10 am.
Southwest train to Reading.
A young blonde with oversized black glasses, a muddy skirt, a backpack, a mobile phone and a seriously posh accent.
Southwest train to Reading.
A young blonde with oversized black glasses, a muddy skirt, a backpack, a mobile phone and a seriously posh accent.
'Oh, Catherine, I am so hungover. We had about ten bottles of wine and several shots, and I feel like shit.'
'Yes, he was! I don't know if he said it because he was wasted, but he said that he has been in love with me for two years.'
'Oh no, I'm like, you can't be serious, really? ... Yeah. Yeah. Besotted with me.'
'Well, no, I had no idea, and I'm not even sure if it's 'cos he was so drunk. But then he said, "Why else would I take you to a Michelin-star restaurant?"'
'Yeah, he did, we went to a Michelin-star restaurant. But I'm like, "It's because you lost the bet." He bet me I wouldn't get a First, but I did, so he took me to the restaurant. That's what I said, and he's like, "No, that's not why I took you there."
'Yeah, that's what he said... "You're so pretty and so smart. I mean, you're so intelligent," he said.'
'That other girl was there. You know, the one I hate. One of the guys went over to chat to her, but she was really grim. I was like, "God, I kissed him a year ago, get over it."'
'Oh, and his senior officer came over, and he was so hot. He was flirting with me, and I was so wasted I couldn't even flirt back, but I really wanted to, 'cos he was so hot.'
'Like a major or something.'
'Yeah, they start as second lieutenant, and then I think they become captain, then major.'
'No, there are private ranks and officer ranks.'
'You have to do 14 weeks' basic training to be a private.'
'Yeah, I stayed over in Sandhurst in the junior officers' dorms. I'm on my way back home now. The bugle went off like at 7 in the morning, and I was wrecked, and then the soldiers, like, set off the fire alarm, and we had to leave the building.'
'Oh God, Catherine, I am so muddy, I didn't even shower, and I smoked so much last night. Yeah, and when my hair falls over my face, all that stale smoke smell... God, it's grim. Oh God, Catherine, I'm so hungover, I just want to get to bed and die.'
'So how is your family?'
'Really, she's totally, like, your Cordelia.'
'Yeah, but just because she's dead doesn't mean her ideas are. To say that the ideas died with her is just so ... so fallacious. I didn't really like her.'
Impressive, eh? Oxford-type, I think. Posh. Hot soldiers besotted with her. Shakespeare. Dislike of Maggie Thatcher. A First. Yup, pretty and smart.
2 comments:
Hilarious. I'm glad you jotted this down for posterity.
Well, she was speaking rather loudly! Heh.
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