My Last 5 Girlfriends Page #3

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No, you're right, let's go to a club.

Those shoes came

to symbolise our differences

and the need to gently accommodate

each other's bum notes.

Unfortunately, that isn't what happened.

- You don't like them?

- Frankly, I don't.

Why not?

I just don't like that kind of shoe.

- It looks like a pelican.

- It's elegant.

- No, it's not.

- Yes, it is.

Look at the heel and the bow.

I think you're on your own

with this one, Rhona.

You don't know anything about fashion.

That may be, but I know a horrible shoe

when I see one.

It's not horrible. You're jealous

I bought a new pair of shoes.

I'm trying to tell you how I feel.

I really don't think they're suitable

for the party tonight.

Well, that's great. 'Cause that's

why I f***ing bought them.

- Well, so wear them.

- Now, I can't, can I?

- Why not?

- Because a minute ago,

you told me I looked like

a pelican wearing them.

Why did I have to tell her?

Why couldn't I have lied?

- Haven't you got any milk?

- There's some at the back.

- Hang on a second.

- A few days earlier,

I noticed Mr. Paul, our local newsagent,

was wearing thick grey socks

and brown leather sandals.

They were spectacularly ugly.

But did I say...

You're not gonna keep wearing

those sandals, are you, Mr. Paul?

- Why not?

- Because they're disgusting

and frankly rather offensive.

Of course I didn't,

because I'm not in love with Mr. Paul.

So why did I spare his feelings

and not Rhona's?

I suppose we could have just politely

tolerated each other's differences.

But you see, I didn't want

to end up like my parents.

Good night, dear.

Good night.

Why can't you keep

your opinions to yourself?

Because I care about you, Rhona.

Someone has to tell you when you've

bought a pair of disgusting shoes.

Anyway, why do you care

about what I think?

Because I want you to like them.

I bought them hoping you'd like them,

and now you're telling me

I look like an alien wearing them.

Why does everything I do

always have to be wrong?

Come on, don't throw that one at me.

You know that's not true.

Yes, it is.

You don't even like my shoes.

I like almost everything else.

So why can't you forget

about the shoes?

- Because you deserve better.

- OK.

- Maybe I deserve better than you.

- What?

I'll spare you the full melodrama.

Suffice to say, she didn't

eventually wear them to the party

because we never went to the party.

In fact, we never went

to any parties ever again.

I know what you mean, pal.

Those shoes were shocking.

- I should have lied.

- No. You tell it how it is.

Hardcore. Keep it real.

- Would you have lied?

- Yeah.

Excuse the mess.

The rest of the flat's

really just for show.

This is where I really live.

And meet Guppy, my first love.

Oh! Your shoes.

- What?

- What's wrong?

- What do you mean?

- You're not into it. What's up?

- I can't help thinking.

- Don't think, just get on with it.

I'm trying to, but all sorts of stuff's

spinning round my head.

Look, mate, take my advice.

You've just got to switch this off.

Do you think I'd be able to do this

if I thought about it? Do you?

- I know, but it's all a bit...

- A bit quick? Yeah.

- Yeah, a little bit too easy?

- I suppose.

And if this was so easy for you,

how many other...?

I don't want to think about that,

but I can't help it.

- Well, then you've got to stop.

- What?

Yeah, you got to stop immediately,

tell her that you respect her

far too much to continue

having sex with her.

- Really?

- Course not, you moppet!

Just enjoy it.

- Thanks, Guppy.

- Don't mention it.

When did a fire alarm go off

in an inappropriate moment

in your life?

It may be in the middle

of the West End...

You can leave some

of your stuff here.

It has been nearly six months now.

To begin with, my old leather bag

had been just a quirky character trait.

God! What have you got in there?

But eventually it began to symbolise

my deliberate attempts

to keep my relationship

with Natalie unclear.

As soon as I let it go,

I knew that a few of my clothes

and my toothbrush would take up

permanent residence in her flat.

Every morning I would re-pack it

as though this was the last time

we would ever see each other.

It's all right.

They need washing anyway.

Your toothbrush doesn't.

And this inevitably led on

to a discussion about...

And I had very definite

opinions about that.

You just need to be

a bit patient with me, that's all.

I just need time to adjust.

The truth was it felt like Natalie and I

were quickly melting into one person,

and frankly I found that

a little disturbing.

- She now freely used my...

- Perfect!

- And my...

- How dare you?

...in general conversation.

I acquired Natalie's need

for total darkness in the bedroom.

She copied my way

of folding newspapers.

I took to wandering round things

to think a problem through.

And she acquired a taste

for lying on the carpet.

We even developed our own secret

language based on ourjoint history.

A language of mutual references

that no one else would understand.

I did a bit of a ming last night.

But all these common incidents, like the

accountant on the bus that told us...

I always keep a gun in my bag.

Look, there's that accountant!

...created our own little world

that brought us closer together.

And soon my old leather bag

was powerless

to prevent us dissolving into one.

Don't you think we should

walk your granddad's dog?

He's not an accountant.

He's an IT consultant from Leicester.

A Ming vase?

Emperor Ming from Flash Gordon?

- Maybe he just smells.

- His granddad's dog died

- over six months ago, so what is it?

- Keep trying.

The answer's got to be

out there somewhere.

- Hiya!

- Hi. Sorry we're a bit late.

Don't worry. I'm running behind myself.

You must be Duncan.

- Hi.

- I'm Gemma. Come on in.

Thank you.

I would have loved

to have been an architect.

I don't have the concentration.

Have you done anything

I would have seen?

Doubt it. Unless you've been to

one restaurant on Charlotte Street.

- Which one?

- Chew Chew.

No! I love Chew Chew!

- You didn't?

- No. Well, sort of.

- Have you been to the toilet?

- With all the glass! I love that!

And it has the great big shiny...

Well, that's not me either.

But the corridor

and the area around the fire escape.

Well, that's me.

I'm hoping they have a fire.

Then my work will really get noticed.

- I'll start one next time I'm there.

- Could you? I'd appreciate that.

No problem.

All right, so I fell in love with Gemma

just a little bit that night.

Watching her talk,

blowing out a candle,

messing about in the kitchen,

brushing hair from her face.

I began to consider alternative

love-lives I could have lived.

- Hiya!

- Hi. Sorry we're a bit late.

It's fine. I'm running behind

a bit myself.

In city streets or busy restaurants,

I'm often aware of the millions

of women whose lives are doomed

to remain a mystery to me.

Seeing these women fills me with regret.

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