Gullible

Popped round to Dad's this afternoon. For a man so well travelled he can be surprisingly small minded, referring to my brief interlude with Lena as nothing more than 'a chat'. He obviously cannot understand the obvious nuances in her body language, I tried to describe the way she giggled softly behind a veil of soft blonde hair. I tried to tell him about how she tripped over the French language with her broad Lancashire accent and flat vowels but it was to no avail.
Dad was far more interested in my impending court case with Duncan Blackhorn. Duncan has been formally charged with fraud after he impersonated Simone Loving and managed to shoe horn over five hundred pounds from my bank account. Yes I know I willingly paid it into his account but had I known I was paying the money to an overweight man mountain in a fancy shirt and not a scantily clad young lovely I would have ceased payment immediately. In fact I would not have paid him at all. Its all a mess and I'm rather nervous about giving evidence as I fear my somewhat lifeless love life may be aired for all in the court room to hear. My solicitor is eager to paint me as a desperate, gullible figure of loneliness with only his PC for company. And I fear that is what I am.