This Charming Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

a cheap mail-order catalogue.
    These photos managed, despite Paddy being the most handsome man alive, to make him look like a male model down on his luck.
    The interview said they had known each other since they were teenagers, but had been seeing each other romantically, ‘in a low-key’ fashion, for the past seven months. Past seven months! I had been seeing him ‘in a low-key’ fashion for the past sixteen months! And no wonder he said we should be ‘low-key’. He said life (mine) would be a living hell if I appeared at his side at official shindigs and red-carpet events. The press would torment me and I’d be obliged to wear a full face of make-up at all times, even when asleep, to avoid photos captioned with, ‘Paddy’s girl is spotty minger’. (During thesummer there had been two mentions of me in gossip columns but Paddy’s press office said I was helping him with clothing, and everyone seemed to believe that.) I had honestly thought he was thinking of my best interests. Instead he was keeping Alicia, his ‘soul friend’ (that’s what he said in the interview), from finding out about me. How thick am I?
Later Tuesday
    VIP photo-shoot was the final blow. I spent the day analysing the photos and brooding. What had this Alicia Thornton got that I hadn’t? I was flicking through the pages, studying the pictures of him and her, searching for clues. Again and again. Trying to believe this was real. But I ended up staring at them too much so that it didn’t look like him any more, the way if you stare at your own face in the mirror for too long, it goes weird, almost scary.
Even later Tuesday
    Angry. Thinking dark, bitter thoughts. Full of bad, burny feeling. Breathless. Suddenly I dashed VIP magazine to the floor and thought, I deserve answers!
    Drove to Paddy’s apartment and rang bell. Rang it and rang it and rang it and rang it and rang it. Nothing happened but I decided, To hell with it, I’ll stay! I’ll wait until he comes back. Even if I have to wait a number of days. A couple of weeks, even. He’ll have to come home eventually.
    Bad, burny feeling made me strong and I felt I could wait for ever. If necessary.
    I made plans. I rang Bridie and asked her to bring a sleeping bag and sandwiches. Also a flask of soup. ‘But not minestrone,’ I said. ‘Nothing with lumps.’
    ‘What?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘You are camped outside de Courcy’s flat?’
    ‘Must you dramatize everything?’ I said. ‘I’m just waiting for him to come home. But it may take a few days. So, like I said, a sleeping bag, sandwiches and soup. And remember: nothing with lumps.’
    She was squawking about being worried about me and I had to hang up. Short of patience.
    Time passed. Bad, burny feelings keeping me focused. I was unaware of discomfort, cold and need for loo. Like a Buddhist monk.
    Intermittently I rang Paddy’s bell, as much for something to do as anything else. Then I realized bad, burny feelings must have abated slightly as I was finding this quite boring. I rang Bridie again. Asked, ‘Could you also bring the new InStyle, a sudoku book and my biography of Diana Vreeland?’
    ‘No!’ she said. ‘Lola, please! Please come away from there. You have lost your reason.’
    ‘On the contrary,’ I said. ‘I’ve never been so sane in my life!’
    ‘Lola, you are stalking him. He’s a public figure, you could get into trouble! You could –’
    Had to hang up again. I didn’t savour being rude but I had no choice.
    Entertained myself by ringing Paddy’s doorbell a few more times, then my mobile rang. It was Bridie! She was at the gate! She couldn’t get in because she didn’t know the code!
    ‘Have you a sleeping bag?’ I asked her. ‘And soup in a flask?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Is Barry with you?’ (Barry was her husband.)
    ‘Yes, Barry’s here beside me. You like Barry, don’t you?’
    Yes, but I had visions of her and Barry manhandling me into their car and driving me away. Not having