The Plot

Last night I went to the Cafe Rouge for a glass of white wine (red wine stains your lips and teeth) with my old chums from the NCT group. We always have a laugh.

Susan is always eager to point out the merits of having a partner who is a school teacher. Michael works in their daughter's excellent state primary school, and so takes the responsibility for school holiday childcare, school drop off and collection. Joan was apparently openly seething with jealousy. Our men were still hard at work in the City of London when we were leaving for our tipple this evening.

'Susan has it all', gushed Joan.

'I would give anything for a man who could sort out the childcare for me - that is just the hardest thing', - she enthused (I can't really see why, Joan is a stay at home mum and has a full-time nanny for her two school age boys).

Susan looked positively smug, and tottered dramatically off to the loo (tipsy again).

'She has it all', cried Joan within earshot of Susan as the door of the toilet slammed behind her.

When Susan had safely disappeared Joan couldn't help herself, and the conversation descended into a bitchfest.

'Get real Joan, your husband is filthy rich, I know which one I would prefer', cackled Helena.

'We can walk to our homes in two minutes from here. Would you really rather live in poverty and squalor simply because your husband would look after the kids?' she bitched.

They both laughed like drains.

I felt nauseated walking back up Alleyn Road with this pair tonight. They remind me of the Head Girl and her evil brainless sidekick, a couple of hungry velociraptors who work in pairs with big claws. It takes me back to my school days.

They began a plot this evening:

'Valentines day is on its way. Lets ask our husbands for breast implants for a gift - and God help them if they actually cough up a 'gift voucher' for the procedure.' suggested Helena.

Joan agreed enthusiastically, 'I'm in, how about you?' she asked me.

I laughed nervously. I feel scared, I don't want to play. The men are dammed if they do, and dammed if they don't. James hates games. What to do, what to do, what to do???????????