Friday 25 January 2013

Katya And The Brave Policemen. Thursday 10th July 2008




Obviously Katya can’t meet any of the Brave Policemen because she is entirely Banned from The Dorchester, but she has a Cunning Plan and arrives in a cloud of blue cigarette smoke to relate it to me.
‘Darlink.’ she says, sitting down at the kitchen table, ‘Pour me wine. I haf a Plen.’ Katya seems quite cheerful. She takes a deep pull on a Camel cigarette. She is wearing a suede mini skirt, leggings and Doc Marten boots. Katya is the mistress of inappropriate dressing. Her top is a black sleevless T shirt with a picture Courteny Love on the front. Her blue / white arms stick sharply out, the bones at her wrists and elbows gleam beneath her skin. She looks like a slightly bonkers spider.
I pour wine. I have to get ready for the Brave Policemen’s Awards, I haven’t even washed my hair. I don’t know what to wear. 
Katya tells me that I must ‘Locate the Beetch.’ She leans forward across the table blowing smoke from her nostrils.
‘’You must find her,’ she says ‘and you must lure her into the levetory.’ 
I don’t know how I will do this.
‘When you haf her, you must lock her into a cubicle. Zen you ken summon a Brave Policeman and force him to arrest her.’ 
Katya’s eyes glitter with anticipation ‘End then,’ she says ‘I will veesit her in jail !’ She is triumphant. She claps her hands above her head. 
I think the strain of all this has been too much for Katya. 
How is your mother ? I ask
‘Oh fine.’ says Katya. ‘She is dyink but she is also fine because her bones weel rest in the country of our ancesters. I must go now.’ she says. She drains her glass. ‘I weel see you verry verry soon.’ she says and she sweeps fom the room. I hear the front door slam. 
I have precisely fourteen minutes to get ready for the Brave Policemen’s Awards. 
Oh Bollocks.

