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Tilebury Events - What's going on and how'd it go?

Fiona Davies

1 March

Blind Date Triumph

Genius? Moi?

Event of the decade? Legend? You're too kind.

Tell me you're not impressed. Go on - if you can. Tell me you aren't jealous. Oh! So, so brilliant. And - yes I am being just too modest.

Well, in case there is anyone out there you can possibly not know (and also for posterity - and no I am not talking about Miss Bump's rear end - I'm talking about the anals of history) the Tilebury Valentine Blind Date was a teeny-weeny success.

So, did you get my clues? After party? Two weeks of filming left on 1 Feb? Big Vally-day love fest? Special venue. Then all the pink-heart posters popping up overnight everywhere in the Village? Special guests, Once in a lovetime opportunity.

Heartbeat by heartbeat account

Turnout was cool - thanks for all the lovely luscious ladies (plus Miss Bump) who packed the New Inn saloon to bid on our batchelors. I'm sure you'll all agree that my auctioneer impression was professional-ness itself - I should get into the used car market (if I could afford a car - Mum?).

I've never seen so many screaming wannabe dates and such a Oestrogen Landslide. The boys hadn't either. Poor lambs looked totally terrifed!! Hee, Hee! I'm sure they've recovered and are doing their duty in the restaurants of Casterbridge with truffles and champers. If not - let me know and I'll bash them with the thorny-ends of their roses 'til they sort themselves out.

Well and also congrats-extreme to little Mel who landed the ultimate Jim Keegen prize. You're a richer girl than I knew Mel - but one with taste on what you spend it on, I'll give you that. Hope you weren't expecting xmas cards from some of the catty kittens who couldn't match your wallet!

And what of poor Fi? All that work she'd put in organising! All evening shouting herself horsy-hoarse over the roar of bids? Well it was only fair I got a free pass into the surprise blind-date as thanks for all that work, eh? And if I happened to get chosen - well that was up to our batchelor. Nothing to do with me...

I can still hear the buzz when we announced our final batchelor would choose his date from three contestants behind a screen. Who could it be? Who was left? Hadn't all the village muscles been auctioned already?

And then a quick dip in the fishbowl of names for the contestants. Me - well I was in as organiser. And Abi. Abi - thanks, I know it wasn't your thing but thanks for being a good sport and playing along. And good old Kimberley our village fix-it.

And then stepping out of the after-party being held in the New-Inn's back-room. Our Batchelor. Who could it be?

Who indeed? Who but the international star, multi-millionaire and heart throb - Leofric smouldering sexbomb Gent. Three ladies to choose from. Three rounds. Who would the Gent want to go on a date with?

Where would you go on our date? Loved your answer Abi - set the tone, I think he got the hint "Somewhere with my boyfriend - I'd tell you the morning after where we were". Kim, darling - your van is not really an option for a roadtrip - soz.

What do you wear in bed? "My boyfriend's pyjamas" - subtle, Abi. Kimberley-darling, do you really wear all that? Can't you fix the radiator in your bedroom?

And the photo round. I just happened to have taken a nice little selfie that morning (what a lucky coincidence). Abi - you do look hot in that purse photo of you and your boy. So, of course, does he. Kim - really, your driving licence doesn't do you justice. It doesn't capture your powerful figure for a start.

I was so shocked and delighted to win. I'm going up to London tonight to claim my prize. Some little place called Ivy's or Irene McVie's or The Ivy or something.

Coming up?

March. March. Must be something. Won't compare to the blind date though. Something here in my bulging post sack about a village charity meeting but that sounds dull. I'll work out what's happening when its happening and tell you about it next month.

Love you all.

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