“I know that.” She grinned at him, and took another sip. “What they actually mean is, don’t bottle things up. They only hurt for longer.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Dad’s got my girlfriend. What can you possibly say about that?”
“We could start with how you feel about it.”
“Feel? Feel! Alison, she was my girlfriend!”
“I thought it was all over.”
He let his head fall into his hands. “Yeah, well. It was over because he moved in on her. I found that out today.”
“Are you surprised?”
“Was that a joke?”
“Let me put it this way. If it had been anyone else—anyone—other than Jeff, would you be surprised that Annabelle had found herself a new boyfriend?”
“No. Suppose not. She’s so beautiful. Why, are you taking his side?”
“No. I think what he’s done is despicable. It’s not something I’ll ever forgive him for, either. But knowing my big brother, I have to say I’m not surprised. And if you can withstand one more observation: I always thought Annabelle was sort of flighty.”
“What do you mean, flighty?”
“Let me put it this way, I don’t think the two of you were ever scheduled to get married and live happily ever after. I know she was the prettiest girlfriend you’ve had so far; and I know this is what I said last time, but you’ll find someone else just as nice. No, scratch that, nicer. Let’s face it, Tim, it takes two to tango. She’s not exactly innocent in all this, now, is she?”
“No.” It came out as a hugely sullen grunt. “Suppose not.” He really didn’t want to examine that part of it. Simon was right about her. And she did to me exactly what she did to him.
“You want a drink?” Alison asked.
He was tempted. Just wash her out of his mind, his life, with a huge flush of drinks or synth8. The one thing he’d promised himself he would never do again.
Because Annabelle didn’t like it.
There were synth8s that would make this a whole lot easier to handle. Taking them would be so simple, making his life a pleasurable thing once more. He just had to stop being true to himself.
With every cell in his body screaming to say the opposite, he said: “No thanks, Alison, my head’s in a big enough mess as it is.”
“Tough it out, eh? Good for you.” She took another big sip of her gin and tonic. “Have you told your mother yet?”
“No.” He shifted around as if the sofa was suddenly crawling with ants. “I was sort of wondering if you might do that.”
Alison cocked one eyebrow at him. “How long till you leave for university?”
40. GLOBAL COMMUNICATIONS
“YOUR SISTER IS CALLING,” the domestic computer said.
“Put her on.”
Alison’s face filled the big living room screen. At the best of times that scale was intimidating. With a scowl on her face she appeared more than a little frightening.
“You stupid, stupid shit,” she said. The image vanished.
Following the amicable separation from my wife, I am fortunate to be able to announce that I have found someone new to share my life with. Ms. Annabelle Goddard and I have known each other for several weeks, and have grown close during this time. We are now making plans for a long and happy future together.
“Call from your wife.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe even you could do that. You thoughtless bastard. Have you got any idea what you’ve done to that poor boy?”
“Oh come on, Sue, it was hardly deliberate. You were the one who let him come home early.”
“Jesus wept, don’t you dare try and shift the blame on this. You and that juvenile tart should never have happened. Not ever, Jeff! Click, end call.”
International Sun Leader
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Rejuve grandpa bonks schoolgirl.
Jeff Baker, the planet’s oldest teenager, has scored with an eighteen-year-old babe (bikini picture >hyperlink<). The superstud pensioner brazenly announced on his own lifesite that he was bedding the gorgeous Annabella Goddard. What he didn’t mention was that sensational Bella was just a schoolgirl when they met (pictured in her uniform >hyperlink<). The incredible reason why they got together, your International Sun has discovered, was all thanks to Jeff’s son, Tim, who was Bella’s long-time and devoted boyfriend. Innocent Tim introduced the pair when his old man came back from his fabulously expensive Euro Rejuvenation Treatment. Now the besotted dad’s gone and elbowed his pining lad aside so he can grapple with big boobed Bella (bikini picture2 >hyperlink<).
Heartbroken Tim has wound up moving in with his aunty while the couple enjoy nightly romps in the playboy’s palatial home where poor Tim grew up. “I can’t stand living there anymore,” said the desperate boy, adding: “They’ve ruined my life.”
What’s more, Bella isn’t the first girl the frisky Jeff has bedded since he finished his treatment. Sad Martina Lewis (picture >hyperlink<) had a very public fling with the insatiable Jeff several weeks ago. “He was all a girl could dream of between the sheets,” the rejected Martina said yesterday. But she doesn’t hold any grudges. “I wish Bella well. He’s a great catch.”
The brainy hunk (picture >hyperlink<) has also featured heavily in Rob Lacey’s campaign for the European presidency. Last night, a spokesperson for the hopeful candidate’s office said: “Jeff Baker is an excellent example of rejuvenation. This latest development only proves how successful the treatment which Prime Minister Lacey endorsed can be.” Asked if Jeff would be taking any further part in the campaign, the spokesperson replied: “I think he’s got his hands full right now.”
The International Sun says: You lucky bastard, Jeff, we’re right behind you, mate.
Are you one of the girls Jeff has slept with? If you are and have a story to tell, contact our newsdesk >txtlink<. We pay the best for the best.
Commentary
Nice for Some.
Jeff Baker cost trillions of our taxeuros to rejuvenate, and for what exactly? This is not a treatment that will ever be made available to everyone. It is the province of the elite. And that of course means the unelected Eurocrats that rule our lives, and their cronies in the Federal Parliament. They knew that before they funded the treatment, and they know it for certain now. Yet all they do is spit in our faces when we complain. They sold the project to their sheeplike followers because Baker would deliver some new gizmo for continental companies to manufacture and sell to us at exorbitant prices. Now, he can’t even be asked to do that, instead he’s shacked up with some teenage bimbo, screwing himself into a heart attack. Nice for you, Baker. We’d like you to remember who paid for you each time you wake up in the morning. Out here in the real world people are dying, people are oppressed, people are being slung in prison under foreign laws, and people are being robbed of their income so bastards like Lacey can further their own selfish ideology and lives. Why don’t you try and remember that, Baker? We’ll certainly remember you after the referendum, and before, too.
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