My Last 5 Girlfriends

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Hello, and a very good morning to you.

It's BBC London, 94.9.

- It's me, Jo Good, and Paul Ross.

- May I say,

with the sun shining outside as

it plays across the beautiful buildings,

- you look gorgeous this morning.

- Thank you very much.

- You said a bit of sun.

- My favourite vista ever

is going over Waterloo Bridge.

You see Westminster, Big Ben,

you see the London Eye,

the South Bank.

The great thing is it's better to be on

Waterloo Bridge looking across the river

because Waterloo Bridge is the most

boring bridge apart from London Bridge.

But on Waterloo, you see good things.

Never stay at the Dorchester.

Stay at the cheap place next door

and look down on the Dorchester.

- You save money, get a better view.

- You're so right.

What a lovely city we live in.

Enough of our yakking...

Dear Wendy, Olive,

Rhona, Natalie and Gemma:

I hope you're all very happy.

Did that sound sarcastic?

It was meant to.

What you've collectively done to me...

What you've collectively

done to me is...

What you've collectively done to me

is quite an achievement.

Four years ago, I was happy to believe

in a very simple concept.

You might have heard of it.

It's called love.

But thanks to the five of you,

I now know that love is a lie,

a myth specifically concocted

to bring me as much pain

and misery as possible.

Wendy.

Were you ever really

that interested in me?

Or was I just understudying for Alex

while you and him

went though a dull patch?

Olive.

Almost everything I told you was a lie.

I'm sorry about that.

Rhona. Who did you think I was?

If I was that wrong for you,

you should have been

paying more attention at the start.

Natalie.

OK, so I got myself out of that one,

but did you really want me?

Orjust someone?

And Gemma.

What should I say to you?

I suppose I should forgive you.

This is a suicide note, after all.

OK, I forgive you.

But I don't want that

to make you feel any better.

I'm sure you'll all find someone.

You might even think you're in love.

But don't kid yourselves.

We're all just playing out scenes

we've seen in films.

The only difference is our stories

have depressing endings.

When real people

walk towards a sunset,

no music swells, no credits roll.

They just get to the end of the beach,

have a row and walk back to the car.

And that's depressing.

In fact, after reading this you might

feel your only option is to join me.

And that's the one thing

I wouldn't blame you for.

Bye, then.

Duncan.

Sorry, but I think my belt

is stuck under your...

Sorry. I thought this seat

felt a bit uncomfortable.

No, that's normal.

That's just economy.

Sorry, that's just what?

Economy. That's just being in...

- It doesn't matter, wasn't very funny.

- No, I get it.

Sorry. I'm a bit slow sometimes.

I'm only in economy because

my firm are such cheapskates.

- Me, too.

- Were you at Graphica?

- Sorry, what?

- At the expo.

You've got no idea

what I'm talking about.

Not really.

Sorry, you must think you've got

lumbered next to a right nutter.

- I promise I'll shut up now.

- No, no, not at all.

What is it? Graphic...?

Graphica. It's just a work thing.

And I just assumed that you were

coming back from it as well.

Which is, of course, ridiculous.

And a little bit arrogant.

I have this tendency to think other

people's lives revolve around mine

so I am gonna stop talking

and leave you in peace.

No, that's quite all right. It's OK.

No, I...

Of all the people I could have sat

next to, I sat next to Wendy.

I couldn't accept that meeting her

on that plane

had merely been a coincidence.

Had heavenly forces been subtly

shifting our movements

so that we would one day meet

on the Paris to London shuttle?

Or was it just down to chance?

- Johnny?

- Thanks, Duncan.

OK. Well, between Charles De Gaulle

and Heathrow Airport,

there are two national airlines.

And they were running that morning

six flights.

So the odds:
one in six.

I'd actually planned to get

the 10.30 Air France flight.

But somehow, a bottle

of shampoo leaked in my bag,

wasting a valuable ten minutes.

By the time the hotel clerk

had produced my bill,

cleared my credit card and

I found a taxi, it was already 9. 15.

Then because of some ridiculous

roadworks on the Champs-lyses,

by the time I got to the airport,

my flight had finished boarding.

I couldn't be bothered waiting for the

next Air France, so I got the next BA.

- Would you like some lunch, madam?

- Yes, thank you.

- And you, sir?

- No. I don't...

- We have sandwiches if you'd like.

- I'm not really...

Go on. Take them.

I'll eat them. I'm starving.

- Thank you. Thanks.

- Thank you.

- Are you sure I'm not depriving you?

- No. Absolutely not.

Thank you.

- I love airline food.

- Really? You must be the only one.

I don't know, it sort of...

It still seems like a treat somehow.

My mum used to have

one of these trays at home,

and anything I wouldn't eat,

she'd put in it

and pretend we were going on holiday.

- Did it work?

- Yeah. Every time.

It's kind of...

It's a bit silly, really.

No. Not really.

Not as silly as collecting sick bags.

Collecting what?

- No, it's nothing.

- No, do you collect sick bags?

Not anymore.

So how many have you got?

About a hundred?

Blimey! You must have travelled a lot!

It was my dad, mainly.

He'd collect them for me.

They were sort of like postcards.

He'd write little messages

and draw pictures on them.

They're like works of art.

- Sweet.

- Really?

Well, it did make me want to travel.

He'd write reviews

of the places he'd been.

I always wanted to know

if he was right.

So you're working your way

through the sick bags?

Sort of. I suppose I'm about halfway.

That's so great. I wish

I had a mission like that.

Something to devote myself to.

I'm Wendy, by the way.

For the next 33 minutes,

Wendy gave me her mini biography.

Wendy had been in Paris

attending a trade fair.

She worked as a graphic designer

for a fashion magazine in Soho.

She was born in Blackpool...

...but moved to Wiltshire as a child.

She did fine art at Camberwell...

...and now lives alone

in a flat in Earl's Court.

The whole place

is falling apart, though.

I really shouldn't have bought it.

It needs so much doing to it.

But it was one of those rash decisions.

I have a tendency to do that.

Well, one of those

rash decisions became me.

Soon my life would be full of...

I need to see you now.

- ... and...

- You make me very happy.

Despite incredible odds,

we had found each other.

Didn't that prove that these things

weren't just down to chance?

That God is running some kind

of heavenly dating service?

Have you given up hope of ever

finding that special person?

Well, don't despair.

At Divine Dating, we have hundreds

of expertly trained staff

standing by to meet

your romantic requirements.

I never thought I'd find her.

I'd given up hope.

A friend introduced me to Divine Dating,

and I've never looked back.

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