But Ed would love it. It’s required reading for openroading big-sky biker types. Like how all emogirls have to read The Bell Jar. ”
“Uh-huh.”
Betsy takes a long sip of tea.
“Oh My God. You don’t like my boyfriend.”
Betsy squints from under her hair. “No, no, no, honeybee. He’s…cute as a button. And you’re obviously enjoying yourself, making all this up. It’s just he’s, I don’t know, maybe a little more revealing than you realize? He’s not a person, after all: He’s a list of things Heidi finds attractive in a guy. That’s kind of personal material to be putting out there, hon. It’s like I’m peeking inside your head, getting all surprised by what’s going on up there.”
“Surprised?” That doesn’t sound good. I thought Ed was perfect and gorgeous in a universally accepted, non-Heidi-specific kind of way. “You mean, I got the list of attractive stuff wrong?”
“No, sweetie. That’s not the kind of thing you can getwrong. I guess…well, I guess I’m just surprised you have a list.”
“Don’t let The Coat fool you, missy,” I say, waving a spoon at her. “Beneath this cunning disguise, I am actually a girl. A girly girl, who has girly thoughts about boylike boys. Bad thoughts. Bad, naughty, girly thoughts.”
There’s a little cough, cutting me off from my spoon waving.
Teddy.
Edging behind Betsy and looking deliriously rumpled like always, curls askew, in a floury apron and his monster-feet slippers.
I don’t know what’s more humiliating: the fact that he heard me, or the fact that he’s giving me that sympathetic lazy smile, eyes twinkling, the one that says, “Wow, you’re probably really embarrassed now.”
I sort of shrink into The Coat, waiting for him to swat me mockingly with a spoonful of cookie dough, or doodle a chalky motorbiking Heidi-lover (wearing very thick spectacles). But he just twinkles knowingly some more, and turns his back.
“I’ll just be over here, completely unable to hear you,” he says, gently enough to make me shrink even farther, while he gets busy wiping down the Daily Wisdom and replacing it with W HY NOT TRY A CUP OF E ARL G REY ? W E HAVE RUN OUT OF MILK . “Again?” says Betsy, twisting round to read. “Crap. Teddy, sweetie, drop round the corner store and pick up a couple of pints? Excuse me, Heidi, I have to go yell at some suppliers.”
We’ve only got two customers, and they’ve been served. We’re milkless. Perfect opportunity for me to do what any self-respecting girlfriend would be doing right now: chat online with my boy.
UChat
mrsheidichristie: Hey eddiebaby! You still alive or did Bilbo stink you to death?
gingerbread_ed: he stank me to death. apparently i have been reincarnated as some guy called ‘eddiebaby.’ :/
mrsheidichristie: Humblest apologies, edmondo.
gingerbread_ed: aren’t you supposed to be at work?
mrsheidichristie: Yeah, we’re not very busy though. Betsy says hi!
gingerbread_ed: give her a snog from me?
mrsheidichristie: um…no. I could send you an almond finger?
gingerbread_ed: mmm, kinky
I have to switch between two different browsers so I can be logged into both accounts, which is a pain. But it’s worth it. It looks super-amazing. Even Betsy’s impressed, when she comes back in.
“OK, I’m starting to like him,” she says, reading over my shoulder once I’m safely logged back out again, my tracks covered. “You, I’m a little worried about. You’re a little too good at this, you know that?”
“It’s all Ed’s fault. He’s leading me astray.”
She smiles. I think she’s finally getting why this is fun. Then she peers at the screen again.
“Wait. These are private messages, right? So only you and Ed can read them? I mean, in theory.”
See? She’s starting to think he’s real, too.
“In theory, yeah.”
“So if no one else can see this stuff, what’s the point?”
I check my watch, and grin.
Mycroft Christie, episode 2.2, “The Burmese
“Uh-huh.”
Betsy takes a long sip of tea.
“Oh My God. You don’t like my boyfriend.”
Betsy squints from under her hair. “No, no, no, honeybee. He’s…cute as a button. And you’re obviously enjoying yourself, making all this up. It’s just he’s, I don’t know, maybe a little more revealing than you realize? He’s not a person, after all: He’s a list of things Heidi finds attractive in a guy. That’s kind of personal material to be putting out there, hon. It’s like I’m peeking inside your head, getting all surprised by what’s going on up there.”
“Surprised?” That doesn’t sound good. I thought Ed was perfect and gorgeous in a universally accepted, non-Heidi-specific kind of way. “You mean, I got the list of attractive stuff wrong?”
“No, sweetie. That’s not the kind of thing you can getwrong. I guess…well, I guess I’m just surprised you have a list.”
“Don’t let The Coat fool you, missy,” I say, waving a spoon at her. “Beneath this cunning disguise, I am actually a girl. A girly girl, who has girly thoughts about boylike boys. Bad thoughts. Bad, naughty, girly thoughts.”
There’s a little cough, cutting me off from my spoon waving.
Teddy.
Edging behind Betsy and looking deliriously rumpled like always, curls askew, in a floury apron and his monster-feet slippers.
I don’t know what’s more humiliating: the fact that he heard me, or the fact that he’s giving me that sympathetic lazy smile, eyes twinkling, the one that says, “Wow, you’re probably really embarrassed now.”
I sort of shrink into The Coat, waiting for him to swat me mockingly with a spoonful of cookie dough, or doodle a chalky motorbiking Heidi-lover (wearing very thick spectacles). But he just twinkles knowingly some more, and turns his back.
“I’ll just be over here, completely unable to hear you,” he says, gently enough to make me shrink even farther, while he gets busy wiping down the Daily Wisdom and replacing it with W HY NOT TRY A CUP OF E ARL G REY ? W E HAVE RUN OUT OF MILK . “Again?” says Betsy, twisting round to read. “Crap. Teddy, sweetie, drop round the corner store and pick up a couple of pints? Excuse me, Heidi, I have to go yell at some suppliers.”
We’ve only got two customers, and they’ve been served. We’re milkless. Perfect opportunity for me to do what any self-respecting girlfriend would be doing right now: chat online with my boy.
UChat
mrsheidichristie: Hey eddiebaby! You still alive or did Bilbo stink you to death?
gingerbread_ed: he stank me to death. apparently i have been reincarnated as some guy called ‘eddiebaby.’ :/
mrsheidichristie: Humblest apologies, edmondo.
gingerbread_ed: aren’t you supposed to be at work?
mrsheidichristie: Yeah, we’re not very busy though. Betsy says hi!
gingerbread_ed: give her a snog from me?
mrsheidichristie: um…no. I could send you an almond finger?
gingerbread_ed: mmm, kinky
I have to switch between two different browsers so I can be logged into both accounts, which is a pain. But it’s worth it. It looks super-amazing. Even Betsy’s impressed, when she comes back in.
“OK, I’m starting to like him,” she says, reading over my shoulder once I’m safely logged back out again, my tracks covered. “You, I’m a little worried about. You’re a little too good at this, you know that?”
“It’s all Ed’s fault. He’s leading me astray.”
She smiles. I think she’s finally getting why this is fun. Then she peers at the screen again.
“Wait. These are private messages, right? So only you and Ed can read them? I mean, in theory.”
See? She’s starting to think he’s real, too.
“In theory, yeah.”
“So if no one else can see this stuff, what’s the point?”
I check my watch, and grin.
Mycroft Christie, episode 2.2, “The Burmese
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