A Question Of Love

Dear Diary....

Jamie had kept a diary for as long as she could remember. In her childhood, it was simply a way to make sense of the world around her. In her teens it was a way to put down on paper all the angst and romance and heartbreak that a girl went through and in adulthood, it had come to be a simple matter of keeping her hectic schedule on track. Or so she told people.

Secretly, her diary was her way of staying sane. The reason for her insanity? A man. Not just any man. THE man. The God, the Soldier, the King, the all-around perfect human being that was Thomas Hiddleston. She'd never met him, never spoken to him, and in all honesty, probably never would. But, without a shadow of a doubt, she thought more of him than any other man she'd ever met. And she'd met a few. Well, you didn't get to thirty-odd without having a few dates now and again. She'd been in love, once or twice, even come close to making things official, but somehow true happiness seemed to have evaded her. So her diary was a refuge of sorts, not a fantasy exactly, more a detailed description of her decent into cynical spinsterhood - a bit like Bridget Jones but with less sarcasm and more Marvel quotes.

Not that she was bitter, far from it. She was happily single, just her, her cat Oakley, and a cherished collection of memorabilia. As she walked round the house, looking for Oakley to feed him, her eyes flitted over the DVDs, the collectibles, and the sundry posters that were carefully framed in her little office. Her "shrine" as her family like to teasingly call it. She was doing no-one any harm, she said. It was purely escapism from her stressful job. No, she wasn't in love with someone she'd never met, and yes, she could exist without him. She just chose not to. With a smile, she closed the office door and turned to see Oakley - another source of teasing from her best friend Mandy since she'd named him for one of Tom's early roles - washing his "bits" on the stairs.

"Have a bit of dignity, would you? What WOULD Tom think if he could see his namesake being so gross?" she laughed, and Oakley just looked her up and down. With a silent shrug, he stood and marched into the kitchen, yowling loudly for his tea. Jamie laughed and followed him. As she emptied a pack of food into his bowl, her phone pinged, and she looked over to see her friend Mandy's face pop up with a message. Giving the little Orange Tabby a quick pat, she sat on a kitchen chair and opened the phone.

'YOU NEED TO CHECK OUT THAT TWH FB SITE YOU FOLLOW. COMPETITION RIGHT UP YOUR STREET. GET ONTO IT, GIRL!!" was all it said. How did Mandy even know? Did she secretly follow him, too?

'OK, THANKS, WILL DO. SEE YOU TOMORROW LOVELY!' They always texted each other in capitals. It was a standing joke about hearing each other from miles away. Mandy lived in London and Jamie in Scotland. She was flying down for a long weekend since Mandy now worked as 'something financial in The City'.

'YOU BET. CAN'T WAIT. GOT LOTS PLANNED. BRING YOUR TRAINERS WE'LL BE WALKING - ALOT!! SEE YOU AT THE AIRPORT. NITE X'

Jamie put the phone down and looked over at Oakley, who was polishing off the last of his food. "Well, Oakley old son, Mrs Walker, from next door will be in to see you tomorrow. Try not to con her into too many sweeties, ok?" she smiled, and Oakley came and rubbed her legs with an innocent expression. He was nothing if not a great actor like his namesake.

Walking through to the living room, she flopped into the plush sofa. Resting her legs over the arm, she lay back and opened her laptop, summoning up the witchcraft of Facebook. How many hours of her life had she lost on this thing , she wondered? Too many. This time, though, she had purpose. Clicking on her favourite page, she scrolled until she found the post Mandy had been talking about.

"Ask Me Anything - your chance to ask Tom Hiddleston a question and get a personal answer." The best 10 Questions would be chosen, and the authors invited to ask them in person in a face to face meet and greet. Jamie smiled sadly and felt a little pang of despair. Loyal fan she may be, responsible accountant she may be, loving cat mum she may be, but lucky? No. That was NOT on her list of attributes. She was the single most unlucky person she knew. The week she won the lottery - quite literally - so had half the country. Rather than life changing sums of money, she got a nice little holiday in Tenerife for her and Mandy and a pair of Louboutin shoes. Shoes she'd never yet had an occasion to wear. Ah well, in for a penny... Dutifully, she filled in the form and pressed send. At least when Mandy asked, she could honestly say she'd entered.

As she closed the laptop and turned on the tv, she wondered if she really was destined to be a crazy cat lady in her old age. The thought made her smile. There were many who would say she was already there. As Oakley wandered in and jumped on her lap, she stroked his head absentmindedly. Oh well, there were worse ways to go she supposed. She turned up the volume and lay back, as she dozed off, she missed the fact that on the chat show she'd turned over to, a certain handsome English actor was being interviewed about his new film. Yep, she was definitely not the winning type. Was she?