Under the Covers

Browsing the papers last night I came across this article in the Guardian.

"Former lovers of undercover officers sue police over deceit" 

It reveals, "Eight women who say they were duped into forming long-term loving relationships with undercover policemen have started legal action against police chiefs, alleging that they have suffered intense emotional trauma and pain."

You may remember the case of 'rogue' undercover cop Mark Kennedy earlier this year when all sorts of people got their collective knickers in a twist about the rights and wrongs of telling lies. "Ooh," they said, "you big fibber!" Them lefties, eh? What are they like? Next you know they'll be making out phone hacking is wrong!

Anyway, these women went on to say the undercover coppers, "deliberately and knowingly deceived" them into forming intimate relationships of up to nine years by concealing their real identities. As a result they suffered from psychiatric and psychological 'injuries' including depression, trauma, anxiety, anger and a difficulty to trust people again. This because they had believed "they had met a true friend with whom they might share a long-term future."

Bloody hell, they're just describing courtship and marriage aren't they? I bet a lot of divorced women would give an arm to have got nine year's-worth from their hugely expensive, depressingly optimistic, most expensive day of their lives. Nine years is practically a life sentence in today's terms!

But their big complaint is that lies were told to them! Somebody should tell them that men lie. It's in our nature. We can't help it and if the prospect of a shag is in the offing the lies can become downright outrageous. If the special forces had half the number of personnel that night-club Romeos claimed we could take over Europe in a bloody coup without breaking into a sweat. If the country had as many successful businessmen as the pages of Dateline suggest we could solve the financial crisis with a couple of cheques. And no Premier League club would ever have to look abroad for star quality, given that half the blokes in every pub in the land have been up for professional football trials.

What woman has not yearned to believe the lie, "I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you!"

Weirdly, the lies here were the opposite of the ones men usually tell, down-playing their real action-man roles and quietly fitting in - something that most women in relationships spend half their lives plotting to achieve for their men. As for the trauma, the weeping and wailing the loss of trust, isn't that just the plot of every soap opera, every single week? And every other article in every other chick's mag? Men!

But listen love, stop your weeping and I'll tell you a secret. Now, nobody is supposed to know this, but you look like a woman I can trust with my life... ;o)