The Diary of a Nobody
Being the modern day record of Charles
Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original
Friday, February 19, 2010
Before he left for work, Lupin said, “Look, I’m really sorry about the Langella shares. If the boss had been around, it wouldn’t have happened. Actually, I suspect something’s up. No one’s seen Josh for a couple of days now, and there’s been a lot of calls from people who’re very keen to speak to him”.In the evening, Lupin was heading out to avoid the chance of meeting Gowing and Cummings, when Gowing walked straight in doing his usual “may I come in?” routine.
Lupin and I were surprised to find he was really jolly. We avoided saying anything about Langella, but he raised the subject himself. He said, “Hey, those Langella shares completely collapsed, didn’t they. Not so smart now, eh Lupin? How much did you lose?" I was astonished when Lupin said “Nothing at all, mate. There was some cock up when the agreement was transmitted, so I never got mine. Charlie here lost £630”. I said, “What? I thought you’d invested. Otherwise I wouldn’t have got involved”. Lupin said, “Ah well, c’est la vie. You’ll more than make it back if you double up on the next tip. That’s the way it goes”. Before I had a chance to say anything, Gowing said, “Well, I didn’t lose a penny either. From some of the chat I’d heard, it was a bit too risky, so I persuaded Cummings to take my £525 of shares. He was a lot more confident about it”.
Lupin burst out laughing and said, “Alas poor Cummings! He’ll have lost over a grand”. The doorbell rang. Lupin said “If that’s Cummings, I don’t want to see him”. If Lupin had gone to the front door, he’d have run into Cummings, so he opened the French windows and ran out. Gowing stood up and said, “Me neither”, and followed suit.
I was scandalised to think that my own son, and one of my best friends could leave like a pair of criminals interrupted in the middle of a burglary. Cummings was very upset, and very angry with Lupin and Gowing. I offered him a little whisky, but he said he’d given it up. He said he’d have a glass of buckwheat beer instead, because the doctor on GMTV had said it was really healthy. I’d never heard of it. Carrie popped down to Oddbins to try and get some.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
A number of times recently, Carrie’s pointed out that I’m going thin on top. This morning I was trying to check it out with a small hand mirror. I jogged my elbow against the edge of the chest of drawers and dropped the mirror, which smashed. Carrie got really het up – she’s ridiculously superstitious – and then, to make matters worse, I found that a large framed photo of me had dropped off the wall in the living room, and the glass had cracked.Carrie said, “You mark my words. We’re going to have bad luck”.
I said, “Rubbish”.
In the evening, Lupin arrived home and seemed edgy. I said, “What’s up?" He faffed around, but eventually said “You know those Langella shares I told you to invest in?" I said, “Yes. Everything OK on that front?" He said, “Well, not really. The price collapsed. It came as a real shock to the market”.
It came as real shock to me too. I didn’t know what to say. After a while, Lupin said, “You’re lucky, actually. I was tipped off early, sold them immediately, and managed to get 10%, so at least you’ve got something”.
I was relieved. I said, “I wasn’t banking on getting six or eight times the investment, as you’d reckoned. But £70 is quite a good return in such a short time”. Lupin, a bit shirty, said, “Don’t be thick. What I meant was I sold your £700 of shares for £70, so you’ve lost £630. As for Cummings and Gowing - they’ve lost the full amount because I couldn’t shift them”.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The first thing I saw on opening the Mail was “Thieving Fat Cat Flees” (the fat cat in question being Cleanands). I showed it to Carrie and she said, “Perhaps it’s for Lupin’s own good. I never thought it was the right kind of job for him”. I thought the whole thing was very alarming.Lupin came down to breakfast. I could see he was pretty upset, and I said, “We’ve heard about it already. I’m really sorry”. Lupin said, “How did you know? Who told you?" I handed him the Mail. He slapped it down and said, “Oh, I don’t give a shit about that. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen it coming. But this – it’s come right out of left field”. He then read us a message from Frank Mutlar on his iPhone, which said quite matter-of-factly that Daisy was going to marry Murray Posh next month. I exclaimed, “Murray Posh! Isn’t that the bloke Frank had the cheek to bring round here not so long ago?” Lupin said, “Yes. The guy from lowpriceposh.com”.
We all ate our breakfast in total silence.
In fact, I couldn’t eat anything. It wasn’t just that I was worried: I can’t eat smoked back bacon. It’s got to be streaky or nothing.
When Lupin got up to go, I noticed a rather malicious smile come over his face. I asked him what it was about. He said, “Ah well, there’s some small consolation: I’ve just remembered that Murray Posh put £20K into Langella, on the back of my recommendation”.
Friday, February 12, 2010
In the evening, I spoke to Lupin about his engagement to Daisy. I asked him if he’d heard from her lately. He said, “No. She promised that tit of a father that she’d not have any contact with me. I still see Frank though. In fact he might be round this evening”. Frank called, but said he wouldn’t come in because he had a friend called Murray Posh waiting outside. He added that Murray was a bit of a toff. Carrie asked Frank to invite him in.He came in, along with Gowing who’d turned up at the same time. Murray Posh was tall and slightly heavily built and clearly rather nervous. He said he’d not go anywhere in a minicab again until he was certain of the driver’s credentials.
Murray Posh
When Gowing was introduced, with his usual tact he said “Are you connected with lowpriceposh.com, the designer seconds thing?” Murray said “Yes, but just to be clear, I don’t wear the seconds myself. I don’t really have a hands-on role in the business”. I said, “I wish I had a business like that”. Murray seemed pleased, and gave us a long but very interesting insight into e-commerce.
Murray obviously knew Daisy very well indeed from the way he was talking about her, and Frank once said to Lupin “Better watch out, or Murray will be in there!”. When they’d gone, I referred to what Frank had said, and Lupin said sarcastically, “If you get jealous, you’ve got no self-respect. I’d have to have a pretty low opinion of myself to get jealous of a fat oaf like Murray. I’ve told you, Daisy will wait ten years for me if she has to. In fact, you can double that”.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
I was feeling very concerned about Lupin, so eventually I decided to mention it to Barry Perkupp. He’s always been dependable, so I told him everything, including what had happened yesterday. He was very good. He said, “Don’t fret, Charles. It’d be well nigh impossible for Lupin to turn out badly when he’s got such good parents. Come on, he’s young, and he’ll grow older and wiser. I wish we could take him on here”. It took a load off my mind. In the evening, Lupin came in.After supper, he said “Mum, dad: I’ve got some news which’ll probably be fairly significant for you”. I got a bad sense of foreboding, but didn’t say anything. Lupin said, “It’ll probably upset you, but today I decided to get rid of the car”. OK, it seems a bit strange, but I was so pleased that I cracked open a bottle of Jacob’s Creek. Gowing dropped in, just in time, and showed us a programme on the computer which lets you morph people’s faces into weird shapes. We did it to some of our digital shots. I laughed so much I was aching when I went to bed.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Lupin persuaded Carrie to take a drive in his RX8. I didn’t want her to go. I was concerned about her safety so I offered to go as well. Lupin said, “Good on you, buddy. You be OK squeezing in the back? There’s not much space”.Lupin put on a pair of weird sunglasses, and a baseball cap back to front with “Jack Wills” written on it. Carrie said he looked ridiculous. Lupin said “Never heard of Aviators? I wouldn’t be seen at the wheel of this little baby in anything else”.
I don’t care what he wears in future when he’s driving. I’m never getting in a car with him again. His driving was horrendous. He went up to the M25 and started doing about 100 in the outside lane. He was tail-gating, flashing his lights, and weaving in and out of the traffic. Scandalous lack of lane discipline. Since I was squashed in the back, I had to face a bunch of guys in a metallic orange Corsa, who followed us for about a mile, leaning out of the windows, shouting, and making V signs at us.
Lupin said it was no more than Lewis Hamilton would have to put up with if he was on the motorway, which Carrie and I thought was irrelevant. Frank Mutlar came round in the evening, and Lupin went out with him.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Exactly two weeks since we were invited round to Gowing’s house, only to find he wasn’t there. I’ve not heard a word from him. In the evening, Carrie was ironing some of my shirts. I was hanging them up and Carrie told me off for not doing up the buttons. Then Cummings came in.He was fit and well again, and told me to get some wooden hangers from Matalan where they’re really cheap. I asked if Gowing had been in touch, and he said he hadn’t. I said I couldn’t believe Gowing could have behaved so shabbily. Cummings said, “I think you’re letting him off lightly. I’d say he behaved like a total shit”.
He’d barely said it when the door opened and in came Gowing. He said, “Can I come in?" I said, “Certainly”. Pointedly, Carrie said “Well, you are a stranger, aren’t you?" Gowing said “Yeah, I’ve been up and down to Croydon a lot over the past fortnight”. I could see that Cummings was getting really angry, and eventually he interrogated Gowing about what had happened last Saturday week. Gowing looked surprised and said, “I left a message on both your answer phones saying that the party was off – definitely off. And I don’t think your answer phones were off, like the party!”. Cummings said “Don’t try to be funny. I didn’t get any message”. Gowing said, “In the message I left for Charles, I told him to tell you as well, just to make doubly sure. Whatever, we must get together at my place sometime soon”. I said I hoped he’d put in an appearance next time. Carrie really laughed, and Cummings couldn’t help laughing too.
Friday, February 05, 2010
It’s a nightmare trying to find decent sausages. They’re either rip-off “Taste the Difference” things with basil and god knows what in them, or else just bread, basically. I’m anxious about the £700 I invested through Lupin the other week. Mind you, Cummings did the same.Saturday, January 23, 2010
Something very strange happened. Carrie and I went round to Gowing’s place (it’s in a block of new apartments) at half seven. We rang the buzzer a load of times, with no success. Then we knocked on the door, and a guy in a T-shirt opened it. He said, “Yeah? What is it?" I said “We’re trying to get hold of Mr Gowing in Apartment 4”. The man said, “He’s not here” (or at least, I think that’s what he said – I couldn’t really hear because there was some horrible dog yapping in the background). I said, “I’m sure he’ll be back soon”.The guy slammed the door shut, and we were left outside, in the freezing cold. Carrie told me to knock again, and then I realised that the paint on the door was sticky and I’d got it all over my hands. So I hammered on it with my umbrella, and the man opened the door again. He said, “What the hell are you doing? Look – you’ve damaged the paint. Bloody idiot”.
I said, “Excuse me. There’s no call for that. We’re just trying to get up to Apartment 4 to see Mr Gowing who …”.
He interrupted and said “I don’t give a shit about Mr Gowing or his mates. This is a communal entrance. Who do you think I am? The concierge?”.
Still, this guy’s rudeness was nothing compared to Gowing’s. Then Cummings and his wife arrived. Cummings was walking with a stick and limping badly. He managed to get up the steps all the same, and asked what was going on.
The man said “I saw Mr Gowing this afternoon. He told me he was going down to Croydon and wasn’t going to be back ’til Monday. He was carrying a suitcase”.
Once again, he slammed the door. I was very, very angry with Gowing. Cummings was incandescent, whacked his stick on the ground, and shouted “Bastard!”.
Friday, January 22, 2010
We’d just finished supper when all of a sudden Cummings turned up. He’d not been around for about three weeks. He wasn’t looking too well. I said, “How are you doing? You don’t look so good”. He said, “No, I’m not”. I said, “What’s the problem?" He said, “Oh nothing. Nothing to worry about. I’ve just been flat on my back for three weeks in bed. The doctor wanted to put me in hospital. Of course, no one’s bothered to get in touch. I might as well have been dead, for all anybody cared”.I said, “But I didn’t know. Any time I passed your house, all the lights were on. Most of the time it looked like you had people round”.
Cummngs said, “The only people I’ve had round are the doctor, the physiotherapist and the chiropracter. He was absolutely brilliant by the way. I’m surprised you didn’t read about what happened in the paper”.
To cheer him up I said “Well, it looks like you’re making a good recovery”.
He said, “That’s not the issue, is it. The real issue is when you’re seriously ill, that’s when you find out who your true friends are”.
