Knowing the Narcissist : When Harry´s Wife Met HG : Part 1

The first occasion I met Harry’s wife was back in 2016. I was drinking with a group of friends or non intimate secondary sources as I would describe them as and the group was a collection of individuals with backgrounds in sport and journalism with a couple from the military. The venue was a particular bar which was upmarket and lacked pretension save from some of its patrons. The venue of this bar is in London and tends to be associated with those involved in fashion and journalism. Which meant there’s often plenty of easy on the eye fodder combined with a fertile breeding ground for information whether true or speculative. It was a place that I had been to many times before and have been to several times since this actual meeting.

My friends and I were sat around a round table there were six of us in number and we had been drinking for a couple of hours. It was now approaching mid evening when one of my friends Jonno a football agent who worked for a sports agency based in Manchester and London leaned towards me and said,

“H.G., there’s a woman over there who I think wants your attention.”

He indicated with his glass behind me necessitating me turning in my seat. Three tables away I saw a lady waving to me with a large smile formed by her bright scarlet lips.

“It’s Susanna,” I remarked (not her real name, by the way).

Susanna is a journalist for one of the national newspapers. She is a rampant gossip, social butterfly, flirtatious, and an excellent writer. She knows how to write in the language of the hoi polloi, which has given her considerable success. We had a number of liasons a few years previously; I saw no use for her beyond being an intimate partner secondary source and she was certainly content with what she had been given and the maintenance of a friendship thereafter. I always of course kept the possibility of a return to intimacy alive to maintain her interest.

I turned back to my group of friends not even acknowledging Susanna which I knew would compel her to come to me in mild irritation at my lack of response.

“She’s coming over,” confirmed Jonno.

I felt the slight surge of satisfying fuel at this. And within a moment I smelled the always well perfumed Susanna before she appeared by my shoulder. You would always smell her before you saw her.

“Not speaking to me, H.G.?” she asked but with a laugh in her voice.

“Oh! Hello, Susanna,” I replied, rising to greet her. “I didn’t recognize you over there; I thought it was someone younger. Must be the light in here,” I remarked as we embraced.

“Wanker,” she hissed in my ear as she kissed my cheek.

I let out a short laugh of satisfaction at her response to my jibe.

“How are you?”, she asked.

“Flourishing,” I replied.

“And you?”

“Oh, marvelous. How’s Rachel?”, (Susanna also knows my sister).

We talked for a minute or two as I confirmed the status of my sister’s well being, although I was keen to find out what she actually wanted, as I find small talk tedious and boring.

“Come and have a drink with me,” urged Susanna, linking her arm with mine, as if to drag me across the room.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I looked back across the room to Susanna’s table where I could see two other women. One, dark haired. The other with ash blonde hair.

“Which one,” I asked. “Dark or light?”

“Dark,” she replied.

“Who’s she?”

“An actress; I know how you love actresses.”

“Who?,” I responded.

“Meghan Markle.”

I looked again across the room towards the dark haired woman who was now looking our way. She gave a toothy smile as if she recognized she was being spoken about. And then looked coqettishly down which struck me as somewhat incongruous, given her actual age.

“Never heard of her. She’s not one of Hannah’s lot, is she?” I replied. Hannah is an actress, a former intimate partner primary source of mine who I was seeing back in 2013. (You can read more about her in A Sense of Purpose)

“No, no” replied Susanna. “Meghan’s American.”

A septic, hmm. Susanna nodded. I looked again at the new acquisition. It was difficult to discern much about her as she was sat down. But she was slender, but not rake thin. Shiny, black brown hair which was worn long and straight. Makeup was mainly around the eyes, and she was wearing a simple dress which was fairly short and dark in colour. She glanced and noticed that I was looking across which then caused her to throw her head back as if the other lady, the blonde, had said something hilarious. But she clearly had not, judging by the blonde’s facial expression at that time.

“Yes, an actress,” I confirmed drily as I noticed that this woman then started to talk and bizarrely
started chopping the air in front of her like a pissed up ninja with her noticeably oversized hands.

“Come and say hello” urged Susanna.”She loves British men.”

“Thinks she’s Taylor Swift, does she?”

Susanna laughed.

“Let me finish my drink with these reprobates” I responded. “And then I’ll come over.”

“Marvelous” trilled Susanna as she clapped her hands together and skipped away back to her table like a girl who’d been told she’d made the cut to be a cheerleader.

I wasn’t bothered about finishing the drinks; I wanted time to find out who this Meghan Markle was. As always, every battle is won before it’s ever fought. I sat down.

“What does she want?” asked Jonno.

“Wants me to meet some actress friend of hers” I replied as I took out one of my several phones from my suit jacket.

I punched in a text message to Alastor AKI Meghan Markle and then sent the message. I returned the phone to my suit jacket and picked up my drink. I knew she was looking cross at me again, no doubt wanting me to turn to look at her. But I was not going to do anything at all until Alistor replied, with a briefing packet of information about this individual. I took a sip of my drink, listening to the buzz of conversation from my friends as I again acknowledged besides making them wait always pays dividends.

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