The Year I Went Pear-Shaped by Tamara Pitelen Page A

brought our drinks over, giving me a moment to think about how to break it to Gordon that the whole story would be pretty much totally made up.
    “Oh bloody hell Gordon, well, what about if I followed you around for a week, only to the exciting things, and we pretended it was all in a day? Magazines do that kind of thing all the time.”
    “Really? Good God, next you're going to tell me that the letters to the editor are made up as well.”
    “Only the interesting ones.”
    “Well, who’d have thought!" he said with mock surprise. 'so, basically we’re going to completely invent a day in my life, is that right?”
    “Yep, you're getting the idea now. Although it would really help if there was at least one bona fida celeb party that we could hook all the made up stuff onto, surely there's some fancy schmancy shindig you've been invited to coming up soon?”
    “Well, I get invited to loads of things, I just hardly ever go because after your ten thousandth mini samosa, it all gets a bit tired.”
    “Jesus Gordon, you're 34 not 104! Where's your joie de vive? What gets you excited?”
    He looked at me with a sly smile and raised an eyebrow suggestively. Good God, was the Gardener flirting with me?
    “Ok, look,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “Just go home and sift through the million and one invitations you've had in the last day or so and give me a call about which one we can go to, ok?” I passed him my business card, circling my mobile phone number.
    "Wait a minute!" he said. "I've just remembered, there is a party coming up soon that should be a doozie, all the big names will be there. It's this Saturday at the MCA, will that do it?"
    Will that do it? That was only the biggest party Sydney is likely to see before the next Millennium.
    "Yeah, that’ll be perfect. Will you be able to get me in, plus the photographer and an, um, assistant?" I added, suddenly remembering Anita and how my life wouldn’t be worth living if I didn't take her with me.
    "Hmm, should be fine, I'll go and make the call now and give you a ring later to let you know."
    Then, glancing at his watch and throwing back his last mouthful of coffee, my dream man announced he had to get to rehearsal. Kissing me on the cheek, we exchanged thanks and goodbyes and I watched him swagger out the door, turning to give me one last wave he then blasted me with a final, fatal smile warhead. Ka boom!
     

Chapter 12: Enter the Psychobitch
    From the street below she could hear Simon, the little boy from next door, calling out to their new Labrador puppy.
    “Saffron! Saaaaaffroooon!” The five year old boy called out at the top of his voice.
    “Here Puppy, c’mere Saffron, it's dinner time! Mum's got some yummy lamb for you.”
    The young woman smiled to herself and pulled back the thick blue curtain to glance out the window at the little boy. Simon had just started school the week before and was standing on the pavement in front of his house in baggy little grey trousers and a white shirt which had grass stains down the back, and was half hanging out at the back. Loosely knotted around his small waist was his school jumper.
    After watching him for a minute, the woman let the curtain fall back into place and returned to her place on the floor where she sat cross-legged, picking up her scissors and turning her attention back to what she was doing. By her side was a big pile of glossy magazines.
    Humming to herself as she worked, the woman rocked slowly backwards and forwards, her long dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Her forehead was creased with concentration as she carefully cut around a photo of a man that she'd taken from one of the magazines in a stack next to her.
    There wasn't much else in the room besides the hundreds of photos, apart from a table at the end of the room, which had a little shrine on it. In the centre of it was a big photo of the man's face with six tea light candles and a stick of incense in front of it. The