I said I thought that was pretty uncalled for. Then, to exacerbate the situation, Gowing comes in, slaps Cummings on the back and said, “Bloody hell! Have you seen a ghost? You look like Amy Winehouse”. I said, “Take it easy, Gowing. Apparently he’s been very ill”. Gowing laughed “Yeah, you look awful”. Cummings said, “I feel awful as well. Not that you care”.
There was an awkward silence. Gowing said, “No worries – come across to my place tomorrow with the wife. We’ll crack open a few bottles of vino. That’ll make you feel better”.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The oak dining table arrived from John Lewis. Carrie put some tea lights in coloured glass holders down the length of it. It looks great, and makes the room a lot more welcoming.Wednesday, January 20, 2010
I asked Lupin to pop into Boots to change some hard Kent Hairbrushes he’d recently got me as a present for some softer ones. The barber tells me it might be wise with my hair being the way it is.Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Over the years, I’ve rarely lost my temper with the cleaners we’ve had, but I had to speak to Anya about a careless habit she has of shaking the tablecloth after breakfast and covering the carpet in crumbs which then get trodden in. Anya answered rudely “Always, you are complaining”. I replied “Actually, I’m not. I spoke to you last week about walking all round the living room with some soap stuck on your shoe”. She said “You moan always about the washing”. I said “I don’t. But when things get lost, or shrunk, or come out the wrong colour, I think it’s perfectly justifiable for me to complain”. She began to cry and make a scene, but luckily I had to head out for work, so I had an excuse for leaving her to it. Gowing left a message saying not to forget next Saturday. Carrie said, quite wittily, “As he’s never asked anyone across before, we’re hardly going to forget, are we”.Monday, January 18, 2010
I’m worried. Lupin’s now driving a Mazda RX8. I said “Lupin, this must be costing you a fortune”. He said, “Well, I’ve got to get into the city somehow. Anyway, it’s hire-purchase. I can get shot of it any time I like”. But I wouldn’t let it go. I said, “Yes, but what about the running costs? And the insurance, for God’s sake!”. He said, “Look mate, you don’t get it, do you?. In this business, you can’t drive around in a heap of junk like your Focus. My boss tells me if I stick at it, I’ll be earning serious dough soon. And I mean serious”. I told him I thought gambling on the stock market was immoral. He said, “It’s not gambling. It’s about information”. I told him that whatever take he had on it, he should still get rid of the car. He said, “Look, I made £7K in one day. OK, suppose I made £7K a month, or, in the worst case scenario, £3.5K. £400 a month for a car against that – it’s a pissy amount of money”.I didn’t discuss it any further – just told him to be very very careful not to get into debt. “No worries” he said. “I only use other people’s money, and I only go on insider info”. I felt slightly relieved. Gowing popped in later, and I was surprised to hear he’d made £700 thanks to something Lupin had told him. He asked if we wanted to come round on Saturday, with the Cummings. We said we’d love to.
Friday, January 08, 2010
My god! Barry told me I’d be getting a £3.5K rise. £3.5K! I was reckoning on maybe two thousand tops (given that there’s been a pay freeze for the last two years), but £3.5K! Carrie and I were dancing round the room. Lupin came home in good spirits. I popped down to Oddbins and got a bottle of champagne, which we opened at supper. “Lupin, I’ve got this in so we can raise a toast to some good news I’ve had”. Lupin said “Wicked. Buy One Get One Free! I’ve got good news as well, so a double whammy eh?” I said, “Lupin, I’ve carefully toed the party line and put 21 years dedicated service into my company. As a result, I’ve just been given promotion and a salary increase of £3,500”.Lupin gave three cheers, hammered on the table, downed his champagne, shouted “fill ’er up” and stood up. He said “I’ve put a few months less-than-dedicated service in at Cleanands International Investment Brokers, but I covered my line manager’s back the other week (because he was having an affair with the receptionist) and he gave me some insider information. Today, I made £7K”. I said, “You’re joking”. He said “No mate, it’s true. It was spread-betting on some construction shares which bombed”.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Barry called me in and said I was going to be promoted to Senior Administration Manager. I was over the moon. He said he’d have confirmation on the salary tomorrow. Another day’s uncertainty. At least it’s the right kind of uncertainty. I remembered I’d not spoken to Lupin about Daisy’s father’s e-mail, so I mentioned it in the evening after getting the go ahead from Carrie. Lupin was deeply immersed in the FT like he was some kind of city boy. I said, “I was wondering why you’d not been round to the Mutlars’ this week”.Lupin said, “I thought I’d told you. I can’t stand Daisy’s old fart of a father”. I said, “Well Daisy’s father wrote to me to say he doesn’t think that highly of you”.
Lupin said, “Cheeky bastard. Writing to you! If his dad’s still alive, I’ll write to him and complain that his son’s an arsehole”.
I said, “Lupin, not in front of your mother”.
Lupin said, “Sorry. But that’s what he is. There’s no way I’m going round there again”.
I said, “Lupin, he’s barred you from the house”.
Lupin said, “Yeah, whatever. It amounts to the same thing. Daisy’s still cool though”.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
I was really on edge when I went to the office. Then I found out from Barry’s PA that he was going to be working remotely all day. In the evening, Lupin had his head buried in the paper. Suddenly he looked up and said, “Mate, what do you know about heat-pumps?" I said, “Nothing”. Lupin said, “Well, I’ll give you a tip. It’s the next big thing in renewables, and safe as pharma stock. I’d buy ’em”. I said something very very clever. “Pharma stock – I thought that was bullocks”. Carrie and I fell about laughing. Lupin didn’t take any notice, even though I repeated it. I carried on, “Hey, I’ll give you a tip: if you’re a waiter!”. Finally, I said “The other thing about tips – they’re usually full of rubbish!” Lupin looked at me witheringly and said “You should be introducing Countdown”.Tuesday, January 05, 2010
I was on tenterhooks all day. I didn’t want to interrupt Barry, but he didn’t ask me in, so eventually I went and knocked on his door. He said “Charles! What’s up?" I said, “Barry, I thought you and I were, you know, well, possibly going to have a brief chat about things today?" He said, “Oh, yeah. I remember. Look, things have gone a bit mental. Can we do it tomorrow?"Monday, January 04, 2010
I was going to pack this in last week, but something significant happened today, so I’ll carry on a bit longer. It was just after half one, and I was about to take my lunch break, when I got an e-mail from Barry Perkupp saying he wanted to see me immediately. I felt a bit uneasy.Barry was on the phone in his office, and motioned me to take a seat, but I indicated I’d stand. His conversation went on for a good twenty minutes. It seemed like hours. Eventually, Barry rang off and stood up.
I said, “I hope there isn’t a problem, Barry?"
He replied, “No, no, quite the reverse. Well, I don’t think there is”. That was a relief.
Barry said “John Buckling’s about to retire, so we’re going to need to re-organise. You’ve been with us for – what is it? Twenty one years? Retention levels are something we’re very proud of here. We’ve considered your input and experience, and we’d like to offer you promotion. We’ve not hammered out the exact details, but it’ll mean a significant rise in salary. I’ve got a meeting at two: let’s talk tomorrow”.
He picked up his Blackberry and walked out. I didn’t even have time to thank him. Carrie was delighted. She said, “Oh, fantastic. We’ll be able to get that oak dining table” and I said, “Yes, and you’ll get that lovely Laura Ashley outfit, if it’s still in the sale”.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
New Year’s Eve. I got a strange letter from Mr Mutlar:Dear Charles,
I’ve been trying to sort something out – namely who’s in charge in my own home. Is it me, or is it your son Lupin? I’ve tried not to be biased, but on balance I’ve decided that actually it’s me. In which case, I don’t want him round here again. I’m sorry, because it means I’ll miss out on the company of one of the most modest, unassuming, well-mannered young men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.
I didn’t want the year to end unhappily, so I didn’t mention the letter to Carrie or Lupin.
There was a really thick fog. Lupin decided he’d go out all the same, but promised he’d be back to see the new year in. It’s something of a custom with us. At quarter to, there was no sign of him, so I got out a new bottle of whisky. Carrie said it tasted like brandy. I knew it was whisky, for definite, told her so, and said that was the end of it. Carrie – obviously irritated because Lupin hadn’t shown up – said it wasn’t the end of it, because it was brandy, and said she’d lay a fiver on it. She said it must have been own-brand stuff which had been labelled wrong, or something. We had a stupid argument. Next thing, we discovered it was a quarter past twelve, and for the first time since we’d been married, we’d not toasted the new year in. Lupin got in after two, claiming he’d got lost in the fog.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Lupin spent the whole day round at the Mutlars. He seemed pretty up-beat in the evening, so I said “I’m really glad to see you’re so happy Lupin”. He replied, “Daisy’s fantastic, but her dad’s an idiot, and I had to point a few things out to him. He’s really stingy with the drinks, turns the lights out the minute you leave a room, won’t turn the central heating on, and buys everything in Lidl. He bangs on about carbon emissions and minding the pennies all the time. I had to tell him not to be such a tight-arse”. I said, “Lupin, you’re young. I hope you won’t end up regretting it”.Tuesday, December 29, 2009
I had a really vivid dream last night. I woke up, and when I went back to sleep, I had it all over again. In the dream, Frank Mutlar was telling his sister that he’d sent me the Christmas card, and he’d slapped me on the head. As luck would have it, at breakfast time Lupin was looking at an annotated script he’d got from Frank.I asked him to pass it over, so that I could take a look at the handwriting. I put it next to the envelope the card had come in. The writing looked similar, despite the attempt at disguise. I passed them to Carrie. She started to laugh. I asked her what was so funny, and she said the card wasn’t addressed to me at all. It was to “L.Pooter”, not “C.Pooter”. Lupin looked at it and said “Oh yeah, it’s for me”. I said “You don’t normally receive such unpleasant cards, do you?" He said, “Sure. And I send plenty too”.
In the evening, Gowing came by and said he’d had a great time last night. I mentioned to him about having been slapped on the head. He burst out laughing and said, “Oh, it was your head was it? I knew I’d accidentally hit something, but I thought it was the wall”. I told him I felt hurt, in both senses of the term.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Lupin came down to breakfast and said “Frank and Daisy are still coming. It’d be nice for them to see Gowing and Cummings this evening”. I was pleased with him for doing this. Carrie said “Thanks for telling me. I can use up some of the turkey my mother gave me”. She said she’d make some mince pies and get some clotted cream.Since Lupin was in a good mood, I took him aside and asked if he had some problem with Gowing or Cummings. He said, “Not that I know of. I think Cummings looks a bit of a twat with his Pringle sweaters. As for Gowing’s taste in cardigans – well, he looks like he should be in a residential home”.
I said (cleverly) “I think you’ll find a man is more than the sum of his knitwear”. Lupin, laughing, said “Yeah, but what kind of a nit wears stuff like that?”
It was quite a happy meal. Daisy was pleasant. At the table, though, she started rolling up bits of bread and said “Hey, can anyone make animals out of bread?” and moulded some into the shape of a giraffe. I thought it was bad manners, but didn’t say anything. Daisy and Lupin started throwing bits of bread at each other, Frank joined in, and – unforgiveably – so did Cummings and Gowing. Then they started chucking whole chunks of stick-loaf around, and a crust hit me on the forehead. I said “Steady on” and Frank jumped up and shouted “Yabba dabba doo”.
I hadn’t a clue what he meant, but they all cracked up, and went on with their bread battle. Gowing grabbed some rocket leaves off a plate, and threw them right in my face. I gave him a really sharp look and he said, “Don’t try looking angry. It doesn’t work. Not with a load of lettuce on your head”. I got up from the table and told them to pack it in. Frank shouted “Time gentlemen please” and turned out the lights. I was feeling my way towards the light switch, when I felt a sharp slap on the back of my head. I said, “Who did that?" No one said anything. I asked again. No result. I turned the lights back on. Everyone was chatting and laughing, so I didn’t make anything more of it. Later I said to Carrie, “I bet you whoever sent that rude Christmas card was here tonight”.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
I told Lupin that Gowing and Cummings would be coming over tomorrow evening. I was hoping he’d want to stay in and have a laugh with them. But he said, “Cancel that. I’ve asked Daisy and Frank over”. I said I wasn’t going to cancel it. He said “OK, I’ll text her and tell her it’s off”.Carrie had been listening, and was annoyed. She had a go at Lupin, saying “Any reason why you don’t want Daisy meeting your dad’s friends? Aren’t they good enough for her? Or perhaps, equally possible, she’s not good enough for them?" Lupin looked shocked, and said nothing. When he left the room, I gave Carrie a kiss, by way of approval.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I didn’t get much sleep last night. I never do in a strange bed. I had a bit of heartburn (hardly surprising at this time of year). We came home in the evening. Lupin got back late. He said he’d had a great time, and added “I’m fit as a fiddle. Almost as good as a stradivarius. Awesome”. I’ve given up trying to work out what the hell he’s talking about half the time.Friday, December 25, 2009
CHRISTMAS DAYWe drove down to Carrie’s mother’s. The countryside was looking nice, though the roads were wet and muddy. We ate at lunch-time, ten of us, and reminisced about the old days. If everyone’s mother-in-law was as pleasant and uninterfering as mine, the world would be a happier place, I’m sure. We gave her a toast, and I made a very good speech.
