Jennifer Arcuri, didn’t you have any clue your affair with   Bonking Boris Johnson wasn’t going to last?

Jennifer Arcuri, didn’t you have any clue your affair with Bonking Boris Johnson wasn’t going to last?

March 30, 2021

WHEN vivacious American business­woman Jennifer Arcuri first popped up on the media radar she refused to discuss the exact nature of what was then being described as her “close friendship” with Boris Johnson.

Then, after being ghosted by the now PM somewhere between the end of his marriage to Marina Wheeler and his latest relationship with Carrie Symonds, she upped the ante.

“I’ve been nothing but loyal, faithful, supportive and a true confidante of yours. I’ve kept your secrets and I’ve been your friend,” she said in a TV interview in November 2019.

“And I don’t understand why you’ve blocked me and ignored me as if I was some fleeting one-night stand or some girl that you picked up at a bar, because I wasn’t — and you know that.

“And I’m terribly heartbroken by the way that you have cast me aside like I am some gremlin.”

She stopped short of officially confirming an affair but added ominously: “Why would I remain silent if you can’t even speak to me?”

At the time, I wrote in this very column: “Prime Minister, you have been warned.”

Hell hath no fury like a woman (or man) discarded and ignored so, one pandemic and a couple of lockdowns later, Jennifer’s floodgates have now opened.

“He couldn’t keep his hands off me,” she revealed at the weekend, claiming there was a mutual “physical and intellectual attraction” between them and they were “in an intimate relationship for four years”.

She claims they had sex on his family sofa while his then wife Marina was at work, read Shakespeare as foreplay (as you do) and that she sent him an, ahem, “arty” nude photo of herself.

And just in case she needed proof of her presence in his family home, she had the foresight to take a selfie in his kitchen.

Oh dear. Boris, as ever, refuses to confirm or deny anything to do with his colourful private life.

The only comment he has made about Jennifer is to deny any impropriety regarding the £126,000 of public money given to her tech company while he was London Mayor, a matter that will be investigated by the London Assembly’s oversight committee after the latest mayoral elections on May 6.

But the suddenly talkative Jennifer is clearly furious at being tossed aside as merely another notch on his bedpost.


Can she seriously claim she didn’t see the signs though? The devil is in the detail.

For their first “date”, he turned up dishevelled in a cycling helmet and asked to borrow £3.10 for their drinks.

And when he invited her to his house for “cheesy pasta” — a dish best suited to a four-year-old’s playdate — she must have suspected it was merely a lame precursor to sex.

Particularly when he had to pop out to the shops (which is when she took the selfie) because he’d forgotten the cheese. Call me old-fashioned, but neither scenario suggests a man who’s making an effort to impress.

When all’s said and done, it seems that despite Jennifer clearly believing it was something more, to the mercurial Boris she was a mere distraction before his attentions moved elsewhere and she was left out in the cold.

And now it’s become a classic kiss and tell.

Those spilling the beans rarely do so when the affair is ongoing because they’re still basking in the superficial warm glow that being in the company of someone famous can give you

But once they’ve been sidelined to a spot in the shade and, to add insult to injury, see their ex-lover’s life continued on an upward trajectory, the desire to dish up revenge suddenly becomes very hot indeed.

One suspects that as Bonking Boris won an election despite voters knowing his checkered personal life, these latest revelations won’t make any difference to whatever his popularity rating is these days.

Meanwhile, Jennifer is clearly an intelligent, go-getting woman who is now happily married with a four-year-old daughter and living back in the States.

I don’t blame her for feeling angry enough to spill the full beans. But I think she might one day regret it.

Prince Chimpo

Prince Harry is now a “chimpo”.

Which, apparently, is how the Americans refer to the role of chief impact officer.

Quite what or how he’ll be “impacting” is anyone’s guess, but this is just one of the trendy, La-La Land job titles that are slowly making their way across the Atlantic to these shores.

Another is CIDO (chief inclusion and diversity officer, as you ask) and word has it that The Queen is about to appoint one after the recent, highly controversial “recollections may vary” incident.

Others include CHO (chief happiness officer), data ethnographers (nope, me neither) and, my absolute favourite of all, a “mood manager”.

Imagine it. A plush office, company car and six-figure salary, and all you have to do when someone wanders in for a whinge is say: “Cheer up mate, it might never happen.”

Where do I sign?

Chris’s life is plain sailing

Rumours abound that Chris Martin and Dakota Johnson are engaged.

If so, it will be welcome news for his ex-wife Gwyneth Paltrow, who has since remarried and says of Dakota: “I love her. I can see how it would seem weird because it’s sort of unconventional . . . ”

As “conscious uncouplers” go, I find their attitude admirable – particularly when children are involved.

As for being unconventional, they have some way to go to beat Brits Barrie and Tony Drewitt-Barlow.

Are you paying attention? Right, Barrie and Tony were married and had five children, one of them being a daughter called Saffron, now 21.

Saffron was dating 27-year-old Scott Hutchison, who then fell in love with Barrie. Barrie and Scott now have a five-month-old daughter together.

Meanwhile, Tony is now in love with his former cancer nurse Brent.

On the latest episode of Below Deck: Sailing Yacht, the whole family chartered the boat and, as there weren’t enough bedrooms to go round, Barrie and Scott shared the master suite with Tony and Brent.

Now that’s unconventional.

‘Press room’

THE new “press room” at No10 cost an eye- watering £2.6million.


A couple of trips to Ikea and one of those souvenir shops on Oxford Street and I could have knocked it up for £2,000 for cash, guv.

Please give us a break

Mother Nature has gifted most of us with beautifully sunny weather for the first easing of the latest lockdown.

And what a tonic (in my case, with gin) it is.

On Monday, me and five of my Loose Women colleagues enjoyed a picnic outside the TV studios, the local parks were full of young people emerging from their chrysalis of virtual captivity and beaches around the country were crammed with swimsuited, lockdown bodies resembling the last chicken in the shop.

While the sun is out, the novelty of outdoor socialising will sate our wanderlust.

But the second the grey skies move back in, our thoughts will turn to sunnier climes and the prospect of a cheeky rosé on the Costa Fortune.

So let’s hope that, on April 5, common sense prevails when the travel taskforce reports back to the PM and summer holidays abroad are permitted – with, of course, sensible measures in place.

With Covid deaths down 95 per cent from the peak, and the airline industry struggling to survive, it’s illogical to keep us both grounded.

Reality cheque

We have long been accustomed to the idea of renting, rather than buying, a fancy outfit for a special occasion.

But now brace yourself for “virtual fashion”.

Gucci is the first designer brand to create paid-for fashion that doesn’t actually exist – you just use a camera filter to “try on” a pair of trainers you can then pose in for Instagram.

One fashionista predicts that within a decade we could actually attend parties in a “virtual ballgown” that other guests will see through special glasses – while in reality we’re wearing a baggy tracksuit.

Let joy (and our waistbands) be unconfined.

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