrities that happened to fall victim to our waspish sense of humour.


I love Tomas, after Millie, Helen and Cassie he ranks as my best friend and confidante ... if only he was heterosexual he would be perfect!


As it was only nine thirty when we arrived at my Amanda, Oh! flagship store on New Bond Street it was still closed up and Tomas took out his keys to let us in.


'That's funny the alarms not on, those boys on the night shift, if they could just keep their hands off each other and on the job in hand !' Tomas muttered as much to himself than as to me as we entered.


With that we heard the sound of glass smashing on the second level mezzanine floor ... Tomas and I looked at each other before racing for the stairs. Now, although I'm pretty fit I couldn't keep up with the six foot two frame of Tomas and he strided ahead of me.


We reached the top of the stairs and to my surprise I could see the back of a tall woman, dressed in black opening the door to my office through the broken, smoked glass window that she had apparently just broken to gain entry.


Seconds after she entered Tomas reached the door and wrenched it open before running in himself. Before I could get there the door slammed shut and I grabbed at the handle frantically turning it in my hand to try and gain entry myself.


For some reason it seemed to jam, only giving and swinging open when I leant back and kicked it three, four, five times with my knee length leather boots.


Once in I could see Tomas lying on the floor, a red stiletto heel was embedded into his chest, a pool of blood was spreading around him on the floor.


The window at the rear of the office was open to the fire escape, it appears that our intruder had already escaped through here.


I grabbed the phone off my desk and called an ambulance before sitting down on the floor beside Tomas and stroking his hair.


'It's going to be alright' I said, 'It's going to be alright...'


Within minutes the store was filled with paramedics and police, noise, motion and light.


'I think he's going to be OK', said one of the paramedics as they wheeled Tomas out, 'he's a lucky fella, if you hadn't been with him it would have been fatal'.


I went with Tomas to the hospital and spent most of the day there, drinking copious amounts of vending machine coffee and jumping to my feet every time a nurse or doctor passed, hoping for news.


Millie and Cassie arrived around lunchtime and I needed to have them with me more than ever. I couldn't loose Tomas, not after Emmanuel ... what was I going to do?


Fortunately by mid-afternoon my wait came to an end, a young Asian doctor gave me the news I had been praying for ... although Tomas had lost a lot of blood the heel of the shoe had missed his heart by inches ... all he needed was some rest and he would be OK.


I felt my knees buckle, but held back the tears ... the paparazzi were already here, I couldn't let them see me in a moment of weakness.


After seeing Tomas and showering him with kisses, I called my driver and the girls and I left the hospital through the laundry department at the back.


'I think we should go to Amanda, Oh!', Cassie said to me, 'there's something you should see.'


Once there we made our way through the Police guards and tape and into the main store. I hadn't seen it earlier, too distracted by finding out who had broken in.


On the glass floor to ceiling mirrors at the rear was a picture of me stuck to them... my eyes had been gouged out leaving black holes and across my body the word ANIMOTKOOL was scrawled in red.


'What does it mean ... what's going on ... ?


'Come on', said Millie, 'Let's get you home', she lead me out to my car.


'Don't worry', said Cassie, 'I'll find out who did this ... I promise.'


Monday 5 March 2007

BACK FOR GOOD


It's official - my life is now totally topsy-turvy!


I went out and partied all last week whilst at work and now I have enjoyed the quietest ever weekend ... and enjoyed it!


A rainy and horrible Sunday morning saw me curled up in my tracksuit on my leather settee nursing a cup of hot chocolate, flipping through the Sunday Times and the Mail on Sunday and watching religious programme fronted by Gloria Hunniford.


It was like being wrapped up in my own little coccoon and after I went and retrieved my duvet from the bedroom it probably looked like it too.


Via the fabulous medium of text messages the girls and I all agreed to meet up at Browns in Covent Garden for some traditional Sunday Fare.


As usual they were all there when I arrived, Helen says that I live in 'AMANDA TIME' that sort of runs half an hour behind normal time. To be honest I can't really describe why I always seem to run late, I think if I analyse it it could be to do with the fact that I always under-estimate how long it takes to get where I am going!


'... a white wedding dress! God, after all the men she's had I would have thought that wholly inappropriate!'


Helen was still bitching about Liz Hurley ... this isn't healthy, I think that Helen needs to go and get herself a man and de-stress somewhat.


Cassie, not one to let sleeping dogs lie, goaded Helen about it, 'I am soooo surprised you didn't get an invite Helen, you've done so much for her, a bit of reciprocity would have been the least she could have done to thank you ... I mean I assume that you must at least have been sent an invite to the Indian Wedding, there's about 500 going to that isn't there? Everyone has been invited ...'


Helen flushed ... she looked like she was going to explode.


Come on girls ... let's get a bottle of something dry, white and very cold and chill out shall we?


After we'd eated ... and drunk a way through half a dozen bottles of something dry, white and very cold I invited the three of them back to my place for a Sunday afternoon 'pajama party'.


I sorted them all out with sexy, silk pj's and we lounged around, chatted and bitched together.