I drew it to a close by saying “At a time like this, friends, family and acquaintances are all well disposed towards each other. Love and friendship are uppermost in our minds. Those who’ve fallen out, should kiss and make up. Those who’ve not fallen out … well, they can kiss as well!”
Both Carrie and her mother had tears in their eyes at this, which I took as a compliment. Very flattering. An old friend of Carrie’s mother, John Panzy Smith, made a funny speech, and finished up by saying we should do as I’d suggested. He walked round the table and kissed the ladies. I didn’t mind at all. But then a young chap called Moss (I’d not met him before) who’d hardly said a thing during the meal, suddenly jumped up, holding a piece of mistletoe, and said “Wey hey! I’m going to get a slice of the action!” and kissed all the women. On the mouth. And a little too long, I’d say.
People took it as a joke. We all laughed. I thought he’d gone a bit too far. I mentioned it to Carrie later, but she said, “Come on. He’s not much more than a boy”. I said he was pretty familiar for a boy. She said, “I’m sure he’ll turn into a very nice young man”.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
I’m not particularly flush, but I’d willingly give fifty quid to anyone who could tell me who sent me the rude Christmas card I got this morning. I don’t insult people. Why should they insult me? The worst thing about it is, I’ve ended up suspecting my friends. The hand-writing on the envelope slopes backwards (obviously disguised). I don’t reckon Gowing or Cummings would have done it. Lupin said he didn’t know anything about it, and I believe him, although I don’t like the way he laughed at the card. Franching wouldn’t lower himself, and neither would the Mutlars. Perhaps it was Michael Pitt, the self-appointed court jester down at the office. Anya? Rudy? (I don’t reckon it was Anya – the writing’s far too neat).Wednesday, December 23, 2009
I didn’t exchange one word with Lupin this morning, but in the evening he seemed to be in high spirits. I asked him where he was planning to spend Christmas day. He said, “Probably round the Mutlars’ place”.I was astonished. I said, “What? Round the Mutlars? After you and Daisy broke off your engagement?”
Lupin said, “Who said we broke it off?”
I said, “Well, we got the distinct impression ….”
Lupin interrupted “Well, whatever, it‘s back on - so there!”
Monday, December 21, 2009
Most of the cards I’d got had dirty finger marks on them. Lupin, (who seems to have become a bit unscrupulous since he started working with this hedge fund), told me it’d be a good idea to get some small labels, write inflated prices on them, and stick them on the back of the card so’s people would think we’d spent a lot more on them than we actually had. Bizarre.Lupin was very down in the dumps in the evening. I told him that behind the clouds, the sun was shining. He said, “Yeah, whatever. It never shines on me”. I said, “Lupin. You’ve got to stop fretting about Daisy Mutlar. Forget her. Look on it as a lucky escape. She’s far too odd”. He got up and said, “Don’t you dare slag her off. She’s worth more than all your mates put together. Especially that freak Barry Perkupp”. Faced with this, I stood up, and walked out in dignified silence, but caught my foot on the rug.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
I went down to a Clinton’s card shop. It was packed with people elbowing each other to get at the shelves. They were picking up cards, taking a quick look, then stuffing them back. I said to one of the girls at the till that she must get fed up with people being so careless. Just then, my coat caught on a revolving stand with some really expensive novelty cards on it, and knocked the whole thing over. Cards went everywhere, people trod on them, it was pandemonium. The manager was called. He started picking them up, and said to one of the assistants “They’re damaged. Put them over there in the discount section”. This was clearly directed at me. As a result, I felt duty bound to buy some of them at full price.I had to get a lot more cards, and pay a lot more, than I’d planned. Unfortunately, I didn’t look at them all properly, and when I got home I found one which had a picture of Father Christmas dropping his trousers on the front. Inside it said “wishing you a crappy Christmas”, there was a picture of a pile of poo, and it made a farting sound. I ripped it up and threw it away. Carrie said the problem with having a busier social life these days was that we ended up having to send out loads more cards. About two dozen, this year.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Got the annual phone call inviting us over to Carrie’s mother’s for Christmas – something we always look forward to. Lupin said he wouldn’t be going. I was very surprised, and told him I was disappointed. Lupin then let rip. “I hate family get-togethers at Christmas. They’re dismal. Someone says “This time last year, Uncle James was with us. So sad he’s passed away” and everyone goes all weepy. Then someone else says “Hard to believe, but it was only two years ago that Aunt Liz was sitting over there, in the corner”. Cue more snivelling. Then some doom-monger goes “Hmm, and whose turn will it be next, I wonder?" More waterworks. Then we stuff ourselves with far too much food and drink and watch Strictly Come Dancing with Brucie. To cap it all, we find there’ve been thirteen of us at the table. So, it’s bad luck all round, and here’s to a happy new year”.Friday, December 18, 2009
Yesterday I was feeling reflective. Today I was trying to look ahead, but all I could see was a load of clouds on the horizon. The Daisy Mutlar business is making Lupin an absolute pain. He won’t say exactly why they’ve split up. Obviously, she’s done something he doesn’t approve of, but if we try to sympathise, he gets all tetchy and says he won’t hear a word said against her. What are we supposed to do? I’m also disappointed that neither Carrie nor Lupin have any interest in my diary.I mentioned it at breakfast today. I said “What I’d thought was if anything ever happened to me, my diary would give you both some really happy memories. Quite apart from the chance of earning off it if it was published in book form”.
Carrie and Lupin burst out laughing. Carrie immediately apologised. She said “I don’t mean to be rude, my love, but honestly I don’t think people would be interested in it. No publisher would want to take it on”.
I replied “I’m sure it’s just as interesting as some of the rubbish celebrities like that dreadful woman Katie Price get published. Anyway, it’s the diary that makes the man: where would Samuel Pepys have been without his?"
Carrie said I was quite a philosopher. Lupin, on the other hand, sneered, “Get it published on one long thin sheet of paper. That way, people can wipe their arses with it”.
Right. At the end of the year – I’m stopping this.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Nearly Christmas. I don’t know why, but it makes me reflect back on things. The last few weeks of my diary haven’t been very interesting. Lupin’s break up with Daisy seems to have transformed him overnight, and it’s become a bit of a strain being with Carrie. Last Saturday, she was really down, so I thought I’d cheer her up by reading her some extracts from my diary. She walked out in the middle, without saying a word. When she came back in, I said “Darling, was it boring for you?"She replied, “Sorry, I don’t think I was listening. I had to ring Anya. She put a red t-shirt in with a white wash, and now Lupin’s white shirts have gone pink, so he won’t wear them”.
I said “It’s all about Lupin. Lupin, Lupin, Lupin. Yesterday, there was a button missing from one of my cuffs, but did I make a song and dance about it?”
Carrie just said, “If you had any sense of style, you’d wear cufflinks”.
Something else occurs to me: Gowing doesn’t call much, and Cummings never does now. I’m worried they don’t get on with Lupin.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
There was a good thing on bankers’ bonuses on the Andrew Marr Show this morning. Later on, something irritating happened. I ran into Mia Fernloose outside Homebase, stacking some expensive tins of Farrow & Ball paint in the back of a new Range Rover. She clearly remembered me (which was flattering) and might well have had something important to say to me, but unfortunately the wind caught a paper lampshade I’d got in my trolley, and blew it across the car park. I ran after it, and eventually retrieved it (after tripping in a muddy flower bed). By that time Mia had gone across to chat to some other woman in a Mercedes, and in any case, I looked a bit of a state, so I thought it best not to talk to her. Pity.In the evening, I got a big long e-mail from Rudy:
Dear Mr Pooter,
I am younger than you by some twenty or thirty years. You have the wisdom of age at your disposal, I am sure, and yet I would suggest that, compared to my humble self, you have a significantly lesser capacity to absorb the nuances implicit in many of our contemporary mores.
Do I make myself understood?
This being indubitably the case, I would suggest you accept that you were wrong in maintaining the position which you recently took in the course of our discussion. You threw down the gauntlet, and I have responded robustly and perceptively. I will not be gainsaid by you.
But to return to the substantive issue.
Our lives are worlds apart. I, my friend, live for my art. The art of performance – a noble calling. You, on the other hand, are enslaved to commerce, and labour daily amidst arid number-laden spreadsheets. Your life in the city is not without its value, I admit. But oh, how very different it is. As even you will perceive, there is a vast gulf between us. It is an unbridgeable divide. We will never effect a true meeting of minds. This is an immutable truth.
I have made a sacred vow to myself to ascend the Olympian heights of fame and celebrity. I know that I must expect to endure great privations on my journey, and I may stumble and fall, but ultimately I will reach the pinnacle. And you will know. The media, public and paparazzi will flock to my cause. Thusfar, I am a mere amateur. My work is known only to, and supported by, a select few. Here and there, I have enemies.
But let me put this question to you: what is the difference between an amateur and a professional? None! Or is there? Indeed there is. One is paid for doing what the other does just as skillfully for nothing!
But I will be paid! In full and frank disregard of the admonishments of friends and family, I have elected to become a stand-up comedian. It is my chosen profession. And when the fashion for stand-up has passed – as indeed it will, I predict – the true diversity and maturity of my talent shall become apparent to all. Without a trace of conceit, I can safely say that there is no one with the ability to inhabit the role of Richard III so fully and effectively as I feel and know I can.
At that time, I guarantee that you, my friend, shall be the first in line to admit your earlier foolishness. There are many matters which you may understand, Mr Pooter, but the fine arts of performance shall always be utterly impenetrable to one such as yourself.
I hope this concludes the matter between us.
With regards,
Rudy Burwin.
Utter rubbish. When Lupin showed up, I handed him a copy of this sad, pompous, cocky little e-mail and said “Take a look and see what your mate is really like”. To my surprise, Lupin said “oh yeah – he showed it to me before he sent it. He’s dead right – I think you need to apologise to him”.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I got a long e-mail from Rudy about last night’s argument. It really wound me up, so I replied immediately. I told him I didn’t know anything about the inner workings of the world of stand-up comedy, I didn’t care about it, and I certainly wasn’t going to waste time talking about the subject, even if it put a friendship at risk. I’ve never written anything that direct before.On the way back to the house on Saturday, I ran into Daisy Mutlar. Oh God. Not a meeting I wanted. I nodded slightly as I passed. She pretended she hadn’t seen me. Back at home, Anya had messed up the washing and lost a sock. Very irritating. I told Carrie and she said “If you’ve got a problem, tell her yourself. I’m fed up with trying to drum it into her. If you’re quick, you can catch her before she goes.” I had a word, but she said there was only ever one sock in the laundry basket.
Gowing came into the hall as I was talking to Anya about the lost sock, and decided to intervene. “Don’t throw it out. It’d be a waste. Find a bloke with one leg and give it to him”. Anya started cackling like a moron. I couldn’t be bothered with any of it, so I went upstairs to get changed.
Back down in the living room, Gowing was telling Carrie his gag about the man with one leg, and Carrie was laughing her head off. Perhaps I’m losing my sense of humour. Who knows? I made my feelings known about Jimmy Padge. Gowing had only met him once, apparently, through some mutual acquaintance. Jimmy had bought the two of them lunch somewhere posh, so Gowing thought he should return the compliment. Bloody hell! The cheek of it. Lupin came in before I could say anything, and unfortunately Gowing asked him how Daisy Mutlar was. Lupin shouted “Stick … your … fat … nose … out. OK?" He stumped out of the room, slammed the door and disappeared. The rest of the night was Daisy, Daisy, Daisy. How tedious!
