The Journal of a Young Lady in Love

 

“He is My Lover and All Conquering Legendary Hero”

by C S.

A few weeks ago “Clemantics” received anonymously through the post and wrapped in brown paper covers what purported to be “The Journal of a Young Lady in Love”. The author appears to be one ‘CS’ with an address in Whitehall.. We tried to track down the author and the person who posted the Journal to us all without success. We wondered what the motive might have been for posting it because of the nature of the intimate relationship, which it reveals. However, we decided its author wished the Journal's content to be put into the public domain as a manifestation not only of her love; but her good fortune in being in the right place at the right time with a political colossus of our time, as she sees him.

copyright Clemantics

“I call him my Colossus, my Alexander the Great, because that is just what he is, what he has achieved and has yet to achieve for his country…..my country, our country. How could it be, I ask myself, that the second generation member of a Turkish ruling family, bitterly and unjustly assassinated 100 years ago, has reached the heights of becoming the Prime Minister of his adopted country!

“Bloody good gene pool” says his father Stanley who adopted his very English surname from his English grandmother’s maiden name. He didn’t think that Grandpappie's name of “Osman Ali Wilfred Kemal” would cut much mustard amongst the respectable English gentry of the time; not because the gentry could ever be deemed racist but because the family would forever carry the burden of being seen as 'Johnnie Foreigner'.

But my darling love, Great Alexander was put through his paces at Eton where he came top at everything, and was predicted to go far. He told me on many an occasion how they called him “Turk Boy Johnson.” adding “You’ll go far and the further away back to Turkey the better”.

This might have discombobulated anyone else but my love ‘Bojiebabes’. He frequently tells me how he would fire back at them the words of some crusty old German philosopher. I think they went something like

'Was nicht mich umbringt macht mich zum Einzelgänger” (I do so love it when he talks 'dirty' in a foreign language)

”What does not kill me makes me a loner”

Whenever my ‘Mighty Man’ feels down, and up against it, these words come to his mind and he’s back there on top of it all.

I am so proud of how My Colossus has been fighting and fighting and fighting for the country, he loves, to free us up from those 'naysayer' Europeans, who only want to straighten our bananas and steal all the riches of the City of London.

“Brexit to all you crooks and deceivers' became Al's watchword. 

His old mate from Eton, Dave, thought that this was just 'My Man' blowing hot air. But my Alexander the Great faced 'Disastrous Dave' down; now he’s Prime Minister and our country is again free, free as a bird like the cuckoo that can take a nest away from any weaker bird (cos that's what Charles Dawkins says should happen “the strongest survive and the rest just, well die off”) And my Great Alexander is THE strongest of the strong.

All sorts of bad stories have been put about in the press about my Colossus. Our great friend and tower of strength Dom…..(I mean, of course, Mr Cummings since I was told not to be too familiar around him by Alexander)…..said “pay no attention to them Cazzie (his pet name for me). They are not weirdos just idiots and parasites.

There have been scurrilous stories that my Bozza can’t remember how many children he has or the names of his lovers down the years

What tosh; what utter bilgy bilge water.

It is sometimes true when we are in the height of bodily passion I will hear him cry out “I’m coming home, Petri” or sometimes “I’m the second coming Jenny-henny”. It does worry me that 'Petri' sounds suspiciously like one of his 'old flames' Petronella, while I remember reading in the gutter press that Bojji had a passing acquaintance with an American (or was it Pole) dancer called Jennifer Arcuri.

Al tells me that I should not listen to gossip or read the newspapers (except, of course,the Daily Torygraph). Needless to say, I melt when he looks me straight in the eye and tells me that he is a good and caring man, true and reliable. He tells me that I am his only 'Pet' and that 'Henny Penny' is just a character from a nursery rhyme, his nanny used to tell him. I feel reassured when Colossus tells me that he’s really sincere and always tells his version of the truth.('as does the whole Country', I muse.)

It is true that we did have a little tiff some months before my Greatness called the General Election - some weird little snitch of a neighbour reported us to the Police for 'over-loud hi-jinks'. (The course of true love and all that...) PC Plod soon decided that there was “No Case to Answer”. It was just a case of sour grapes - my little Bojo loves me and would do anything for me.(Al's own words!!) So boo to all these nasty people who are just jealous of my man and my achievement and success loving him, as I do.

I must confess my Heart is bursting with song

“He’s mine all mine and the country is his all his. Can it ever get better in life than that…………” (To the tune, the 'Fog on the Tyne')

At this point the Journal ends abruptly as if someone has interrupted the writer and terminated the story. We do , however, hope there may be more offerings exclusive to “Clemantics” from C.S, who just wants the world to know of her love and happiness with a ‘great’ man.

to be continued...