LIZ JONES: I’ve had an email from a mysterious admirer. Am I being catfished? Or should I reply?

I wrote a couple of weeks ago about how much I hate Instagram asking us to like and share in order to have millions drop in our bank account within minutes, which never comes to pass. Another common post on my feed is from tarot readers, who always promise, ‘A wealthy man who has already built a great life has been watching you from afar, and he is obsessed with you. He will contact you now if you share this post and press the red heart…’

You are not going to believe this, but one night recently it actually came true.

I was watching the US Open, girding my loins to carry Pissy Missy up to bed, when I received this email.

‘Hiya Liz. I can’t believe I’m doing this. A late-midlife epiphany, I guess. Although I have always admired you from afar. Once, quite close, when I glimpsed you in Soho House but I was with my frightful wife who was monitoring my eye movements. It was definitely you. You’re quite distinct: chic and urbane, fearless and formidable, always prepared to pop your head above the parapet. I wish I had your steel. But I’ve been weak, and now I’m paying the price. I can’t even say I was young and foolish, unless you consider 59 to be young.’

He went on to tell me how he married a sex kitten and never once considered a pre-nup, against the advice of incredulous friends. ‘I was puppyish with lust; she saw the pound signs.’

In three years, she never once retracted her claws, spitting vitriol. They got divorced, he started drinking, made mistakes and lost his beautiful London mansion with its oak candelabra you can swing from like in The War Of The Roses, though ‘this was a war I lost’. A garden full of ‘black dahlias, blue rhododendrons, gardenias, camellias, hibiscus, azalea, agapanthus, fig trees, cherry blossom, magnificent tulip magnolias and soothing white wisteria’. I’ve never dated a man who has noticed a garden before.

She took his Beluga Bentley as well, though not his future earnings from his career in high finance.

‘I have moderated my drinking, but a glass of chablis can still trigger stuff. It’s not all doom and gloom. I was left some scraps to play around with: a London skyline flat by the river, a car and a holiday villa by a beautiful harbour in Spain.’

He continued, ‘My blood is hot, my heart sings with empathy, which is how I found comfort in your column. Your torments with Neil seemed to mirror my torments with X. Neil leeched off you, abused your generosity, humiliated you, lied to you, fed you false dreams. We both staked everything on an idyllic future that was cruelly snatched away. We gave, they took. Worse, we have both lost our dream dwellings and know deep down that we will never get them back. If nothing else, we have this in common. It would appear a golden opportunity for bonding has arisen.

‘I’m confident I could secure a reservation at Grand Divan, the ground floor of Simpson’s in the Strand. I’m a pescatarian, but a vegan friend told me the sweet potato and spinach curry is divine. Perhaps I’m being presumptuous.

‘If you asked me what my most attractive feature is, I would reply: I believe that paradise is just around the corner. Love abounds. X’

I showed the email to Nic, who came up blank putting his name into Google, wondered how on earth he had got my personal email and warned me not to reply: ‘Talk about too much information. At least last week’s man sent a photo, even if he did attach some porn by mistake.’

Tell me, am I being catfished? Should I draft a reply? I do love Spain. What does everyone think I should do?

JONES MOANS… WHAT LIZ LOATHES THIS WEEK

I’ve not claimed for Missy, who I rescued in 2019, until recently. She is now on heart medication and a diuretic. She has always been insured with Petplan. They have sent me this email: ‘You’ll see your premium has increased more than usual. This allows us to help pets like Missy to get the care they need.’ It has increased from £62.37 a month to £89.81!