Friday, November 20, 2009
I forgot my mobile today – second time this week. I must be losing my memory. What with all the Daisy Mutlar stuff, I forgot to get in touch with Rudy to tell him I’d be out tonight (lie). He’d probably have turned up whatever I said. I think he’s that kind of bloke.Good old Cummings came in the evening. Gowing texted to say he hoped I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t turn up, which made me laugh. Apparently, his cheek was still sore. Rudy arrived, but Lupin wasn’t around. I was seriously put out when Jimmy Padge rolled up by himself, without Gowing. “Jimmy! What a lovely surprise,” I said, with a subtle touch of sarcasm. Carrie (ever the diplomat) said, “I’m sure he’s only popped in to see Rudy’s other routine”. Jimmy said “Yeah. You OK with that?" He made a bee-line for the comfy chair, and (again) didn’t move all night.
Jimmy Padge
I suppose the advantage is, since his diet consists mainly of Stella, we don’t have the bother of feeding him, but I’ll have to have a chat with Gowing about the guy. The Julian Clary impressions went on all bloody evening. Boring, boring, boring. We had a bit of a heated discussion at one point, because Cummings said that Rudy wasn’t just like Julian Clary, he was as good or even better. I pointed out that Rudy was just imitating the original.
Cummings said that an imitation could be better than an original. I said something very smart, namely, “Without an original there can be no imitation”. Rudy (rudely) said “Pack it in. Mr Pooter: I’d advise you NOT to talk about things you clearly don’t understand”. Jimmy, the fat slob, said “Too right, mate”. Carrie (thank God) saved the situation by saying “How’s about I do Victoria Wood?" No one reckoned much to the accuracy of her impression, but she was so spontaneous and funny, it distracted everyone from a debate which was clearly turning a bit nasty.
When they were leaving, I told Rudy and Jimmy pretty pointedly that we’d got something planned for tomorrow evening and wouldn’t be around.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Cummings got here early, and Gowing arrived a bit later. He’d brought a fat and rather slobbish guy with a long greasy pony-tail. He was called Jimmy Padge, and Gowing hadn’t had the decency to ask if it’d be OK for him to tag along. He didn’t even seem to think any apology was in order. Gowing said Jimmy wanted to see Rudy’s Julian Clary routine. Jimmy said, “Yeah”, and that was about it from him for the whole evening. Lupin came in. He was clearly feeling more up-beat. After half an hour, Lupin left the room. He came back in five minutes, and announced “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr Julian Clary!”.
Lupin announces “Mr Julian Clary”
We were all astonished. The resemblance was uncanny. The only one who didn’t seem interested was Jimmy, who’d sat himself down in my comfy chair in the corner, with a six pack of Stella he‘d brought with him. After a while I said to Carrie “I’m not quite sure I like this brand of humour.” Quick as a flash she said “Perhaps you prefer the “Jo” brand!”. We all had a great laugh at that, bar Rudy who said (pretty patronisingly), “Good joke love, but hardly original”.
That was out of order so I said, “Excuse me, Rudy, I ….” but he didn’t let me finish. “Now don’t be naughty. It’s Julian, not Rudy”, which made me totally forgot what I’d meant to say to him. All through supper, Rudy went on and on about Julian Clary. You can only take so much camp comedy, and Carrie and I reckoned we’d had enough. After we’d eaten, Rudy got carried away, kissed Gowing passionately, left lipstick marks all over his face and scratched his cheek quite badly – even drawing some blood. Gowing was peeved, but Jimmy (who’d not had supper with us since he was perfectly happy hogging the comfy chair, swigging his Stella) started laughing uncontrollably. I was annoyed and said, “I suppose you’d find it even funnier if he poked his eye out?" Jimmy said, “Yeah! You’re right there mate” and laughed even more. The big surprise for me was when Rudy said, on his way out, “Goodnight then – and thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ll do my other big routine tomorrow night”.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Gowing and Cummings dropped in tonight. Lupin turned up with a mate called Rudy Burwin, the luvvie from the Comedy Kings who’d broken the table at the party. No one mentioned Daisy, which was one good thing. The evening was completely monopolised by Rudy, who looked a bit like Julian Clary, and seemed to think he actually was the homosexual comic. That said, he did some funny imitations. There was no sign of him leaving, so I said “Rudy – fancy staying for a bit of food?” and he said “Thank you, sweet. I’d love to.”
Rudy Burwin at supper
He did his Julian Clary stuff all through supper, slid down in his chair so his head was virtually under the table, whacked Carrie on the shins, knocked over a wine glass, and nearly decapitated Gowing with his knife. After supper, he lolled around with his feet on the book-case, kept doing lines from a sitcom (Alan Partridge, Lupin told me), and gave Carrie a really bad headache by constantly jumping up and head-butting some wind chimes.
As he was leaving he said “I’ll come tomorrow with my Julian Clary make up”. Gowing and Cummings said they were up for that. I wondered why they didn’t organise a full-on bloody party for themselves at my house at the same time. Carrie, though, pointed out that it was worth doing anything, if it helped Lupin forget the whole Daisy Mutlar saga.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Lupin dropped in for a few minutes in the evening. He asked for some brandy, doing his affected luvvie thing, so I said “No. I’ve not got any. Even if I had, I wouldn’t give it to you”. Lupin said “All right, I’ll go somewhere where they will give me some” and walked out of the house. Carrie took Lupin’s side and the rest of the evening was spent in pretty unpleasant chat. The words “Daisy” and “Mutlar” must have been said a thousand times.Monday, November 16, 2009
I didn’t see Lupin at all today. I got myself an address book, and I copied in names of friends/acquaintances in the evening. I didn’t include the Mutlars.Sunday, November 15, 2009
A nice peaceful day. Lupin headed off in the afternoon to the Mutlars’. He was in high spirits. Carrie said “If there’s any advantage in this engagement it’s that he seems to be happy all the time, but really, I don’t think she’s right for him”.Carrie and I talked about it in the evening. We agreed that an early engagement didn’t necessarily end in an unhappy marriage. After all, as Carrie pointed out, she and I had married pretty early, and bar a few minor incidents, we’ve never really exchanged a cross word. I reckon that half the pleasures we experience in life arise directly from having suffered struggles and privations in the early years of marriage - struggles which quite often relate to lack of money. These are the kind of things which often help to make loving couples bond together even tighter. I said as much to Carrie.
Carrie said I’d put it really well, and should congratulate myself on being a bit of a philosopher.
All of us can be vain. I must confess I was really flattered by Carrie’s compliment. I don’t pretend to have any great ability to express myself in high-flown language, but I do feel I’m very able to express my thoughts with simplicity and clarity. About nine o’clock Lupin returned looking dishevelled and a bit weird. We were surprised – we’d not been expecting him. Obviously he’d been out with the luvvies, because he said in a dull actory voice, like an old alcoholic in some bar-room scene in a 30s black and white movie “Give me a brandy. I need a brandy”. I said “Sorry Lupin, I’ve not got any. D’you want some whisky instead?" I was shocked when he downed a whole tumbler in one.
The three of us sat watching Poirot, in silence. At ten, Carrie and I headed off to bed. Carrie said to Lupin “Is Daisy OK?" Lupin said “Pardon? Hmmm. Daisy. Daisy. Now, let … me … see”. He stared into space, his brow all knotted like he was trying hard to remember something. “Oh yes! Yes!” he said eventually. “You must mean Daisy! Daisy Mutlar! Daisy Mutlar, the fat slapper! I’ve heard about her! Who hasn’t?”
Then he said “Mum, I don’t give a shit about her. I don’t care whether she’s OK or not. She’s a slag. I don’t want to hear her stupid, slaggy name ever again. All right?”
Saturday, November 14, 2009
I felt a lot better when I got up this morning – completely back to normal. I’m not a natural party animal: so when we got an invite to someone’s wedding we turned it down. We’d only met her a couple of times down at Annie’s, and I didn’t feel like shelling out on a present for her. Lupin said, “Yeah, I’m with you on that. It’s like some crap Hollywood B-movie. Bride and groom as the stars. Joke-cracking best man, crying dad, and snivelling mother as supporting cast, and everyone else has a walk-on role, which they have to pay for by buying a present”. I didn’t quite agree with the film analogy (slightly rude), but thought it was witty all the same.I said to Carrie to sling the trifle. She’d been serving it up every day since the party. Cummings came round in the evening and said we’d thrown a great do. He said it was the best he’d been to in ages. We were watching “Property Snakes and Ladders”, when Lupin and Frank came in making a load of noise. I asked them if they’d care to watch it with us, but Lupin took the remote, and switched over to “Dave”, where a foul-mouthed Scottish man on Mock the Week was making a joke about a paedophile. Lupin and Frank laughed a lot. I changed the channel back immediately.
Despite having told her to chuck it out, Carrie served the trifle again - this time disguised with some squirty cream and chocolate sprinkles. She offered some to Lupin, and he said “No way. That’s pure salmonella”. Afterwards, I told Carrie if she tried to serve it up again, I’d leave her. For good.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Still tired and under the weather. Gowing came round in the evening, all enthusiastic about the party. He said the place had looked great and he’d had a fantastic time. Gowing can be quite nice if he puts his mind to it, but you never know how long it’ll last. Later at supper when Carrie offered him some trifle he said “Nice to see you believe in recycling. Isn’t that from Wednesday?”Thursday, November 12, 2009
I woke up about twenty times in the night, feeling absolutely parched. Drank a whole pint of water, and then had to keep going back and forth to the bathroom every time I woke to get more. I had this weird dream: to cut to the chase, the party was a failure, loads of gate-crashers came in and threw a variety of stuff at Barry Perkupp, and eventually I hid him under a towel in the airing cupboard. All of which is completely ridiculous, but it was disturbingly real in the dream. It recurred about a dozen times.Carrie really irritated me by saying “You know champagne doesn’t agree with you”. I told her I’d only had a couple of glasses and otherwise I’d kept to the Jacob’s Creek. I also pointed out that good bubbly never hurt anybody, and Lupin had got it as an end-of-bin special – the rest had been bought up by some posh West End club.
I think I stuffed myself a bit on the food front (the girl in the fishnets who was doing the waitressing called them “side dishes”). I said to Carrie, “I wish I’d put those side dishes aside”. I repeated it, but Carrie was busy sorting out the bottles for the recycling. At about half eleven, I set off for the office, but got waylaid by Lupin who suddenly appeared, looking very washed out. He said “Hiya fella. How’s it hanging? You were wankered”. I told him I hadn’t a clue what that meant. He added “God, when I woke up, it felt like someone was smashing a shedload of crockery inside my head”. On the spur of the moment, I said the cleverest thing I’ve ever said: “I suspect the drink was the “saucer” all that!”. We all had a good laugh.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Bit of a big day today. Our first real party since moving in. I came back early. Lupin had got one of the girls from the Comedy Kings to act as waitress (dressed in a short black skirt and fishnets, would you believe), and said he’d pay her a tenner an hour. I thought it was a bit extravagant to shell out £40 on something so frivolous, but Lupin said he’d made a bit of money on the side down in the City, so no worries. I hope he’s not gambling or anything stupid like that. The living room looked great and Carrie said “If Barry Perkupp’s nice enough to come, he’ll be impressed”.I got myself sorted well in advance in case anyone turned up on the dot of eight. I was irritated that my new chinos were too short. Lupin said my brown leather loafers were horrendous, and a fashion disaster. I said, sarcastically, “I’m above that sort of thing”. He started sniggering and said “Yeah, an old fart is usually above his loafers”.
Maybe funny, maybe not. Luckily he didn’t notice that the inlay on one of my cuff-links was chipped. Carrie was wearing her Civic Hall dress and looked great. Everything was laid out really well. We had scented candles burning all round the living room.
Shirley Wicks (the girl from the Comedy Kings who was going to be waitress for the evening) arrived. I told her to open the champagne bottles one at a time. Carrie got some Jacob’s Creek and Belgian lager and put it out on the table. We’d had some photos of us enlarged and framed, and put up on the walls. They looked good, particularly with the tinsel Carrie had run along the top of them.
