Oysters, roses, shampoo, yada yada. Obv choccies no good
viz. Dukan diet. I’ve tried it all, Niecey. Left-field ideas, please.
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: adultery@gmail.com. Subject:
Re. V Day.
Fine Uncle, thanks for asking, and how are you?
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [dullniece] b.miller@hotmail.co.uk.
Subject: Re.re. V Day.
Was rather hoping we could skip the social niceties. I’m *desperate*
for original Valentine’s gift for E and you occasionally come up with bizarre ideas
that might just work.
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: adultery@gmail.com.
You do know I can see your ‘cute’ bracketed nickname for me,
don’t you? Why did you give her shampoo? Bit weird. Initial ideas off top of
head: lingerie, shoes, diamond collar for that strange dog she carries about.
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [lovelyhelpfulniece]
Shampoo = champagne, pleb. Strange dog = Bonsai the
chihuahua. Your ideas = zzzz. Whither thine imagination? I’m thinking of taking
her somewhere interesting. Suggestions?
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: [annoyinguncle]
Ok. Marrakesh? Hindu Kush? Legoland? Rights of Man?
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [lovelyhelpfulniece]
Done, done, done, the what?
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: [annoyinguncle]
Just chucked in the last one to wake you after all the zzz’s.
It’s a new pub here.
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [lovelyhelpfulniece]
Now actually you might be onto something, O child of my
brother. Emmanuelle surprisingly keen on Lewes last visit.
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: [annoyinguncle]
I am meant to be
working, dear Unckie. The only thing she liked was Mimi clothes shop. That won’t
keep her occupied for long; what, about three hours? You’d have time to take in
your favourite event, Seedy Saturday.
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [cleverniece]
Now we’re cooking with gas Niecey! I’ve always had a very special
time at that surprisingly-wholesome-given-its-name affair, LOL. It certainly
would be left-field. And low-cost, appeasing my turbulent stock portfolio. Sweeten
it with a stay in a welcoming yet cheap apartment and perhaps a trifling
gee-gaw from one of your many jewellers, and Bob’s your Uncle. Well, no he’s
not, I’m your Uncle. Well done, my fine ping-pong ball. Now, may I ask, what is
your manfriend is getting YOU for Lover’s Day?
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: [annoyinguncle]
We don’t do Valentine’s. We’re married.
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [sadpatheticniece]
What a dreadful indictment of today’s youth.
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: [infuriatinguncle]
I’m ploughing through a rather dense report, Unc, and I’ve read
the same sentence six times. Can I go now?
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [sadpatheticniece]
Certainly. I’d just like to return the favour, so ping over
hubby’s email address and I’ll give him some ideas to spice up your stagnant
romance.
Sender: b.miller@hotmail.co.uk. To: [infuriatinguncle]
I like all the things you
dismissed at the start, esp chocolates and ‘shampoo.’
Sender: adultery@gmail.com. To: [niecehusband] j.miller@hotmail.co.uk
Excuse the intrusion, old thing, but heads up, as the
youngies say: I just know that B’s PRAYING for family trip to Legoland for
Valentine’s. And while you’re there, E and I are only too happy to housesit.
Beth Miller, published in Viva Lewes handbook, February 2013
