My ex-boyfriend ST and I arranged to stay in a hotel in the south of England and use this as a base to visit our other exes. I did not trust ST when I climbed into our huge shared bed for the night. However, I got through the ordeal unscathed, largely because I ensured that I was fully armoured in my red and white fleece pyjamas.
My husband TPR was obviously not pleased with me when I joined him the next day to visit the magnificent coast line and the town museum. He refused to walk with me along the cliffs or help me find the best angle to photograph the model village, and he hid from me amongst the museum exhibits.
When I finally cornered TPR in the fossil section he confessed that he had slept with many of my friends over the years, and most recently with WB. Now it was my turn to show immense displeasure.