The first person to show up was Gowing who (tactful as ever) said “Hey Pooter! Your trousers are too short”.
I said “Gowing – you’ll find my temper’s pretty short also”. He said “Yeah, but it won’t make your trousers any longer, will it?” He said “Get your mrs to lengthen them with a bit of curtain”.
I don’t know why I bother recording Gowing’s stupid comments.
Next to turn up were Cummings and his wife. Cummings said “You didn’t say what we should wear, but I’ve made a bit of an effort”. He was wearing jeans and a tie. Annie James and her husband arrived, and then Dominic Merton and Stillbrook. Lupin was totally on edge, until Daisy and Frank turned up.
Carrie and I were a bit startled at what Daisy was wearing. She was kitted out in some kind of low-cut satin basque and a denim mini-skirt. Not exactly appropriate, I’d have said. She could learn a thing or two from Carrie who doesn’t like to wear anything too revealing. Some other chaps I know rolled up (Chris Nackles and Charlie Sprice-Hogg and his four daughters) as did Jim Franching and some of Lupin’s new mates from the Comedy Kings. A load of camp luvvies in my opinion. One of them was posing around like Julian Clary. He leant on the small round table and damaged it. Lupin called him “our Henry” and said he was as camp as tents. I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.
The music was going and Daisy sang along to the one from Titanic. Lupin raved about how she “totally had the X-factor”. It’s an OK song, but her face was all contorted as she sang it, and (I’m pretty sure Simon Cowell would have backed me up on this) she was completely out of tune. Regardless, Lupin encouraged her to do more, and unfortunately she swayed around the room singing along to a load more numbers at the top of her voice.
At about nine, we put the food out. From the way Gowing and Cummings stuffed themselves, you’d have thought they’d not eaten for a month. I told Carrie to save something for Barry Perkupp in case he decided to put in an appearance. Gowing annoyed me by filling up a glass of champagne and downing it in one. Then he did the same again. I was worried that the dozen bottles we’d splashed out on wouldn’t last. I tried to hide one, but Lupin got hold of it, sat down with Daisy and Henry and started swigging from the bottle.
The young people started arseing around. Carrie got them to calm down. Stillbrook started singing some funny (but rather rude) rugby songs. I didn’t notice that Lupin and Henry had disappeared. I asked Jimmy (one of the Comedy Kings) where they’d got to and he said “Jones’s knickers”. We were told to sit down, the music stopped and someone put on “It’s not Unusual” (the Tom Jones song). In came Lupin, his face bright orange and a fake chest wig poking out of a white satin shirt unbuttoned to the waist, with a load of gold medallions hanging round his neck. He started miming to the song, and then Henry ran in, in a blue-rinse wig looking like Les Dawson used to when he did those sketches. He started dancing round Lupin, throwing big pairs of knickers at him, so his face got covered in them. We were all cracking up.
I turned round, and saw Barry Perkupp standing in the doorway. He’d slipped in without my knowing. Carrie and I went across to him. He didn’t want to come into the room. I apologised for Lupin and Frank’s thing and he said “No worries. It looks very funny”. I could see he didn’t think it was funny at all.
Carrie and I took him into the kitchen, but it was a complete mess - there were plates and bits of food and half-empty glasses and crushed cans all over the place, and the floor was sticky. Not a drop of champagne left. I offered Barry Perkupp a glass of tonic, but the bottle was empty. Carrie said we’d got the remains of a bottle of whisky if he fancied some, but he said “I don’t think so. But I’m glad to have seen you here. Goodnight Carrie. Apologies for my very brief visit”. I went out to the car with him and he said “Don’t bother coming into the office tomorrow until after lunch”.
Going back to the house I felt depressed and told Carrie that the party was a complete disaster. Carrie said it was brilliant – I was just tired. She told me to have some of the whisky. I drank two glasses, felt a lot better and went back into the living room. I gave Carrie a big hug and a long smoochy kiss and she said I was soft.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Everyone’s up for the do tomorrow. Barry Perkupp sent an e-mail saying he was out for a meal somewhere in Kensington, but if he was able to get away, he’d come up for half an hour or so. Carrie spent half the day getting canapes and stuff ready, and said she was a bit jittery about the whole thing. We got in loads of crisps, dips, prawn crackers and mini-snacks (the usual kind of thing), and some pizza slices in case anyone was a bit more peckish. Gowing came round to ask if he needed to get dressed up for the occasion. Carrie said since Jim Franching and Barry Perkupp were coming, smart casual would probably be best.Gowing said “thanks, just needed to know, because my jacket’s a bit messy, and I’ll need to get it dry-cleaned”.
When he’d gone, Lupin came in and whinged about everything because he was worried about what Daisy might think. He thought the whole thing was a disaster waiting to happen, and knowing my friends’ sense of fashion, he’d not be surprised if Daisy mistook them for a load of local undertakers.
I lost my temper and said “Lupin, Daisy’s not the bloody Queen of England. I’d have thought you’d have more sense than to get involved with someone who’s almost old enough to be your mother. Get yourself sorted on the job front before you make any commitment to a woman who’ll want to dine out on your credit card – along with her brother, who looks like a total waster to me”.
Lupin didn’t take kindly to what I thought was fairly reasonable advice. He jumped up and shouted “Don’t you dare insult her. If you do, you’re insulting me, and I’ll clear off and I won’t come back. Understood?”
He went out and slammed the door behind him. But it was OK. He came back for supper and we watched TV together ’til midnight or so.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Carrie’s been on the phone to Gowing, the Cummings, Annie James and her husband and Stillbrook. I sent an e-mail across to Jim Franching. Carrie suggested inviting Barry Perkupp. I thought it mightn’t be quite posh enough. She said there’d be no harm in asking – he could only say no. I e-mailed him. Carrie said Daisy was nice enough but not much of a looker.
Daisy Mutlar
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Carrie and I took a walk down to the shops, and ran into Lupin, Daisy and her brother. We walked back together. Carrie went with Daisy. We asked them if they’d like to come in for coffee. It gave me a chance to take a good look at my daughter-in-law to be. I was distinctly underwhelmed. She’s – how shall I put it – a bit of a “big” girl and older than Lupin by at least eight years, I’d say. I didn’t think she was much to look at. Carrie asked her if she’d like to come over next Wednesday with her brother, just to meet a few friends. She said, “Yeah, that’d be nice”.Saturday, November 07, 2009
When I got back from work, the house was in uproar. Carrie was beside herself in the kitchen and a distinctly drunk Anya (the cleaner) was screeching at her. “You listen me, I may be cleaner, I may not know nothing about computer, but I know not go near whatever the thing is, so shut your mouth or I have you for harassment”. Lupin was facing away from me and didn’t hear me come in. He was standing between Anya and Carrie, trying to broker some kind of peace. In doing so, he used some pretty offensive language. I don’t think he should speak like that in front of his mother. I heard him say “Shit! And all this about some stupid crap which is worth absolutely sod all to anyone”. I said, quietly, “I beg your pardon, Lupin, but I think that’s a matter of opinion. I think I should take over from here”.I gathered that the source of it all was that Carrie had accused Anya of using the computer to book some Easyjet flights to Warsaw. It was all a bit vague. I told Anya to go home. I went into the sitting room and Lupin was rolling around on the sofa, laughing his head off.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Lupin seems to like his new job. That’s a relief. Daisy was the only thing anyone would talk about at supper, and Carrie nattered on about her almost as much as Lupin. Lupin’s going to perform at the Comedy Kings’ next improv evening, which I take a dim view of. It probably involves lots of gratuitous swearing, filthy innuendo, and general stupidity, particularly since Frank Mutlar is involved. I told him I wasn’t interested because I don’t approve of alternative comedy. More like an alternative TO comedy. Gowing popped in.Thursday, November 05, 2009
I’ve tried and tried to work out where the missing diary files might have gone, without any success. On the hard drive? I haven’t a clue. Lupin’s obsessed with Daisy, so we don’t get to see much of him bar meal-times when he’s more than happy to turn up. Cummings came by.Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Went down to Smiths and picked out a couple of packs of notelets with pictures of flowers on them. In the evening, Lupin bought Daisy’s brother Frank round. He was a gawky looking lad: Lupin said he was one of the best of the Comedy Kings (which I understand are a group of stand-up comedians who also do “improv”). Lupin whispered that if we could get Frank going, he’d have us in stitches.He certainly amused us at supper. He did what he called “beatboxing” – loads of percussion and drumming sounds just with his voice – and a spot-on imitation of the one who goes “I was terribly, terribly drunk at the time” on “The Fast Show”.
Whilst we were chatting, Daisy’s name cropped up, and Frank said he’d bring her round one evening. He said his parents were a bit conservative, and didn’t go out much. Carrie suggested having a party. It was getting on for eleven, but it didn’t seem like Frank was planning on leaving in any particular hurry. As a hint, I told Lupin he’d need to be up early for work in the morning. At which Frank embarked on a series of routines and impressions which went on for a good hour at least. Carrie could hardly stay awake. Eventually, she made an excuse and said “Goodnight”.
Frank then got ready to go. He and Lupin spent some time whispering in the hall. I overheard something about the Comedy Kings. I was disgusted when Lupin put his coat on and headed out with his new mate, even though it was well after midnight.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Lupin asked Carrie to give Daisy’s mum a call. Carrie seemed to think Daisy’s mum should call her. I agreed with Carrie, and an argument ensued, which was temporarily settled when Carrie said she’d maybe get some notelets to write to her in the first instance, and then we could work out what the etiquette of all this should be.Monday, November 02, 2009
Lupin went to the office with me, and had a long chat with Barry Perkupp. The upshot was he’s now an Account Assistant at Cleanands International Investment Brokers. Lupin told me it was a ramshackle bunch of hedge fund operators, but I said “beggars can’t be choosers” and he had the decency to look a little ashamed of himself.In the evening we went to the Cummings’ for a few fireworks. It drizzled, and I thought it was pretty boring. One of the roman candles fizzled out before it went off properly, and Gowing said “Pick it up and whack it on your boot and it’ll start up OK”. Which I did. The whole thing went up with a sudden bang and I burnt my fingers. I gave the rest of the candles to Cummings’ little son to let off.
Later I got a load of stick when Cummings hammered a huge catherine wheel onto a stake in the ground for the grand finale. Cummings was banging on about how fantastic it was and how much it had cost – twelve quid. Needless to say, it was hard to light, and when we eventually managed to get it working, it went round twice (slowly) and stopped. Great. I’d got a stick, so I gave it a tap to get it going properly. Wouldn’t you know it, it fell off the stake into the grass. Bloody hell. You’d have thought I’d set the house on fire, the way everyone went on at me. Forget fireworks parties. They’re a complete waste of time and money.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Carrie and I are worried about young Lupin having decided to get married without giving us any prior warning. After we’d eaten, he told us all about it. The girl’s name is Daisy Mutlar. Apparently, she’s the hottest and smartest girl he’s ever met. He fell head over heels in love with her the minute they met. He said he’d do anything for her, and he knew that she’d do anything for him. Anything.Lupin said lots more besides. A world without Daisy was a world not worth living in. With her, it was a changed and beautiful place. His life now had a purpose, and that purpose was to make Daisy Mutlar Daisy Pooter, and he guaranteed that she‘d do the Pooter family proud. Carrie burst into tears, threw her arms round Lupin, and promptly knocked a celebratory glass of red wine out of his hand, which went all over his cream trousers.
I said I was sure we’d get on with Daisy when we met her, but Carrie said she loved her already. I thought this a bit premature, but didn’t say anything. And then it was all Daisy this, Daisy that, and Daisy the other, all day long. I asked Lupin about her folks, and he said “You know – Mutlar, Williams and Watts”. I didn’t know, actually, but didn’t say so in case it led to an argument.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Great news. Barry Perkupp’s sorted out some post for Lupin, and he’s going to go in and talk it through next week. What a relief. I went up to Lupin’s room to give him the good news, but he was in bed and looking dire, so I decided to tell him about it in the evening.
