Dear Ruby Wax.

Dear Ruby,

Please help me. I'm so worried about Gordon. When I dumped Tony, after he started wearing make-up to bed,and a cardboard halo about the house, Gordon seemed so 'manly' with his talk of 'tough love' and 'clunking fists'. When I wrote to you last month about the way our relationship was deteriorating, you advised me to "Dump him". Well Ruby, its not as easy as you think. I'm a very 'needy' person, and need someone to move on to - and whenever anyone shows the slightest interest in me, Gordon gets his mates in to warn him off. He can come over quite frightening, especially since he's had his teeth whitened and started smiling all the time.

And Ruby, its getting worse. If I suggest a cuddle or an intimate supper he just recites "I've got to get on with the job, get on with the job, get on with the job". Its weird. He doesn't seem to realise that I'm one of the jobs he should be 'getting on with'. Last month one of Tony's friends offered us two weeks holiday on his luxury yacht. Chance to get to know each other again I thought. Gord went ballistic. "Miliband's behind this. I'm not falling for that old chestnut." he shouted, and immediately booked us into a Norfolk B and B. As soon as we left with our bags, we were told that this Miliband fellow was seen laughing like a drain as he took his own good lady off to the sun. And when I semi-complained that we deserved a bit more time together, he said "Its fortunate that I've been able to find some special time for you. That was very good of me. Now, I must get on with the job". That's what he says to these damn 'journos' that he hates so much. Surely I deserve better than that.

And now I have this ridiculous keep fit regime of his to contend with. He thinks it worked for Tony. I've tried to tell him that Tony never actually played for Newcastle United, and that playing tennis with Lord Cashpoint was more about fixing free holidays for Cherie than keeping fit. But No. Its press-ups at midnight and the treadmill at dawn. He keeps muttering something about "winning the marathon and no pipsqueak sprinter like Miliband is going to stop me". This morning, he's been practising waving a big flag shouting "This is the way to do it Boris". I think the poor sap's losing it.

Ruby, I've only been with him for just over a year and I loved him dearly for the first six months. I don't want to seem like a tart, so I'm trying to stay loyal. But I really think it could have gone too far. What should I do,

Yours in despair, Poppy Britannica.


Dear Poppy,

Dump him.

Yours with certainty, Ruby.