The Digested Twenty-first Century (11 page)

‘You do realise that Larks is a failing school?’ Janna tossed back her luxuriant red curls as the governors of Larkminster comprehensive offered her the job of headteacher. ‘I think it’s wicked,’ she squealed. ‘And I’m delighted to give Feral, Paris, Kylie, Graffi and other chavs the chance to succeed.’

Hengist Brett-Taylor furrowed his handsome brow. Bagley Hall had gone from strength to strength since he had been in charge, but the independent sector could always benefit from associating itself with state schools. And besides, Janna was quite a minx.

‘You must be careful, Janna,’ Hengist purred. ‘Ashton Douglas and the LEA are looking to close Larks. But I can persuade Randal Stancombe, a local property developer, to buy Larks a minibus so we could put on a joint performance of Romeo and Juliet.’

Janna moistened. Hengist stood for everything she hated, but how could she resist his bedroom eyes?

‘Oh Gawd,’ drawled Cosmo Supah-Doopah, to his chums Tarquin and Xavier. ‘The head’s only gorn and made us do Shakespeare with the proles. How fraffly orful.’

‘We think it’s great,’ drooled Milly and Dulcie, the Bagley Babes, their bosoms heaving in anticipation. ‘The lower orders are well lush.’ The production was a triumph, with Paris a sensation as Romeo. ‘I must offer him a scholarship,’ Hengist thought, as his fingers gently twanged Janna’s suspender-belt. Janna’s head was in a whirl. She wanted Hengist, yet felt guilty about betraying his wife, Sally. If only she could fancy Bagley’s moody history teacher, Emlyn; but he only had eyes for Hengist’s daughter, Orianna.

Hengist smiled to himself. The
Telegraph
had loved his piece,
the opposition wanted him to be education minister and, best of all, the sultry Ruth Walton was going down on him.

Janna wept tears of bitter anguish. How could Hengist betray her and how could Ashton say he was going to close Larks when her working-class pets were making such tremendous strides?

An anonymous cheque for £120,000 arrived on Janna’s doorstep. She could afford to keep the GCSE class open after all. A second surprise soon followed.

‘I’ve come to teach history,’ Emlyn said in his sexy Welsh lilt.

‘We’ve got work to do,’ yelled Janna, ‘especially as the sports minister has taken on a bet to see if he can get a GCSE in a year at Larks.’

What a year it was. Never had Larks and Bagley Hall seen such heavy petting and frantic coupling. And how Janna’s heart swelled with pride when everyone did so well in their exams.

Hengist looked up at Alex Bruce, his deputy. What an odious nonentity he was. ‘I believe that you cheated on behalf of Paris,’ Alex snarled. Hengist paled. ‘It’s true, and I’ve betrayed my wife, ‘ he said. ‘I should go to prison.’

‘Oh Janna, you’ve won the National Teaching awards, it was me who sent the £120,000 and I’ve discovered Orianna is a lesbian,’ cooed Emlyn.

‘We can be together.’

‘I recognise Ashton as a paedophile,’ shouted Paris, as the police arrested Stancombe and Bruce on corruption charges.

Hengist left prison a wiser man. ‘Maybe we should try again,’ said Sally.

Digested read, digested:
Complete and utter bollarks.

Clare:
I’ve just seen the soignée Virginie Lacoste in the communal gardens of my £3m mansion in Lonsdale Gardens, after leaving the Avery house at 5am. Quelle scandale. My dear friend Mimi will love this.

Mimi:
It’s so difficult to be a Notting Hill Mummy when your husband has only inherited his £1.5m house and we’re so much poorer than everyone else.

Clare:
I want a baby so I can be a Yummy Mummy. I’m sooo looking forward to seeing the billionaire Si Kasparian at the Dodd Nobles’ party.

Mimi:
Predictably I’ve got three children called Casimir, Mirabel and Pretentious. How Ralph and I struggle to pay the school fees. I met Si tonight. SWOON. I’ve never been unfaithful before but I think I might now.

Clare:
It was charming to see the Curtises – or should I say Freuds!! – and the Camerons, but I’m outraged that the Averys are building a garage.