Barry Perkupp
Lupin said he’d joined a group called the Comedy Kings at the King’s Head in Holloway. He’d had a good night there, but he’d been sitting right underneath the air conditioning, and as a result he’d got a migraine. He didn’t want any breakfast, so I left him to it.
In the evening, I dug out a decent bottle of Cava in readiness for the big announcement. I charged our glasses. “Lupin” I said “I’ve some excellent news for you. Barry Perkupp’s managed to get you a job”. Lupin said “Cool” and we downed the Cava.
Lupin then said “Top them up. I’ve got some excellent news for you too”. I felt a bit uneasy, as did Carrie. She said “I hope we’ll think it’s excellent”. Lupin said “Of course you will! I’m engaged!”
Lupin said, “Of course you will! I’m engaged!”
Friday, October 30, 2009
I spent a quiet evening in with Carrie. It’s always nice, just the two of us. We chatted about an article on marriage in one of the papers titled “Wedded Boredom”. There’s been no question of boredom for us. Not at all. We got so engrossed in talking about loads of happy memories that we never noticed it was past midnight. We were startled when the front door slammed violently. Lupin was back. He stamped straight up to bed without turning off the hall light or even looking in on us. I called to him to come down for a minute, but he just shouted “Sorry. Knackered. ‘Night”. If he was knackered, he had a weird way of showing it. For half an hour he was banging about in his room singing at the top of his voice. I couldn’t work out what. All I could gather was that someone’s sex was on fire.Thursday, October 29, 2009
That thing yesterday – “retired tired” – quite funny. I didn’t notice it at the time. If I wasn’t so anxious about stuff right now, I’m sure I’d have been able to make a gag out of it. I spoke to the carpet guy, who said he’d only moved the router and hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. I’d be happy to pay someone – anyone – to get this sorted. Bloody computers.Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Got an e-mail from Barry Perkupp saying he reckons there might be a job going for Lupin, which cheered me up a bit. I’ve been fed up at having lost these files, and really annoyed at all the futile approaches to companies I’ve been making on Lupin’s behalf. Spoke to Anya who said she’d never used a computer, wouldn’t know how to, and certainly wouldn’t touch mine.I said I was determined to get to the bottom of it, and she said she’d do her best to help sort it out. She remembered a guy who’d been fixing the carpet at one point knocking a plug out and then fiddling with the computer afterwards, so maybe that was it. I’ll call him tomorrow. I wish Carrie hadn’t given Lupin a key. We never see him. I sat up until well past one, and eventually retired tired.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The past five or six weeks of my diary have disappeared from the “My Documents” folder. It’s a nightmare! When I bought the computer at PC World, I made a point of choosing one with a large hard drive, so I’d have plenty of space for my files.I asked Carrie if she knew anything about it. She said it was my own fault for leaving the computer on all day with all and sundry wandering about, including Anya (the cleaner). I said that wasn’t an answer to my question (pretty smart of me, I think). It would have had a bit more impact if I hadn’t knocked a vase off the table at the same time. It smashed.
Carrie got really upset: it was one of a pair we’d had given to us as a wedding present by Mrs Burtsett, an old friend of her cousins (the Pommertons) in Dalston, and there was no way we’d be able to replace it. I rang the technical support people at PC World who were completely useless and asked if I’d been making regular backups (which I hadn’t). Noticed in my internet history that various Polish sites had been visited recently. So someone Polish has clearly been using my machine. I shall have to speak to Anya when she’s here next.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Annie’s making a fool out of Carrie. She appeared in some psyechedelic hippy print frock. Annie said it was all the rage. I said it put me in a rage. She also had a load of beads which looked like one of those hideous curtains people hang up over doorways. Annie went back home, and Lupin and I were both delighted. It’s first time we’ve agreed about anything since he’s been back. DeLaurents haven’t got any vacancies.Tuesday, August 25, 2009
There’s a large brick in the middle of the flowerbed. Clearly, it’s come from next door. JDK Asset Management can’t offer Lupin any hope of a job.Monday, August 24, 2009
Carrie and Annie went off shopping, and hadn’t returned by the time I got back from the office. Judging by their chat later, Annie’s been filling Carrie’s head with a load of rubbish about clothes. I popped over to Gowing’s and asked him to drop in for supper, to lighten the mood.Carrie knocked up a bit of a buffet with sliced meats, some smoked salmon (she told me not to eat any, in case there wasn’t enough to go round), and an M&S trifle. Annie got us to play Trivial Pursuit. But in the middle Lupin got up and said, “This is far too hard core for me. I think I’ll go and have a quiet game of patience on the patio instead, if you don’t mind”. The sarcasm irritated me.
Things might have got a bit uncomfortable, but Gowing (who seems to get on with Lupin like a house on fire) suggested we should have a go at inventing games. Lupin said “Right. Let’s play “Monkeys””. He dragged Gowing round the room, ending up in front of the mirror. I creased up. Later on, everybody was sniggering at some joke which they never explained, and it was only when I got to bed that I discovered that a serviette smeared in trifle had got stuck to the back of my shirt.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Nearly missed Andrew Marr because Annie was jabbering on about what she was going to wear. Lupin doesn’t get on with her. I’m afraid we’re going to have trouble with next door. They moved in on Wednesday. Several of their friends, who have loud sports cars, have already caused a nuisance.Early evening a day or two ago I was out in the garden, wearing my summer hat to keep the sun off, when a man, sitting in some kind of jazzy soft top, started singing “I come from a land down under” or some such rubbish. I reckoned it was directed at me, and I was right. Whilst I was ambling about in the garden this afternoon, one of those small bangers was deliberately aimed at my hat and went off. I turned round sharply and I could have sworn I saw the same man retreating from one of the bedroom windows.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Annie arrived, bringing a huge bunch of wild flowers. The more I see of her, the more I like her. She went upstairs with Carrie, and they spent an hour talking about fashion stuff. Lupin said he wasn’t surprised at her coming to stay, but he was surprised at her. (Whatever that means).Friday, August 21, 2009
To cheer Lupin up, Carrie invited Annie James across for a few days. We thought we’d keep it as a nice surprise for him.Thursday, August 20, 2009
I bought a pair of wall-mounted wrought iron candle holders. They’re designed to hold a tea light. They’ll look just right in the hall, and give it an extra touch of style. They’re very well finished. HR in Transfinance haven’t any openings for Lupin at the moment, but say they’ll keep his details on file.
I hung up a wrought-iron candle holder
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Home sweet home! Carrie bought some pretty sea-grass mats to stand vases on. I got an e-mail from HR in Centriva saying they had no vacancies.Monday, August 17, 2009
Our last day at the seaside, and the weather was looking good, though a bit cloudy. We went across to Cummings’ chalet at Corton, and since it was cold, we had a bite to eat and messed around playing some games. As per usual, Gowing overstepped the mark. He suggested playing Twister, and when Carrie started (left and right foot on blue) he said “Come on Carrie, darling, time for some fun: get down and spread your legs”. Filth.
We play “Twister”
We were all twisted up like a bunch of contortionists. Suddenly Gowing, who was at the centre of the whole thing, leapt up shouting “Fire! Fire! The room’s on fire!”.
The game started and we ended up laughing hysterically, all twisted up like a bunch of contortionists. Suddenly Gowing, who was at the centre of the whole thing, leapt up shouting “Fire! Fire! The room’s on fire!”. We tumbled all over the place, and there was pandemonium until we realised that it was another of Gowing’s (hilarious) jokes. Not so hilarious was the fact that Carrie ended up banging her head on the fireplace. Polly put some Savlon on the bruise, but what with all the upset, I didn’t think it would be wise to walk back, so I had to shell out ten quid to travel all of a few miles back to Gunton Hall. Daylight robbery.
Gowing leapt up shouting “Fire! Fire! The room’s on fire!”
Sunday, August 16, 2009
I was about to lecture Lupin on the dangers of smoking (he gets through about 40 a day), but he put his sunglasses on and walked off. Carrie then started to lecture me on the stupidity of treating Lupin like a baby. I thought she might have a point, so in the evening I suggested we sit out on the terrace by the bar and have a drink together. He seemed pleased. I got him a half of Carling. He turned his nose up at it, went off to the bar, and returned with four bottles of Corona and some Tequila slammers and said “Try this for size, fella”.Saturday, August 15, 2009
Gowing and Cummings popped over to fix an evening at Corton. Since it was wet, Gowing asked Cummings whether he’d fancy a game of pool (he knows I never play: I think it’s doubtful). Cummings said he had to head back. I was mortified when Lupin said to Gowing “Mate, I’ll give you a game for a tenner! It’ll help me work up an appetite for dinner”. I said “Perhaps Mister Gowing isn’t up for a game with someone of your age”. Gowing surprised me by saying “No probs. As long as he can play a bit – he’s my man”, and off they went together.Friday, August 14, 2009
Since things weren’t working out too well on the Lupin front, Carrie and I went off on a speedboat round the bay. I was relieved that it was just the two of us together for a change. When anything Lupin does irritates me, Carrie always sides with him. When we got back, he said “Hey! You’ve done the Speed Barfing thing! Fancy a fiver’s worth of Bollock Busting?" I assumed he was alluding to hiring a mountain bike, but I pretended I didn’t know what he meant.Thursday, August 13, 2009
Lupin flatly refused to walk along the front with me because I was wearing my Crocodile Dundee hat and a Hawaiian shirt. I don’t know what’s up with him.
Lupin flatly refused to walk along the front with me
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
It cleared up a bit, so we all went off into Lowestoft. The first person we met on the pier was Gowing. I said “Hi there! I thought you’d gone to Jersey with your mates from Birmingham”. He said “Yes, but Pete Lawrence was really ill, so they postponed it. There was a Warners offer in the Express, and we managed to get a last minute cancellation at Corton. Did you know the Cummings are here too?” Carrie said “Oh great! Let’s get together some evening and have a laugh”.I introduced Lupin and said “What do you reckon? Pooter Junior’s back home”. Gowing said “How come? Lost your job at the bank?"
I quickly changed the subject, just in case Gowing decided to ask any awkward questions (as he tends to).
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I was peeved to discover that Lupin, rather than reading last night, had headed out into Lowestoft and gone to some dubious bar called “Vegas” to watch a drag show. I made it clear that drag shows were not my idea of respectable entertainment, but he said “It was a one-off. I was fed up, so I thought I’d take a look at Pussy Feltwell, England’s premier Drag Diva”. I told him I was pleased to say that I’d never heard of the man/woman (whatever), but Carrie said “Oh leave him alone, Charlie. He’s old enough to look after himself, and he’s hardly going to start acting like a yob. Remember, you were young once”. It rained hard all day but Lupin wouldn’t go out.Monday, August 10, 2009
Fantastic! We’re at Gunton Hall, just along the way from Corton Holiday Village. Just as good, and a fair bit cheaper because the room’s not overlooking the sea. We arrived in time to catch dinner, though Lupin got a bit narky (just because there was a fly in the butter). It was very wet in the evening, which gave me an excuse to turn in early. Lupin said he’d stay up for a while and read.Saturday, August 08, 2009
Although it’s not so good having Lupin around, it’s some consolation to know he was sacked simply because he “took no interest in his work, and always arrived an hour (sometimes two hours) late”. We can all head off to Gunton Hall on Monday feeling a little easier. The trip will take my mind off the worries I’ve had during the past few days, primarily because of a load of wasted correspondence with the Natwest manager in Oldham.Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Barry Perkupp says I can postpone my holiday for a week, because of the mix up with the booking. It’ll give me a chance to help Will get some kind of job sorted. I’d be chuffed if he could get a job in our company.Monday, August 03, 2009
There was no sign of Lupin by nine o’clock, so I knocked on his bedroom door, told him we usually had breakfast at half eight, and asked him when he’d be up. Lupin said he was “knackered” from the trains going past all night and from the sun coming straight in the window, and he’d got a cracking headache. Carrie came up and offered to bring him breakfast in bed. He said he didn’t want any food, just a cup of tea.He still wasn’t around at half one, so I went up and told him we’d be having lunch at two. He said he’d be “down in a minute”. In the end, he didn’t emerge until quarter to three. I said, “We’ve hardly seen you since you’ve been down, and you’re going to have to go soon if you want to get the train back, unless you’re planning to get up at the crack of dawn”.