My mobile rings. 
‘Hello.’ says a voice ‘My name is Paul. I am your Driver for this evening. I am parked just outside in a Silver Prius.’ 
John’s company is trying to go Carbon Neutral so Silver Priusi are the Order of the Day.
‘Hello.’ I say ‘I will do my best but I’m not even slightly ready.’
Paul says he will wait.
I rush upstairs to the Big Cupboard in Zac’s room where all my dresses are hanging. I call downstairs.
‘Abigail, will you feed Maisie and put her to bed ?’ Abigail doesn’t answer. This is probably because I have my head buried in the Big Cupboard and Abigail is three floors away, although it could be that she has gone round to Ellie’s without telling me. This would be a disaster because Zac is not good at looking after Maisie.
I find my black dress and pull it over my head. I look in the mirror. I look horrible. I am very fat. I rush downstairs to my bedroom and throw all my underwear on the floor. Somewhere I have some of those Giant Pants that Trinny and Suzannah wear every day. I have never felt the need to wear them before, but today they just might be a Lifesaver.
I find the Giant Pants. I find my Elle Macpherson Bra. I pull my Black Dress off. I take off my Topshop Bra and my Gap pants and throw them on the bed.
Zac comes into my room. 
‘Oh God.’ he says averting his eyes.
‘Well don’t bloody come in here without knocking if you don’t want to see me naked.’  I say, grabbing  John’s nightshirt and putting it on. John’s nightshirt seems to have egg all down the front of it.
Zac says ‘The door was open. Abbie’s gone out. I heard you calling her. She’s not actually here.’
I grab the Giant Pants and sit on the bed. It’s quite difficult getting into the Giant Pants as they apprear to be made of some kind of high tension rubber. For the first time I begin to feel sorry for Trinny and Suzannah.
‘Oh Gosh.’ I say ‘Zaccy, could you be a darling and look after Maisie until she comes back? Make her some tortelloni or something.’
“What are those weird shorts for?’ says Zac. ‘Why are you wearing cycling shorts?’
I pull off John’s night shirt and pick up my Elle Macpherson Bra. Zac retreats from the room. I pull my Black Dress over my head. I haven’t even shaved my legs. Bloody Katya.
Much later I am sitting in the Silver Prius with Paul. Paul is very good looking and I am not. I am trying to decide whether to wear my hair up.. a bit housewife-going-out-for- a-posh-evening ..or down.. but, let’s-face-it,-it’s-filthy.
Paul looks at me critically in his rear view mirror. “It looks better up.’ he says. Obviously the parlous state of my hair is visible even in a rear view mirror.
‘Thanks.’ I say. 
Paul drops me outside The Dorchester. He gets out of the car and opens the door for me. 
I quite like Paul.
My mobile rings. ‘Hi,’ says John ‘I’m running a bit late. Prince William fell over yesterday and we’re going to Splash on it. You can go in without me or wait in the Foyer. I won’t be too long.’
I am Not Going In Without John. 
I imagine Going In Without John. 
Either I would have to March In, Smiling Broadly and Shake Hands with everyone I know, repeating 
‘Oh yes, John’s just coming. Prince William and all that.’ over and over again, which I am quite simply Not Able To Do. Or, I would try to Lurk Inconspicuously in the Shadows but would be grabbed by a Caring Colleague of John’s and be Touted About to all the Brave Policemen who would want to know Who I Am and then I would have to say that I am actually ‘No-one’ and then they would feel Cross and Dispirited at having been introduced to No-one, them being so Brave and all. 
I will definitely be Waiting In The Foyer.
I Wait In The Foyer. I sit on a little stiff Guilded Chair. Everything in The Foyer of The Dorchester is Guilded. All the mirrors are Guilded. I catch sight of myself sitting by myself on the little Guilded Chair in a giant Guilded mirror. I am not sure that Paul was right about my hair. I look like a Slightly-Past-It-Tart hoping to pick up an Unfussy Arab, but that might be my Red Lipstick rather than my Up Hair. I coudn’t find my Soft Pink Lipstick any where. 
Bloody Abigail.
A waiter has clearly noticed my Red Lipstick.
‘Can I help you at all?’ says the waiter, ostensibly all Obsequious Attention and infact all, ‘You look like a Slightly Past It Tart.’
I explain about Prince William and the Brave Police.
The waiter still thinks I look like a Past It Tart. He offers to bring me a glass of champagne to complete my Look. I refuse to sit here drinking champagne on a little Guilded Chair all by myself so, Ostensibly Grateful I refuse the waiters offer Gracefully but in actualite I tell him to Bog Off and leave me alone in my Hideous Situation.
John arrives. John looks very handsome in his Dinner Jacket. My Giant Pants are not very comfortable as the top of the reinforced rubber waistband keeps rolling over with a little snapping noise creating a very unsightly bulgey bit where my own unsightly bulgy bit is any way. To stop this happening I have to sit up very sraight on my little Guilded chair. I look as though I have a bad back.
‘Oh, there you are !’ says John locating me and coming over. ‘Why on earth are you sitting like that. Have you hurt your back? You look very nice.’ he says, not looking at me. ‘Now where’s this police bash?’
I stand up very slowly so as not to disturb my pants. I follow John down the Foyer of the Dorchester towards the Ballroom at the end. 
The Foyer of The Dorchester is full of Arabs. They are gathered on sofas and armchairs. Some have been shopping and have bags and bags from Harrods. Some have just arrived and are following Bellboys carrying stacks of Louis Vuitton Baggage through the Foyer  Some are having Meetings and are drinking coffee from small Golden cups whilst talking to eachother in low urgent voices. 
The Dorchester must be the World’s Least Likely Place to be attacked by an Islamic Extremist. 
There is no sign of  Katya’s father’s Beetch.
The Ballroom is behind huge mirrored Guilded doors. John and me go through the doors and show our ID. There is a lot of Security at The Brave Policemen’s Awards.
John and me sit at a big round table. The Policeman sitting next to me has not been Brave but is very High Up in the Police Federation. The two policemen opposite me have been ridiculously Brave. They have Queens Medals For Bravery on their Dress Uniforms. They are very very young and one of them has the whites of his eyes showing all the way around his irids.
‘They have suffered from Post Traumatic Shock.’ says the Police Federation Policeman.
I think they still are suffering. 
I am very impressed.
  There are lots of famous people in The Ballroom. Bill Nighy is here and is very attractive a very thin. Alicia Silverstone is here too and her skin looks amazing after all that drama with her laser treatment going wrong. Cherie Blair is her and her bottom is much smaller than it was last year. She is sitting at a table with the wife of the Bravest Policeman of All. He was so Brave that he is dead.
Much later John and me go home. We have drunk too much champagne. My pants have been quite unmanageable all evening. 
Policemen are really very very Brave. I don’t think most people appreciate it.

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