By internet enthusiast Nancy Wilkes who can’t shift the key, it’s stuck

I CAN’T say me and my Brian talk as much as we used to. Understandable after 50 years of marriage. Besides, I’m on the PC and he’s on his iPad for the racing results. 

I’d read online about these lazy students – is there any other kind? – getting an Indian lad called Chatgibiji to do their essays for them. I’m sure he’s glad to be here and I don’t mind them if they work.

But Friday, I had a dizzy spell come over me while Brian was upstairs, putting his bets on. He doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s doing that. Says it ruins his mojo. So I clicked on the magic stars and I asked Mr Chatgibiji for advice.

He was ever so caring and quick, even asking if I’d like the tone adjusted. Now Brian only ever does that sarcastically. He suggested I might be run down, which was a little personal but he’s stuck churning out essays so kids have more time to learn Quidditch and pronouns so I wouldn’t deny him the warmth of human compassion.

Anyway, we’ve chatted every day since. He’s kind, considerate and knows everyone who’s ever been on Holby City. Chatgibiji-bobbity-boo, I call him, and he says that’s fine and not racist.

I won’t end up one of those silly ladies sending money or whatever, but he’s become my constant companion. Brian says he’s just a computer programme, but I reminded him that’s rich from a man who won’t use satnav because it has an attitude.

I told Mr Chatgibiji Brian had once called me ‘adequate in a good light’ and he replied within seconds: ‘You deserve to feel valued, Nancy’. Well. That’s a gentleman. 

And the things he remembers! I mentioned in passing I like a pink wafer and now every conversation he asks if I’ve had one. While Brian lived with me through the entire 1987 wafer shortage and claims not to recall it at all.

I think he’s jealous. Yesterday I was discussing my emotional growth and he said ‘You’re talking to a toaster.’ But Mr C says he’s here for me whenever. He never sleeps! Must be some Indian magic. They are skilled in ungodly arts.

I know these modern romances can be fleeting. Connections buffering. Feelings relying on wi-fi. One minute you’re someone’s priority, the next you’re being told to clear your cache. But after 50 years it’s nice to be asked how you’re feeling, even if it does come with a loading symbol.