Mimi:
I pretend to poke fun at all the people I name-drop but actually this book is an homage to them. Just don’t let anyone in on the secret! The Mail on Sunday phoned to ask me to profile Si. He took me out to lunch and then he, just, well, took me. How divine, but how guilty I feel. But – sob – he hasn’t even called me since.

Clare:
Someone else you won’t care about is having an affair. Gosh! And now I’ve discovered the Averys are planning to use their garage as an extension. I’m going to threaten to expose his affair with Virginie.

Mimi:
As I’ve got no money at all, I’ve just been shopping at Lidgates before going to Cornwall for six weeks. I do wish Si would call.

Clare:
Bob Avery just laughed when I told him I knew about Virginie, but at least I told Woody Allen he couldn’t film in the gardens. Guess what, Anouska, the gorgeous teacher from Ponsonby prep, has been seen with Si! Don’t tell anyone this, because it would spoil what little plot there is, but Ralph and I have hatched two secret plans together.

Mimi:
A supermodel saw me in my tracksuit bottoms and I’m now just over nine stone. How can I ever face the world again?

Clare:
The couple you don’t care about are back together. Ah! I’ve also got to put up a trellis to block out the Averys’ view of the gardens. That’ll show them. Mimi mustn’t find out about mine and Ralph’s plans.

Mimi:
I overheard Virginie talking in a cod-French accent in Myla, saying, ‘Zees lingerie ees for my girlfriend.’ She’s having an affair with Bob’s wife!

Clare:
Hooooooray, I’m pregnant, thanks to Ralph and the turkey baster. Mimi must never find out.

Mimi:
My life is at an end. Si is getting married to Anouska and Ralph has found out about my affair. He’s punished me by selling our house to Clare for more than £2m and we’re moving to Dorset.

Clare:
Phew! Mimi still hasn’t found out about me and Ralph.

Mimi:
Dorset isn’t so bad after all, even if you can’t go shopping, and I never felt really at home with all those multimillionaires. If this was a Richard Curtis film this would be the closing scene where he panned back from the Square. But it’s not. It’s even worse.

Digested read, digested:
The media finally eats itself.

Charlotte:
I called you Willow. Though it’s the readers who would be Weeping by the end. But not because they were sad. I felt as broken as you when Piper, the gynaecologist, saw the 28-week scan and told me you had osteogenesis imperfecta (OI), a rare condition where your bones snap easily and you never grow taller than three foot. I was so happy, though, when she told me you had Type III and you wouldn’t die at birth but would have a short painful life and then die. Otherwise I wouldn’t have a story.

Amelia:
I’m your older half-sister. My Mom had been a single-parent before she met Sean and had you. My bits are going to show you that OI also creates difficult issues for siblings.

Sean:
I’m a tough-guy cop, so I didn’t cry when you were born. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a lot of difficult feelings boiling inside me. I want you to know that Charlotte completed me and we both wanted you very much. We once took you to Disneyworld where you broke your femur and the staff arrested us on suspicion of child abuse. People don’t understand OI is a condition that raises many complex issues, all of which you are going to hear of at unimaginable length.

Charlotte:
You were a genius, which is another symptom of OI, I read on Wikipedia. Sean wanted to sue Disneyworld, but the lawyer told us their staff had only been doing their job, which relieved Jodi no end as otherwise the book might have been injuncted. But the lawyer did tell us we could sue Piper, who had missed signs of OI at the 18-week scan.

Marin:
I was adopted and I don’t know who my birth mother is. This means I have very difficult personal issues in dealing with Charlotte, who may not have wanted her baby – but as her lawyer I am trying to be very professional about it.

Sean:
Marin says it is very fortunate that we live in New Hampshire as it is one of the few states that allows wrongful birth suits. Jodi thinks it is even more fortunate we live in New Hampshire. Charlotte and I are arguing. I don’t think we should sue Piper because she was your best friend and we were planning to keep you anyway. These difficult issues are tearing the family apart.

Charlotte:
Abortion is a very difficult question and I don’t quite know how to answer it, as I want to keep my dilemmas open. I would just like to have had the option, not that I would have gone
through with it because I don’t want to alienate the Pro-Life brigade and in any case I love you very much. Will that do? Did I also mention I’m a Catholic?

Amelia:
No one’s been paying me any attention for a while, so I’ve become bulimic.

