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waist-length honey-blonde hair, cheekbones
and pouty sexy mouth as she reclined on the bed, giving
Finn a come-hither look wearing the aforementioned
skimpy underwear. Valentine was only slightly comforted
by the next photo where the SGF was topless. Flat as a
pancake. But Valentine's feeling of superiority lasted less
than a few seconds as she reflected that these pictures did
not show a couple on the brink of a break-up. Jealousy
coursed through her and without thinking clearly she
deleted the photographs. Regret swiftly followed. She was
an idiot. If only she'd left them then every time Finn
looked at the pictures he would be reminded of what the
SGF hadn't got and remember Valentine's 'fantastic big
tits'. It just showed that stalking did not pay.
    Suddenly her own phone beeped. She quickly put
Finn's phone down, looking behind her guiltily to make
sure he hadn't woken up, but he was snoring quietly now.
She rifled in her bag for her mobile, praying the text
wasn't from Lauren asking her where the hell she was.
To her surprise the message was from Jack: Would it be wrong of me to tell you that I keep thinking of that kiss? Look forward to seeing you at rehearsal J x. That was unexpected.
She was flattered that Jack had texted her again. He was
very attractive and it was unusual in her experience for
a man to be so open about his feelings. And he had been
a good kisser. A very good kisser. But he was not for her.
Valentine got back into bed next to Finn and curled her
body round his. He hated being touched when he was
asleep and always protested that he got too hot. Sure
enough Finn immediately moved to the opposite side of
the bed, eluding her even in sleep. Valentine tried not to
mind too much. She was here, lying next to him on her
birthday; that was all that mattered.
    She was woken the following morning by Finn sliding his
hand over her breast and his insistent early-morning erection
pressing into her back, 'I must clean my teeth!' she
exclaimed, making a dash to the bathroom. 'Don't be
long!' Finn ordered, pulling off the duvet to show off the
good average standing to attention. Valentine hastily
washed her face and cleaned her teeth. This time Finn
was a more considerate lover, and took his time pleasing
Valentine. And then he'd rounded off his performance
by telling her he loved her. And that was exactly why, she
reflected on the Tube journey home, her body still
throbbing from their antics, she couldn't get him out of
her head.
    But by the time she got home, the ecstasy had been
replaced by the agony. She crept into her bedroom without
waking Lauren, swapped her dress for her PJs, then headed
for the kitchen and reached for the peanut butter. She
was never going to be a size six, so what was the point
of even trying?
    Lauren caught her as she shovelled toast into her
mouth. 'I'd go easy on that if I were you, V, given the
nipple-tassel situation,' she teased. Lauren never ate breakfast,
only drank black coffee and smoked a cigarette. Who
did she think she was, a bloody French existentialist?
    Valentine shrugged; she was well on her way to the
familiar pit of misery that followed a meeting with Finn
and nothing could stop her now. 'Where are you off to
anyway?' she asked through a mouthful of toast, seeing
that Lauren had her coat on.
    'I've got some modelling job; it's bound to be shit,' Lauren
replied bitterly. She loathed modelling but it was good money
and given her stunning looks she found it fairly easy to get
work when she wasn't acting. She generally took her revenge
by seducing the best-looking male model on the set. Lauren
had the most amazing sexual confidence. She really did
believe she could have any man she wanted, and her beauty
helped her have her way. She was also a serial seducer, who
couldn't see the point of relationships and turned her nose
up whenever Valentine, a hopeless romantic, told her that
she simply hadn't met the right man yet.
    'Stop porking out!' Lauren ordered, walking out of