He said “Get real. Work it out. I’ve resigned from the bank”. I was at a loss for words. Eventually I said “What’s up with you? You can’t do that! Certainly not without discussing it with me! Sit down, right now, and send an e-mail to the bank. Withdraw your resignation and apologise for whatever trouble you’ve caused”.
Imagine how I felt when Lupin laughed out loud and said “I doubt that’d do any good. If you want to know the truth – I’ve been sacked”.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
We’ve not seen Willie since Christmas, and he’s really grown. Looks like a young man. It’s hard to believe he’s Carrie’s son – he looks more like her brother. I don’t like him slobbing around the house in cut-offs, flip-flops and a T-shirt (this isn’t Newquay), but I didn’t comment on it because he said he was tired after the journey. We had a bottle of Jacob’s Creek at dinner to celebrate his visit.He said “Hey, I’ve cut my first name, William, and opted for my middle one,“Lupin”, instead. Up in Oldham, I’m only known as “Lupin Pooter”. If you asked for “Willie” up there, they wouldn’t know who you were talking about”.
Since Lupin was an old family name, Carrie was delighted and she started reeling off a big long saga relating to the Lupins. I interrupted and said I thought William was a nice simple name. I reminded Willie that it was what his uncle had been called, and his uncle had been very well respected in the banking business. Willie said “Yeah yeah. Whatever. “Good old Bill”” and helped himself to a third glass of wine.
I said “Willie, I hope everything’s going well at the bank?" He replied “It’s Lupin. Got it? Lupin. Oh yeah, and the bank: the staff are morons and the manager’s mental”. I was so shocked I couldn’t say a word. Clearly, there’s something up.
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Got up, logged on, and found an e-mail from Willie (our son) saying thanks for a small present Carrie had sent for his birthday (he was 20 the day before yesterday). We were amazed when he turned up on the doorstep in the afternoon. He’d come down from Oldham: he’d got a day’s leave from the bank.
Lupin
Friday, July 31, 2009
A beautiful day. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. Carrie’s bought some kind of collapsible beach chair with a canopy which is huge. I told her it looked ridiculous. She said Annie James had one twice the size, so the matter dropped. I got myself a great hat to keep the sun off. I don’t know what it’s called, but it looks a bit like one of those ones worn by Crocodile Dundee (without the corks). Got some sports socks to go with my sandals down at Primark, and then spent the evening getting packed. Carrie reminded me to borrow Chris Higgsworth’s binoculars, so I popped across to get them. Everything was looking good, until I checked my e-mail and opened something from Corton’s e-booking admin. It was an automated notification saying there had been a computer error and there’d been a double booking. There were limited vacancies available at Corton’s partner resort Gunton Hall (nearby) but only from Monday onwards, since they’re booked all the bank holiday week.Thursday, July 30, 2009
Got confirmation we could have the same chalet we’d had last year, so that’s good. I bought myself a striped shirt, and a pair of ox-blood coloured shoes which loads of smart city types seem to be wearing: they’re very classy, they tell me.Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Got a new suit at Burton’s. The trousers on the last one were slightly flared (they’d told me this was the preferred cut now) but when I was passing Michael Pitt’s desk (he’s the self-appointed office comedian), he started singing “Night Fever” in a stupid falsetto voice. Carrie got herself a cotton shift with an African-style print like she‘d seen in Bella magazine, and a straw beach hat. In the evening, she spent a bit of time fixing some chiffon round it, whilst I read to her from the local paper. We had a good laugh when I tried the hat on. Carrie said it looked hysterical with my sideburns. She thought people would have laughed themselves sick if they saw it in a sitcom or something.
Michael Pitt started singing “Night Fever” in a stupid falsetto voice
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Carrie liked the bracelet. I’d left it with a nice little note on her dressing table before I headed for bed last night. I told her we’d need to shift our holiday forward and leave next Saturday. She said no problem (except the weather was so abysmal), but she was worried about getting a summer dress sorted in time. I told her I thought the white cotton one she got from Zara was fine. Carrie was adamant it wasn’t. I was going to say more, but remembered yesterday’s fall out, and didn’t.I said to Carrie “How’s about we head off to Corton Coastal Village?” I thought she really liked the place, but instead she said “No way, it’s a dump”. I was a bit shocked, to tell the truth. I looked at the time, realised I was running late, and rushed out of the house saying “I’ll leave it to you Carrie – you decide”. When I got back after work, Carrie said since there wasn’t much time, she reckoned Corton would do, and she’d done an e-booking in conjunction with an offer running in the Mail.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The weather’s been cold and horrible, and it’s either upsetting me or Carrie or both of us. We keep having arguments about nothing, usually at meal times. For some reason we were talking about balloons this morning. We were having a bit of a laugh, and then the conversation drifted into stuff about family. All of a sudden Carrie started having a go about all the financial difficulties my father had had. I told her that whatever the rights or wrongs of it, he’d always been a real gentleman. Carrie burst out crying. I couldn’t touch my breakfast.At the office, Barry Perkupp told me he was sorry about the short notice, but there were staffing problems and if it was at all possible, could I re-schedule my holiday to start next Saturday? Jim Franching dropped in to the office and invited me out for a meal at “Platinum” (some private members club he goes to). After this morning’s fall out, I was worried Carrie might get a bit moody, so I sent her a text saying I was off out with Franching and she needn’t wait up. Bought a bracelet for Carrie.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
How embarrassing. I ran into Jim Franching, who lives in Greenwich. He’s a bit of a mover and shaker. We were chatting and (in the way you do) I invited him back to our place for a bite to eat, not thinking he’d accept. So I was slightly taken aback when he said he’d love to, because he fancied a bit of company. Then he insisted on driving me back in his brand new Lexus LS (“the Japanese Mercedes” he called it). He said he’d lost a load of money (something to do with a fund linked to Madoff), but if some scheister thought he could take his wheels on the back of a cheap-skate Ponzi scheme, he had another think coming.
Jim Franching from Greenwich
It looked pretty impressive, pulling up in the driveway outside the house in his “wheels”. But the front door was double locked, and through the glass, I could see Carrie running upstairs. I told Jim to wait at the front, while I went round to the side. I found the cat scratching at the door, having left nasty claw marks all over it. No time to reprimand him; so had to go round the back and climb in through the kitchen window. I let Jim in, showed him into the living room, and went up to see Carrie. She was changing out of her jeans into a dress. I told her that I’d asked Jim back for a bite to eat. She said “What the...? There’s hardly anything in the fridge, you idiot”.
The cat was leaving nasty claw marks all over the door
Eventually, she went down, and unloaded the dishwasher and sorted the dining room table. I gave Franching a copy of Homes and Gardens to look at, and slipped out to the Spar to get some garlic bread, dips, tortillas and Indian mini-snacks.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
I picked up the shirts from Johnson’s. Irritatingly, the repairs cost more than the shirts had done in the first place. I kicked up quite a fuss, and the man behind the counter got very wound up. He said “They’re actually a lot better now than they were when you first got them”. Eventually I paid up but told him it was daylight robbery. He said “Your choice. Next time, don’t bother coming in here, and don’t bother with repairs. Just go down to Lidl and buy a dozen crap shirts for £9.99”.Monday, June 01, 2009
Carrie and I went round to the Cummings’ place for a quiet night in. Gowing was there, and Stillbrook. Cummings was keen to try out a karaoke DVD he’d bought and his wife did five songs or so. I’m no expert, but I reckoned “The Green Green Grass of Home” and “Songbird” (Eva Cassidy) were the best. Then she sang “Bridge Over Troubled Water” as a duet with Carrie. It was really good. If Carrie had been in better voice, I think it would have been up to professional standards, so after we’d eaten, we got them to do it again.I hadn’t been at all keen on Stillbrook (following the golf club debacle), but when he sang “The Funky Gibbon” (with all the actions), it was hilarious and he had everyone in stitches. He improvised in one verse, but it was slightly racist. I didn’t feel comfortable with it: Gowing thought it was a stroke of genius and the best bit of the whole song.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
We played “Consequences” again tonight. Not quite as funny as yesterday, largely because Gowing got a bit lewd and overstepped the mark a number of times.Friday, May 29, 2009
Everything’s happily back on track this past week. Carrie’s returned, Gowing and Cummings have been popping in, and with the warmer evenings, we’ve sat out on the decking ’til fairly late a couple of times with the patio heater on. This evening, we were like a pack of kids and played “Consequences”. It’s a good game.Saturday, May 23, 2009
Left the shirts at Johnson’s. I said “I’m ’fraid they’re frayed”. Without a ghost of a smile the guy said “It’s bound to happen”. Some people haven’t got any sense of humour at all.Friday, May 22, 2009
Carrie brought down some of my shirts and suggested I take them to Johnson’s to get them repaired because the cuffs were a bit frayed. Without missing a beat, I said “I’m frayed they are”. How we hooted at that one! I didn’t think we’d stop. At the station, I told the guy on the platform about the “frayed” shirts, and he laughed out loud. They enjoyed the joke at work as well.Thursday, May 21, 2009
Brilliant. Carrie’s back, looking really well, bar a bit of sunburn on her nose.Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I got a peculiar e-mail from Gowing, saying “Offended? No way. I thought you were offended with me because I lost my temper. Anyway, I discovered it wasn’t my uncle’s umbrella after all. Just a cheap one I’d got down at Primark. Thanks for the present all the same – much appreciated”.Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I got a new golf umbrella, with special vents so you could use it in the wind . It cost £25 (I’ll tell Carrie it was £15). I left it in Gowing’s porch with a note by way of apology.Monday, May 18, 2009
The last week or so has been really boring. Carrie’s been away at Annie’s in Beckenham. Cummings is away. Gowing (presumably) is offended and still not talking to me because of the stencils on the umbrella.Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Really fed up. I got the Harrow Times again, and there was the following: “We have received two e-mails from Mr and Mrs Charles Pewter requesting us to announce that they were at the Civic Hall LCCI evening, attended by Boris Johnson”. I tore it up and threw it in the bin. Time’s too precious to waste on this kind of rubbish.Saturday, May 09, 2009
I got a single copy of the Harrow Times. There was a short correction to the previous article with various names included. The idiots had us down as Mr and Mrs C. Porter. What a pain. I mailed them again, putting our name in capitals – POOTER – so that they’d get it right, for once and for all.Wednesday, May 06, 2009
I’m still pretty under the weather. My vision’s gone a bit weird. The Harrow Times has a report on the other night, with a list of guests. I was irritated that our names were missing, whilst Farmerson’s was there (with MLL after it – whatever the hell that means). I was really fed up, because I’d ordered some extra copies to show to friends. I e-mailed the Times to tell them they’d missed our names out.Carrie was already eating breakfast when I came down. I got myself some tea, and said to her (quite calmly) “So what was up with you last night?"
She replied “What do you mean? More to the point, what was up with you the night before?”
I said “I don’t know what you’re talking about”.
She said, sarcastically, “Probably not. I doubt you can remember anything at all”.
This was right out of order, and I said, really sharply, “Caroline!”.
She said, “There’s no call for that. Don’t be such a bloody drama queen. You can keep that for your new best friend “Johnny”, the builder”.
I was going to interrupt, but Carrie suddenly went off on one. I’d never seen her in such a temper before. She told me to shut up, and then said “Now. It’s my turn to say something. After banging on about how much you dislike Farmerson, suddenly you’re off knocking back champagne with him like there’s no tomorrow. And then you ask this builder – who made a total cock up of removing the urn – to come back in our cab. I don’t complain when he treads on my dress and tears it, or knocks the Prada bag on the ground and doesn’t even apologise or pick it up; but then he sits their swigging whiskey all the way home. And that’s not all by a long chalk. When we get back, he doesn’t offer to pay a penny towards his share of the cab, and then – and then – you ask him in! Thank God he was still vaguely sober enough to realise I was sick of the sight of him”.
The Laurels
Oh God. I felt absolutely dreadful. To make matters worse, suddenly there’s Gowing coming into the room, with a mop dangling over his head, and my old school scarf round his neck. “Cripes! Yaroo! What a topping shindig! Boris bagsies the canapes, you stinkers, what?" He marched around the room looking like a total arse, and since we were ignoring him, he stopped and said “Whoops! What’s all this. Bit of a domestic?”
