Dearest Ros:
My jewel, jet-setter, my go-getter - yes I will help you.
Many thanks for your postcard-cum-SOS. I would like to say I can't believe young sonny Gym left you all on your lonesome (where was it, did you say? Baggage collection at Malaga-Costa del Sol? Ouch!), but this would be a whopping lie. And don't say I didn't foresee the end of the affair (between you and he).
I can't come and rescue you like a knight in an Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sandals combination, but I can offer moral support via the email (as now). Go to the embassy, Rosalind, they will be able to get you home in one piece; and providing I don't have any prior commitments (returning video tapes, library books, that sort of thing) I will be able to meet and greet you at London Gatwick (perhaps with one of those hastily made cardboard signs with your name on it).
So long as we are able to clear a few things up on the taxi ride home, I might also extend board and lodging to you at my place while you recover from your ordeal (I've stayed in those budget Spanish hotels - family holiday when I was twelve - and remember they weren't a great deal more sophisticated than a Baghdad prison, or so one imagines).
I admit I was a little surprised at receiving your call for help, I half-assumed that you were sick to the back teeth of me, but now I realise that you are a helpless femme-fatale in a vulnerable position, and that your recent antipathy towards me was informed more by a general malaise, perhaps also by your vanishing friend - the Gym teacher. Do you think he has another mistress out there? There are people (admittedly with seven times the intelligence) that pose as sugar-daddies/babies (?) only to break a person financially or emotionally for their own good (bank balance? Ego? Who knows!).
Rosalind: You poor victim!
How the tables have turned on you in the last month!
If you were a footballer I suppose you would be telling the assembled press that you are: 'gutted'.
Anyway, go to the Embassy as I said. They are used to dealing with unwashed and slightly dazed holiday-makers, as well as jilted lovers. Then email me, or call - if I am out on an errand, simply try again later, I will pick up eventually.
And before signing-off, I will end on some good news that I feel sure will cheer you up. Those fabulous sons at the Daily Mail have picked my book for review and at last somebody has done it justice. I have attached the full piece (65 words) to this email sent me by Charles: 'Dan Brown meets David Baldacci'!
Yours charitably,
Norman.
... arms (generally speaking) open wide.
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