Gerda Claus contacted me through my web site last week. Like the majority of my clients, she already knew what she had to do and why. She simply came to me for permission to do it.

In her own words:

" I have spent a lifetime supporting my husband in his work and suddenly realised that my own life is passing by and I have never had any of the things I once dreamed about. All my concern and energy has gone to make his achievements possible, but he has never shown any real consideration for my needs. Whenever I ask for anything, I am told it is unnecessary or selfish and if I complain it is put down to my moods or hormones and I am accused of putting more pressure on him when he is already under stress.

But I have come to realise that he has everything he wants while I have nothing and that does not seem fair. In fact, I am beginning to get very angry about it.

Everyone sees him as such a saint. The whole world loves him. But no-one gives much thought to me.

He may well be happy on a diet of blubber and reindeer meat, but if I have to face one more dish of stewed lichen, I will not be responsible for the consequences. Anyway, he is now very overweight, starting with late-onset diabetes and high blood-pressure and on medication for both. Well, our sex-life was never what you might call adventurous, but now he is less interested than ever, and I have my doubts about his capability. When I suggested Viagra he told me that we are both old now and my appetites are depraved.

I always wanted children, you know, but he said we had an interest in all the children in the world and our work came first. Besides, our own children would have to go to boarding school and their moral characters might be ruined by other children trying to curry favour to get a better deal from their father. Being a celebrity entails a certain amount of sacrifice. Okay, but why does it always have to be my sacrifice?

I can’t buy anything for myself. There is always a cash flow problem, in spite of our royalties and advertising income, with so much electronic gear in demand these days. And, of course, a lot of our stuff is out of copyright after 50 years. Then there is no room on the planes which deliver our raw materials and fuel oil. He seems to think I should be content with reindeer skin mukluks and a leather apron, but he has these lovely fur-trimmed red fleece overcoats and cuts a fine figure. Then he says that is a necessary PR expense.

We never go anywhere. He says there is no point, when every direction from here is South. But I am sick to death of snow, snow and more snow.

It’s bad enough having to cook and launder for all the workmen. The barracks smell nearly as bad as the stables and the lovable image does not persist at close quarters. Far from being innocent and jolly, the dwarves are a crowd of cantankerous old men with filthy habits. Oh, yes, Santa has a high old time carousing with them, but my only companion is the one female reindeer. Even she has a problem. Well, ask yourself, how come Rudolph has such a red nose?

It’s not just "Ho, ho, ho, and a Merry Christmas to one and all." More like "Yo, ho, ho and a bottle ( or a couple of crates) of rum."

I have had enough of spending every Christmas on my own with him off making deliveries all around the world and the work-force sleeping off the exhaustion of the last-minute rush.

I want a divorce and my half of the proceeds will buy me a condo in California, a world cruise and a wardrobe like Imelda Marcos.

Then I am going to pamper myself, go to a health farm, enrol in the University of the Third Age, write my memoirs and sing. You know, singing harmonises and energises both body and mind. So this Christmas I will be enjoying Carol services, Pantomimes, and singles activities.

Yep, today is the first day of the rest of my life!"