LIZ JONES: In which I can't believe how lucky I am for once By Liz Jones For You Magazine Published: 07:00 EDT, 27 July 2024 | Updated: 07:00 EDT, 27 July 2024 e-mail View comments David 2.0, the man with the white Ferrari, has invited me to a do. It’s a sort of corporate event, I think, a garden party with a marquee and entertainment.
He sent me links to hotels, then suggested I stay at his house. ‘It is nowhere near finished, you’ll have to take it as it is. Your bedroom is done bar wardrobes.
Hopefully the weather will be good and we can sit in the garden. Would love you to stay. You can lock the bedroom door! Breakfast will be a nightmare as you are such a fussy eater!’ He had sent a photo of him and his insanely beautiful new girlfriend, so I expect she will be there, although he hasn’t said.
Is it odd to stay with someone, having only met them once, for dinner? He was very helpful when I was buying the vicarage, suggesting a mortgage broker who turned out to be a saint. I do want an opportunity to dress up, put on heels and make-up: I’m so out of practice, I will be doing my finest Dick Emery impression. The best thing about moving to the vicarage, with all its space and light, is that I’m looking after myself more, no longer going to bed in what I’ve worn all day.
I have a proper walk-in shower for the first time in five years. I comb my eyebrows using Victoria Beckham ’s FeatherFix, as though I’m a contestant on Love Island . Oh, and I now own a lo.