Can't decide whether to go to Edinburgh. Loads of people are going, but I'm supposed to be at the Alconbury's Tarts and Vicars party on Sunday. Also everyone will be more successful and having a better time than me.
Wednesday 23 August
Definitely going to Edinburgh. Una Alconbury called - ostensibly to tell me Geoffrey's in a state about people seeing his buddleia because of the hosepipe ban so they're delaying the Tarts and Vicars until the 2nd - but actually to say, "So, when are you going to get yourself married, then?" Also Daniel is working.
Thursday 24 August
I'm staying in London. I always think I'm going to enjoy going to Edinburgh, then end up only being able to get into the mime acts. Also, you dress for summer, then it's freezing cold and you have to teeter shivering for miles up cobblestone precipices, thinking everyone else is at a big party.
Friday 25 August
7pm I am going to Edinburgh. Today Perpetua said, "Bridget, this is absurdly short notice, but it's just occurred to me, I've taken a flat up there - I'd adore it if you wanted to stay ..." So generous and hospitable of her.
10pm Just called Perpetua and told her I'm not coming. It's all stupid. I can't afford it.
Saturday 26 August
8.30am Right, I'm going to have a quiet, healthy time at home. Lovely. I might finish The Famished Road.
9am Oh God, I'm so depressed. Everybody's gone to Edinburgh except me.
9.15am I wonder if Perpetua's left yet?
Midnight - Edinburgh
Oh God. I must go to see something tomorrow. Perpetua thinks I'm mad, She spent the entire train journey with the portable phone pressed to her ear, bellowing at the rest of us, "Arthur Smith's Hamlet is completely booked up, so we could go to the Coen brothers instead at five, but that means we'll be too late for Richard Herring. So shall we not go to Jenny Eclair ... - chuh! I frankly I don't know why she still bothers - and do Lanark, then try to get into Harry Hill or Bondages and Julian Clary. Hang on, I'll try the Gilded Balloon. No, Harry Hill's booked up, so shall we skip the Coen brothers?"
I said I'd meet them at the Plaisance at six because I wanted to go to the George Hotel and leave a message for Tom, and I bumped into Tina in the bar. I didn't realise how far it was to the Plaisance, and when I got there it had started and there were no seats left. Secretly relieved, I walked or rather abseiled back to the flat, picked up a lovely jacket potato with a chicken curry and watched Casualty. 1 was supposed to meet Perpetua at the Assembly Rooms at nine. By the time I was ready it was 8.45, but I didn't realise you couldn't ring out on the phone, so I couldn't book a taxi, and by the time I got there, it was too late. 1 went back to the George bar to look for Tina. I'd just got myself a Bloody Mary and was trying to pretend I didn't mind not having any friends when I noticed a flurry of lights and cameras in one corner and nearly screamed. It was my mother, done up like Marianne Faithfull and about to interview Alan Yentob. "Absolute quiet everyone!" she trilled in a Una Alconbury flower-arranging voice. "Action!!!! Tell me, Alan," she said, turning sepulchral, "Have you ever had ... suicidal thoughts?"
The telly's been quite good tonight, actually.
Sunday 27 August
2am Can't get to sleep. I bet they're all at a really nice party.
3am Perpetua's back, giving her verdict on the alternative comedians. "Puerile ... completely childish ... just silly." I think she might have misunderstood something somewhere along the line.
5am There is a man in the house. I can just tell.
6am He's in Debby from marketing's room. Blimey.
9.30am Woken by Perpetua bellowing: "Anyone coming to the poetry reading!!" Then it all went quiet, and I heard Debby and the man whispering and him going into the kitchen. Then Perpetua's voice boomed out: "What are you doing here?!! I said NO OVERNIGHT GUESTS."
2pm Oh my God, I've overslept.
7pm - King's Cross Train
Oh God ... I met Tina in the George at three. We were going to go to a Question and Answer session, but we had a few Bloody Mary's and remembered that Question and Answer sessions have a bad effect on us.You get hypertense trying to think up a question, putting your hand up and down, then finally get to ask it, in a semi-crouching position, and odd high-pitched voice, then sit frozen with embarrassment, nodding like a dog in the back of the car whilst a 20-minute answer is directed at you. Before we knew where we were, it was 5.30. Then Perpetua appeared with a whole bunch of people from the office.
"Ah, Bridget," she bellowed. "What have you been to see?" There was a big silence. "Actually, I'm just about to go to ..." I began confidently "... get the train."
"You haven't been to see anything at all, have you?" she hooted. "Anyway, you owe me pounds 75 for the room." " What?" I stammered. "Yes," she yelled. "It would have been pounds 50, but it's 50 per cent extra if there's two people in the room."
"But ... but, there weren't ..."
"Oh, come on, Bridget, we all knew you had a man in there," she bellowed. "Remember, dear, it isn't love, it's only Edinburgh. Don't worry, we won't tell Daniel."Reuse content