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Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess

Page 35

by Kirsty Greenwood

Rose Beam’s Diary

19thApril 1985

Is it frivolous to reckon that I’ve met the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with? Oh, I don’t fricking care if it is frivolous. My whole body is fizzing. Even my elbows. It’s 3 a.m. and I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep with this feeling. It’s not just lust. Maybe a little lust, but mostly it’s a connection. I actually felt it like it was a physical thing! I sound so silly, I know, but I’m allowed to sound silly here, aren’t I? Let me tell you about him − I need to get it out onto this page so that I don’t forget. Ignore the scrawly handwriting!

So … his name is Thomas Truman. Thom. And I met him just five hours ago. Thom Truman. Isn’t that like the coolest name? I was at the Blue Canary with Victoria and we were dancing to this daft, energetic song by Whitney Houston. Then a tall, eccentric-looking guy strode across the dance floor and, of course, I assumed he was heading for Victoria because, well, they always do. But he came straight to me and leant in close. He said:

‘I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t dance with you tonight. Even if it is to this horrible song.’

Which is a tad excessive, I know, but he said it in such a non-sleazy, genuine kind of way. He had a northern accent, which I think helped with the sincerity. He’s not my usual type. His hair is dark and wavy and down to his chin! And he was wearing a patterned cravat, which I would normally loathe on any man, but on him it just looked cool and stylish. I would say he was a cross between Rob Lowe and Adam Ant, with a dash of David Bowie. But much better, if that makes sense? Of course I said yes, and we danced for the next three songs while looking at each other’s faces constantly. Later, Victoria was chatting up the DJ and so I sat down for a drink with Thom Truman. And you’ll never guess what? He’s an actor. I know! And not a jobless/resting/wannabe actor like me. He’s playing the part of Benvolio inRomeo and Julietat The Old Vic! He’s invited me to go and see him next week, and I don’t think I have ever been as excited for anything in my life. I hoped he would kiss me before V and I left for home, but he didn’t and now I feel like I will never have a good day again until I know how his lips taste.

Wow, listen to me. Probably in years to come I’ll look back on these diaries and think myself such a loser for getting so caught up with a man just five hours after meeting him. But I hope not. Something tells me I’m going to be seeing a lot more of Thomas Truman.

My arm is aching now so I shall leave you and get to bed where I will dream of TT’s dancing green eyes and try to get the Whitney Houston song out of my head.

R x