Millie had the new Take That CD and we played it on full volume and danced around, all of us, bar Cassie, admitted to being huge fans when we were younger. I've got to say that I am really pleased that they are back at the top of the charts, where they belong.


We all took turns in trying to convince Helen that she should find herself a good fella - if only to itch her scratch, but Helen wasn't having any of it.


'Nobody wants me .... I think that I scare men off. Too bossy and intelligent like for most of them ...' she slurred into her glass.


'Crap', replied Cassie, 'you can't see the wood for the trees, every time you go out there's always gorgeous fellas fliting with you. If you just took your business hat off for a minute you'd see it for yourself. As it is that P.A. of yours, Chantelle, gets plenty of action from it. You get them all hot and bothered and she gets to reap the rewards. Wake up and smell the coffee!'


'No one likes me', Helen poured another large glass for herself, ' not even Liz Hurley and everyone is going to her second wedding in India ...'


Here we go again!


Sunday 4 March 2007

LIZ GETS TAKEN UP THE AISLE


'Where's my invitation ... that's what I want to know', Helen called round to see me this morning not best pleased that she didn't receive an invite to this week's weeking of the year, namely that of Mr. and Mrs. Liz Hurley.


'That's the last time she's covering Chic', Helen continued as she busied herself around my kitchen making coffee and cutting up a cheesecake that she had brought with her.


A lazy day all round. Helen and I popped into Covent Garden and browsed around the stalls, there was a great Tenor busking and we stopped and listened to him for a while.


Following a light lunch at Hamburger Nation we went to be pampered at the Soho House Hotel.


'Bet Liz Hurley will be stuffing her botoxed face with Wedding cake by now' .... Helen can't let this one go, 'She's starved herself for weeks to get into that Versace number, a size 14 hiding under the surface with that one!'


Helen came back and we shared a bottle of wine and a tub of Hagen Dazs cookies and cream.


Helen found an old copy of Hello and saw Liz on the cover, 'Very good cosmetic work, you can barely tell'.


For goodness sake Helen give it a break!

Saturday 3 March 2007

SNAKES ON A PLANE?


Left the Ritz early this morning - Hans was sleeping like a baby - I seem to have this effect on men.


Rather tired but a spring in my step as I wandered down to the Pret to meet with Tomas for coffee and cigarettes.


'Go on ... tell all' Tomas was almost drooling with excitment at the prospect of finding out all about just how big Hans really was. 'There's one thing having the equipment but can he use it honey?'


Of course I had no option but to tell Tomas every salacious detail and he drank it all in, quizzing me about every single detail and every single way that Hans had used his weapon of mass impregnation on me!


'God, I've got to get me some of that', Tomas exclaimed as we made our way to New Bond Street.


When I switched on my computer there was a message from Nico and a naked picture of him attached. I felt a little stirring of guilt but I can honestly say that hans was just lust, been there and done that ... although I do like to stay friendly with the men in my life.


I wrote a quick email back to Nico before getting on with working my way through the mound of paperwork on my desk.


Tomas nipped in with sandwiches for lunch and stayed and gossipped with me whilst we ate them.


He's not a huge fan of Charlotte Church, 'What a stupid little bitch she is! Only 21 and pregnant, great role model for all the young unmarried girls out there, most of which don't have millions of pounds to fall back on. It's a bit different being a young, single mum on a sink estate.'


I've always quite liked Charlotte but I do find myself agreeing with him on this one.


Mills popped in with a bottle of French white, a Japanese take away and the dvd of Snakes on a Plane - after the week I've had I am in need of a few quiet days, weekend or not!


'Though you'd like to see some other huge snakes, see if they compare to last night!' said Millie as she settled down on the sofa with me.


After watching the film - totally rubbish by the way, had the sound down and chatted with Millie throughout the second half - I can assure you that Hans is more impressive that any of them!

Friday 2 March 2007

HANS ALL OVER!


Very excited this morning, and it's all thanks to you!


Logged on to write my blog as normal and saw several comments posted - people are actually reading it - how wild is that!


As you know I was up to a bit of horseplay with Nico in the bedroom last night - now although I thoroughly enjoyed it - and I'm pretty sure that Nico did too judging by the fact that he slept like a log and it took me longer than normal to 'rouse' him this morning - I am starting to have a few niggling doubts as to where our relationship is going.


Cass is back from Paris today and she has tickets to see Sins of Angels at the Live Lounge in Hammersmith. As she can only take Millie and I, I thought it best not to mention it to Nico - don't want him getting all jealous again about me being in the same room as Hans and his industrial sized member! (Must see if I can get one of the 'Hans On' adult toys for myself).


Having said that, Nico and I don't have an exclusive relationship so if the situation arises (in every sense of the word) maybe I'll take the opportunity to check out the real thing for myself!


I know it probably sounds a little mean of me - Nico is a fabulous guy, really funny, fabulous body and prepared to do anything to please me in bed - but I do start to feel claustrophobic once I find myself in a situation whereby things are getting a little serious. Maybe this all has to do with me coming to terms with the death of Emmanuel ... I just don't know. He's even had his hair cropped for his latest 'look' - although I liked his surfer locks I do like this look too ... very hot!


