I just ran five kilometres. I’m not even kidding. Without stopping once, except to cross the road here and there. OK, so I might have altered my route a couple of times so there were more roads to cross. And I may have stopped at every crossing even when there was no traffic, looking left and right to be sure, while I got my breath back, but I did it. It’s a milestone. I text Chas and tell him. He’s obviously not with a client because I get a typically Chas-ian reply straightaway.
‘Awesome!’
Myra, on the other hand, sends, ‘Freak’ followed by ‘Traitor’, followed by ‘LOL.’
Knowing that Robert’s relationship is with Samantha, not Saskia, leaves me both better and worse informed. I know, for example, that they can’t have been seeing each other for more than two years because that’s how long she’s been on the show. But I know nothing about her home life or whether she’s cheating on anyone herself. I can’t force my way into her life like I did with Saskia, partly because I wouldn’t know how but also because I don’t have it in me to do it again. I haven’t got the energy.
I’ve been trying to remember whether or not she was at Josh’s party, but she wasn’t on my radar at the time so, if she was, I’ve forgotten. As far as I can remember, I’ve never met her. Unlike with Saskia, Robert has never slagged her off. He’s never really spoken about her at all. I’ve always got the impression that the younger actors on the show are a bit cliquey, all hanging out together in the evenings, as if they can multiply their star power by running in a pack.
Of course, I’ve Googled her some more and read a couple of short interviews, although, as one of the lesser characters, she doesn’t command the same column inches Saskia does. Things I’ve learned include: she went to stage school in London from the age of thirteen, she’s a Daddy’s girl (is that the same as having a Daddy complex? I don’t know), she has a small dog who seems to have lost the use of his legs, because in every picture I see he’s sitting in a handbag, she likes cheese and onion crisps. Fascinating stuff.
I found her Twitter page. Photos of the dog. Photos of Samantha and the dog. Selfies with fishy, pouty lips and more than a hint of cleavage. She seems to call people ‘babes’ a lot. All my worst prejudices flooded out and I decided I had to stop looking. Me turning into a bitch wasn’t helping anyone, least of all me.
I decide I need to approach things from a different angle. What does he get from her that he can’t get from me? Yes, yes, I know. Apart from that. Do I need to gen up on One Direction or Geordie Shore? What do they talk about? What do they do when they’re not in bed? They must have something else in common.
‘Do you think she’s got a designer vagina?’ Myra says helpfully when I ask her advice. ‘Apparently, that’s a thing now.’
I don’t even dignify that with an answer.
Georgia is home for a few days, brown as a Dundee cake and full of stories that make my hair stand on end. It’s always easier for Robert and me to bond when our daughter is around but I think that it helps that I no longer care what he’s doing when he’s not with me. I’ve finally told him about Chas and, instead of being dismissive or baulking at the expense, he told me he thought it was great and that it was obviously working because he’d never seen me look so fit and healthy.
For one scary moment I thought he was going to suggest joining me on my sessions, but in the end all he did was suggest we go running together more often, which we’ve started doing. It’s fine. It makes me push myself harder. And while we’re puffing along there’s no pressure to be talking or trying to show him how devastatingly witty I am. It’s all I can do to breathe.
Oh, thirteen stone dead, by the way. Just in case you were wondering. Robert, on the other hand, has gained a couple of pounds. I wonder why that is.