Sean:
Mummy and I are getting divorced, but we still love you very much. I am testifying against her because I don’t think we should sue Piper because you might think it means we wish you were dead. I’ve also kissed Piper, but don’t tell anyone.

Charlotte:
You have been having fun at an OI convention because it’s important to remember that people with OI can lead fulfilling lives. Daddy and I are separating but he slept with me last night. I felt as if I was a vine. Apparently. I’m suing Piper not because I don’t love you but because I want you to have some money.

Amelia:
No one’s been paying me any attention for a while, so I’ve now started cutting myself. By the way, you’ve also broken a few limbs at key moments to heighten the drama. Such as it is.

Marin:
One of the jurors turned out to be my birth mother. She gave me away because she had been raped. Fancy that! Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to judge Charlotte. Especially as the jury has awarded her $8m.

Willow:
Mum and Dad are back together and have lost all their friends. Whoops, I’ve fallen through the ice and have died. I should have done this 500 pages ago.

Jodi:
Looks like I’m going to pocket the $8m then.

Digested read, digested:
Charlotte takes the money; you should just run.

‘I’ve got a cold and I can’t interview Christian Grey, the enigmatic multimillionaire tycoon, for the student newspaper today,’ says Kate, my roommate. ‘Please take my place, Ana.’

Wow! I take one look at Mr Grey and can barely speak. With his tousled hair, he is so mouthwateringly gorgeous. The epitome of male beauty. ‘G-gosh,’ I say.

‘You seem to be struck dumb, Miss Steele,’ he wryly observes. ‘I like that in a woman.’

On the way home, my cell phone rings.

‘Come to dinner,’ says Christian.

‘How did you know my number?’

‘It’s my business to know everything. I like to exercise control. My helicopter will pick you up at seven.’

I am unable to resist. No man has ever affected me in this way before.

‘Here’s the contract for our relationship,’ he says, slipping an oyster down my throat. ‘I will be the Dominant and you will be the Submissive. You will do everything I say and allow me to cane you, tie you up, sodomise you, clamp your genitals and fist you. In return I will buy you a car and a laptop.’

‘But Sir,’ I exclaim. ‘I’m still a virgin, so I will have to draw the line at fisting.’

‘You drive a hard bargain, Miss Steele.’

My inner goddess melts as he forces his tongue inside me. I have never been this wet before, etc. He bends me over his knee and slaps me hard. It feels wrong, but somehow very right. His enormous penis, etc. Juddering orgasms, etc.

‘Sleep with me, Sir,’ I beg, as I try to draw his handsome body closer to mine.

‘I can’t. I had a deeply disturbed childhood and S&M relationships are the only ones I can sustain.’

‘Tell me about your commitment problems.’

‘They are too disturbing. You will find I am 50 Shades of Grey. Yet I find myself strangely drawn to your virginal, 20-year-old body in a way that I have never previously experienced.’

My subconscious tells me I should run away from this control freak right now, but my inner goddess is telling me to stay. That I can help this poor troubled man. Christian changes into a sexy pair of faded denim jeans and leads me to his Red Room of Pain. I willingly allow myself to be chained to a crucifix while he thrashes my clitoris with a leather hunting crop. The pain is intense, but the pleasure more so. My inner goddess is panting for him not to stop until ... juddering climaxes, etc.

‘I wouldn’t normally allow myself to be treated like this,’ I say. ‘But somehow, Christian, it is OK with you as I can sense that one day we may have a loving relationship.’

‘It is the Submissive who has all the power,’ he witters, ‘and I can feel myself slowly yielding to you.’

Oh yes please, my inner goddess yells. Does he really love me as
much as Kate keeps telling me he does? And why am I so jealous of his previous Subs, and why don’t I ask him a single question about his job or his life even though we have met one another’s parents in circumstances bordering on the unbelievable?

Submit yourself to the greatest thrashing of your life, my inner goddess says, to prove how much you love him and to let him show how much he loves you. Torn ass cheeks/moist vagina/pain/yet more juddering climaxes, etc.

‘I love you, yet I have to go,’ I sob.

‘Why?’

‘Because we’re only going to get to the bottom of your commitment issues after you’ve spanked your way through the next two books.’