Fur Coat No Knickers Read Online Free

there was still no husband and still no baby. It’s true what they say: youth is wasted on the young. I stared at my reflection in the staffroom mirror. Sure, we can Botox to the hilt, have facelifts, stretch and inject every conceivable part of our body, yet, we cannot stop our ticking biological clock. Each minute, each hour, each day, youth was slipping from my fingertips, from the inside out. I couldn’t do anything about it. It was and is impossible to stop that ageing process inside-me.
    I didn't want to go down the road of having my eggs frozen and stored like a frozen Petit-Poi. My baby would get frostbite and if he/she was anything like me - they would hate being cold. And what if something happened to me whist it was in the deep freezer? Would it be left there for eternity? Could they accidentally defrost my petit-poi and plant it in some other mummy? It wasn’t that I had anything against others who took this route. In fact, I was almost envious that they had the courage to do it. I just wanted a fresh one, straight from him, my Mr. Right; planted in my own lady-garden, where I would protect it, house it and keep it warm and safe.
    No, the answer is most definitely to continue my search to find Mr. Right. Surely this coming year would bring me the happiness I deserve?’
    I was stirred from my daydream when the taxi beeped outside.
    I lugged my suitcase from the staffroom, locked the door behind me and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
     
    Feeling exhausted, I scooched over to my window seat and flopped down. I couldn’t help noticing a gorgeous ride coming down the aisle. Phwar! Please let him be sitting next to me, I thought. He could most definitely be a candidate to be my Mr. Right. My heart sank a little as I watched him walk past. He didn’t even give me a second glance, the gobshite.
    It was then I noticed a commotion further up the plane. I could see a rather large businessman trying to make his way down the aisle. He looked like he was heavily pregnant. Everyone had to clear a path for him as he squeezed through the seats; tatty briefcase in one hand and a half eaten pasty in the other. Sweet Jesus , I thought, can he not stop eating just for a few minutes while he gets on the plane? Obviously not, it turned out. I watched him take a huge bite; with only half of the gigantic mouthful managing the journey to his mouth, the rest was in free fall, rolling off his belly and into the aisle.
      I breathed a sigh of relief as he trampled his way passed me. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped and then began to perform a three-point-turn in order to maneuver himself round… and into the seat next to me. Oh for the love of God, I thought, shuffling in my chair uncomfortably and trying to get as far over as possible whilst grabbing my possessions at the speed of light. I couldn’t help but watch this enormous mass coming towards me. Oh God… beep… beep… beep . This man seriously should have been equipped with warning hazard lights and a ‘WIDE LOAD’ sticker.
    He finally managed to align himself in order to come in for landing. Mission impossible had been accomplished. But, as wide loads inevitably do, he clearly required two lanes. In a matter of seconds his bulk had started to spread over into my space. His I’ve-had-all-the-pies belly could have taken up a seat all on its own (and the person’s in front, I might I add).
    By then , I was fuming. Why should I have to pay extra for going over 15 kilos in my luggage, when this colossal vehicle can get on the plane for the same price as me? His elbow and chubby leg had already launched a full-scale invasion of what was left of my personal space, despite the fact that I was leaning so far the other way. All I was left with was a few centimeters of space, leaving me precariously balancing on one bum cheek. He gave me a cheery smile.
    ‘Howerya? Sure , the weather’s shocking, is it not?’
    I gave a dismissive nod. Yuck , I thought. Half