Oh Emmanuel ... It is really difficult when you have found what you consider to your ideal mate, a person who you couldn't believe it was possible to love any more than you do .. and yet you find your love growing every day ... please don't be sick but just trying to describe why I am how I am ... yet I did find that person in Emmanuel.


Because of all the money, on-going legal battles with Justin and the rest of my viperous out-laws and that Emmanuel died whilst making love to me ... it seems that my life moves with the speed and force of a hurricane and although it can cause chaos maybe I am afraid that if I let it slow down I will have to face the wreckage and maybe I just not up to that yet ...


Nico called me at work to tell me that he had a shoot in Milan and was flying out this afternoon ... the job had just come up this morning so he hadn't been able to let me know earlier. Felt a bit guilty but I must say that I was relieved ... that's him out the way then ... the thought of that huge piece of eastern European action that Hans keep down his pants seems to be getting more interesting by the minute!


How bizarre is this ... I was almost giddy with excitement when I met up with Cass and Mills for the show ... acting like a little girl who can't wait to get all those candy store goodies in her mouth ...


Rock music and beer ... right up Cassie's street! I was wearing a short, short denim skirt with high, high black leather boots ... if I was going to get this guy I wasn't going to leave anything to chance. Now I know that it's de rigueur to go commando these days but not for me ... I had on my sexiest, laciest pair of Amanda, Oh! Orgasmique underwear ... sexy, beautiful and yet leaving little to the imagination!


The great thing about Cassie being a journo for 'Stop the Press' is that we got passes to the aftershow party ... everything was starting to fall into place.


Sins of Angels had been really great - although heavy rock isn't really my sort of thing - but I couldn't wait to get to my hands on Hans!


As the bands base guitarist I had had plenty of time to eye him up whilst he performed - big and strong this guy is much more rugby player than football player if you know what I mean!


Wearing only a pair of faded black jeans and biker boots I got every opportunity to not only admire his strong, muscular physique but also to check out the bulge behind his fly ... and from where I was standing I could make out that even when inert whatever was lurking in there certainly was bigger than most!


Anyway, once into the aftershow party I kissed Cass and Mills au revior (they knew my misson and my single minded determination) and grabbed a bottle of champagne as I made my way over to the massive blonde, who, needless to say was already surrounded by a giggling gaggle of groupies.


I saw him look my way as I approached and as he did so I lifted the bottle to my lips and gave a little show of how good I was with my mouth on the neck of the bottle ... the champagne bubbles fizzed out and ran in golden beads down to my cleavage, moistening my silk shirt and revealing my Amanda, Oh! clad breasts underneath. I slowly mouthed the words 'I swallow ... ' as he continued to look at me.


He'd taken the bait and it was now time to strike ... I strided over to him and made my way through the groupies to him, 'out the way girls a woman has arrived!' Without breaking my stride I reached him knelt down and released the beast! It was even bigger than I imagined! I poured champagne over it before administering several large licks!


Five minutes later we were in the backroom and at it ... on top, on bottom, on all fours, upside down ... there was nowhere that he couldn't put it and believe me he certainly put it everywhere!


Afterwards we left and checked into a suite at the Ritz - we carried on all night.


Girl's all I can say is ... WOW!


Thursday 1 March 2007

EVERYONE'S GOING NUDE!


Helen called me for a chat this morning - she's over in Paris for their fashion week, usually considered the creme de la creme of the global fashion showcases.


Helen was rather amused as she had witnessed the nude protests against fur at the LeCroix show, 'Now I'm not a body fascist', she giggled, 'but don't you think these organisations could just pay some gorgeous people to take off their clothes to argue their case? I'm sure that they would make ALL the worlds headlines if they did!'


Helen has never been a huge fan of fur wearing herself and is rather surprised by its rapid return to the catwalk, however, with the Russians becoming increasingly wealthy they want to buy it, and, once you take out the glamour, money and promises of sex with beautiful people out of the equation the fashion industry is just like any other, one that exists to make money!


Cassie is going over to stay with Helen in Paris for a couple of days as she is reporting on the French new, new, new wave dance scene - those two do make a great pair. On the surface so different and yet they would die for each other!


After work Millie, Tomas and I met up for a quick drink at Barsolona and then on to see Harry Potter strip off in the West End stage play Equus.


A rather bizarre piece of work, coat hangers, chinkle chankles, stabbing out horses eyes (horses played by male ballet dancers) and a naked wizard! Quite enjoyed it though and, must admit, that for a 17 year old Daniel is turning into a fine actor, with or without his clothes.


A quick after show meal at Balans where Nico, Paul and Marcus joined us - this really is a first, Me, Millie and Tomas all in relationships at the same time!!!! How weird is that?


Took a taxi home with Nico - got him to strip off and ride me around on his back like a horse! Very enjoyable, feeling a little equine as a result ... wonder what Nico will think if I get a riding crop and boots?!