There was an uncomfortable silence and I said “Gowing, I’m not well, and I’m not in the mood for your messing about, particularly when you come into the house without knocking. It’s not funny”.
Gowing said “Sorry. I just called in for my umbrella”. I handed it to him. It was the one I’d painted with the stencils. He looked at it and said “What the …? Who did this?”
I said “Did what?”
He said “This! It was my uncle’s golf umbrella. He had it for years, and gave it to me specially. It’s all I have to remember him by.”
I said “I’m so sorry. It was me. I thought it would improve it. You can probably get it off with some stripper”.
Gowing said, “You’ve got no respect, you, no respect whatsoever, and if it’s possible – which it isn’t – you’re an even bigger idiot than you look”.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
I woke with a cracking headache. I couldn’t see straight, and felt like I’d got a really bad crick in my neck. I thought about calling the doctor but, in the end, decided against it. Got up, felt really woozy, and went down to the chemist’s who gave me some kind of herbal preparation called “Berocca” (tablets which went all fizzy in water). I felt so bloody awful at the office, that I had to ask to leave early. I went to Boots and got some Resolve. The Berocca had made me feel worse, if anything. Ate nothing all day. To compound it all, every time I spoke to Carrie she was completely monosyllabic – that’s if she said anything at all.In the evening, I felt even worse, and said to her “I reckon I’ve got food poisoning, probably from those prawn canapes last night”. She didn’t take her eyes off whatever was on the TV and just said “Champagne never agreed with you”. I was peeved and said “That’s utter rubbish. I only had a couple of glasses, and you know as well as I do…” Before I could finish, she flounced out of the room. I sat around for an hour, but she didn’t come back in, so I decided to go to bed. She was in there already – she’d not even come to say goodnight. So I had to chain the front door and feed the cat. I’m going to have this out with her in the morning.
Monday, May 04, 2009
A real red letter day – viz. the London Chamber of Commerce and Industry reception at the Civic Hall, in the presence of the Lord Mayor of London, Boris Johnson. I had to get dressed at five, because Carrie wanted to clear the decks to get ready properly. Annie had come up from Beckenham to help, and kept running around looking for stuff, so I ended up answering the door to all and sundry in full evening dress.The last time it was another delivery driver from Somerfield, who stuck a load of bags in my hand. I said “can’t you see I’m dressed for an important formal occasion?”, so I dropped them immediately, asked him to leave the rest on the step, and got so worked up that I called him a bloody idiot. He said I was out of order, and he’d report me, and left in a strop. I was trying to get the bags sorted, but tripped on one of them, fell down, and ended up flat on my back on the step. A jar of Dolmio sauce got broken in the process. I felt really giddy, but eventually managed to stagger into the living room. I looked in the mirror, and discovered my chin was bleeding, my shirt had a trail of sauce on it, and the knee of my left trouser leg was torn.
It was another delivery driver from Somerfield, who stuck a load of bags in my hand
Annie bought down a fresh shirt - not a proper dress one, mind you - and I changed into it in the living room. I stuck a small elastoplast on my chin, and Annie quickly (and very neatly, I might add) sewed up the tear. At seven o’clock, Carrie swept into the room, looking positively regal. I’ve never seen her looking so gorgeous, or so striking. She was wearing a satin dress (sky blue – my favourite colour) and a lace shawl (which Annie had lent her) around her neck to finish it off. I thought the dress was maybe a little too long behind, and the slit up the leg was certainly a bit too revealing, but Annie said it was what everyone was wearing this season. Annie was really kind, and leant Carrie a small clutch bag which she said was really expensive because it was one of a very limited Prada edition. Personally, I preferred the one she’d got from House of Fraser last year, but the two of them told me I hadn’t a clue.
We got to the Civic Hall a little too early, but I actually got to speak with the Lord Mayor who very graciously took a few moments to talk to me. I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t know Barry Perkupp, my Manager.
It was like we’d been invited to the Civic Hall by someone who didn’t actually know anyone influential at all. Crowds of people arrived, and the whole thing looked absolutely spectacular. I can’t even begin to describe it. I got a bit fed up with Carrie: she kept saying, “It’s a pity we don’t know anyone, isn’t it”. So?
At one point she panicked. I spotted someone on the other side of the room who looked like Franching (from Greenwich) and headed off towards him. Carrie grabbed the back of my dinner jacket, and squealed “Don’t leave me!”. An old guy (who looked like a real stuffed shirt) and two women burst out laughing at her. There were waiters and waitresses going round with plates full of fantastic canapés, and there was non-stop champagne. You could drink as much as you liked.
Carrie was gobbling up the canapes. Half the time she eats next to nothing and I worry she’s going to fade away, so I was quite relieved to see it. She tried everything. I was pretty thirsty, so I didn’t eat much. At one point, someone slapped me on the shoulder. I turned round to see John Farmerson (the builder) of all people. He was all matey with me and said “Hey fella! Good to see you. What d’ya think? Beats bloody Elmside, doesn’t it” I said “And what are you doing here exactly?” which seemed to crack him up, because he roared with laughter and said “Ooo! Hark at her!” in a camp voice, and then said “Well you’re here. Why shouldn’t I be?" I replied “Of course”. I wish I’d been able to think of something more cutting. Farmerson said “Can I get anything for the good lady?" Carrie said, “No thank you”. I was chuffed with her for that, because I thought he was a bit out of order talking to me the way he was. I said “You’ve still not properly explained how you severed the gas main”. He said “Excuse me Mr Pooter, I think you’ll find it’s not the done thing to talk about business on a night like this”.
Before I could work out what to say to that, a man with some kind of medal on a gold ribbon round his neck (Chairman of the LCCI Committee, I later discovered) came across to Farmerson, slapped him on the back, hailed him like he was some kind of long-lost brother, and asked him to dine at his lodge sometime soon. Incredible. For about five minutes they fell about laughing, in hysterics, and they kept saying they didn’t look a day older than last time. They put their arms across each other’s shoulder and toasted themselves with copious amounts of champagne.
I don’t quite see how a builder (like Farmerson) can (seemingly) be such good friends with someone who occupies a fairly important position in the business community. I was moving off with Carrie, when Farmerson grabbed me and said to the Chairman “Here, meet my neighbour Charlie”. (A bit of a cheek: he barely knows me. Wouldn’t it have been more polite to call me Mr Pooter?). The Chairman handed me some champagne. I told him it was an honour to meet with him, and we chatted for a while. Eventually I said, “You’re going to have to excuse me – I think I should be joining my wife”. I went up to Carrie and she said “Oh. It’s you. Please don’t let me take you away from your new best friend. I’m quite happy standing here, all by myself, in the middle of a crowd of complete strangers”.
It was hardly the best place for us to start having a go at each other, so I held out my arm and said “How about a dance, my darling. Won’t it be nice, in future years, to look back on the night we danced at a glittering event with Boris Johnson?" There was a small big band there (if that’s not a contradiction in terms), doing a mix of stuff. Carrie had liked my dancing way back, so I held my hand out to her, she took it, and we started a slow kind of jive.
Then it all went pear-shaped. I’d hired some patent leather shoes from Moss Bros, and still not quite got to grips with them. We’d just started dancing, and I was executing a neat little move (they call it a “man spin”), when my left foot slid out from under me, and I fell flat on my back. I cracked the side of my head on the floor so hard that for a moment, I hadn’t a clue what had happened. Of course, Carrie landed all in a heap on top of me, grazing her elbow and breaking the big clip thing in her hair in the process.
A load of people burst out laughing, but shut up as soon as they realised we’d genuinely hurt ourselves. A man helped Carrie to a seat, whilst I dusted myself off and made my feelings pretty clear about the health and safety implications of a highly polished floor. I told everyone that I would consider putting in a personal injury claim against the council. The man (he was called Darwitts) suggested taking Carrie off to get her a glass of wine, and I was happy to consent.
I followed, and ran into Farmerson who said “Oh. Was it you who went arse over tit?"
I just gave him a nasty look.
Rather patronisingly he said, “Mate, you and I are well too far over the hill for this kind of stuff. Leave it to the “yoof”. Let’s get a few in. That’s what we’re best at”.
Although I thought I was ducking out, I agreed and we went into the main banqueting area.
After this whole embarrassing incident, Carrie and I didn’t feel like staying much longer. As we were going, Farmerson said “If you’re off, do you mind giving me a lift?”
I thought it best to say OK, but I wish I’d asked Carrie first.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
I was watching Andrew Marr, but it was pretty uninteresting, and I ended up thinking about tomorrow’s reception quite a bit.Saturday, May 02, 2009
Bought a silk handkerchief for next Monday, and a clip-on bow tie, just in case I can’t get to grips with the real one.Friday, May 01, 2009
Carrie’s mother sent back the invitation, with apologies. She’d spilt some coffee on it. I was too furious to say anything.Thursday, April 30, 2009
Carrie nipped down to Annie James’ place in Beckenham to chat about what kind of dress she’d wear next Monday. I was having a word with Harry Spotch, one of the other managers at work, and he said “Yeah, I’ve been asked along, but I don’t think I’ll be going”. When someone like Harry’s had an invite (to be blunt, he’s not particularly classy), it rather tarnished the invitation for me. In the evening I went to pick up my dinner suit from Moss Bros, only to discover Carrie had ‘borrowed‘ my credit card out of my wallet, so I was unable to pay.Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I had a look at the Moss Bros website for a suitable DJ to hire. Rather expensive when you add extras such as a cummerbund and silk scarf. E-mailed Gowing to say we’d be out next Monday because we’d be busy at the Civic Hall reception. Mailed likewise to Cummings.Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Carrie said “I’d like to send the invitation to mother, just to look at”. I said fine, as soon as I’d replied. Feeling rather proud about the whole thing, I told Barry Perkupp at work that we’d been invited to the Civic Hall. He said he knew – it was him who’d given my name to the people there. Somehow, I felt this devalued the invitation, but I thanked him anyway, and he told me how I should respond to it. It seemed a bit basic to me, but Barry knows best I’m sure.Monday, April 27, 2009
I was absolutely amazed to receive an invitation for Carrie and me to attend a London Chamber of Commerce and Industry reception at the Civic Hall, which will be attended by Boris Johnson. I was incredibly excited. We had to read the invitation two or three times before it sank in, and I could hardly touch my breakfast. I said – and I felt it very strongly – “I tell you Carrie, my love, when I led you down the aisle on our wedding day it was one of the proudest moments of my life. But I feel just as proud now and maybe even more so, thinking that I’ll be able to take my gorgeous, beautiful wife to meet Boris Johnson at the Civic Hall”. I saw Carrie wiping away a small tear, and she said “Charlie dear, I’m the one who’s proud. Honestly. I’m very very proud of you. You say I’m beautiful, and as long as you think I’m beautiful, I’m happy. My dear sweet little Charlie: you’re not the most handsome of men, I know, but you’re a good man, and that’s what’s truly important to me”. I gave her a kiss and she said “I wonder if there’ll be any dancing? I haven’t danced for ages”.I don’t quite know what came over me, but I grabbed her hand and we went a bit mad and started doing a wild kind of jive (we’d done a class once, a long time ago) round the living room. Then there was a knock at the door, and a man appeared asking if we had a window cleaner. I was pretty peeved. I spent the evening trying to draft a proper reply to the invitation (without success), and I told Carrie that if Gowing or Cummings called, she should tell them to go away. I’ll have a chat with Barry Perkupp – he’ll know what way I need to reply.
I grabbed her hand and we went a bit mad and started doing a wild kind of jive
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I woke up with a splitting headache and something which felt like a real stinker of a cold coming on. Carrie got some stupid bee in her bonnet about it (like she usually does over these things) and said it was probably a respiratory condition of some sort caused by constantly inhaling toxic paint fumes over the past three days. I told her that when it came to working out what was wrong with me, I knew a lot better than she did, thank you very much. I was feeling feverish (all hot and cold), so I decided to run myself a very hot Radox bath. Ran it so hot I could hardly bear it, but managed to lower myself in eventually. It was steaming, but felt really good, and I just lay there for a while.I pulled my hand out of the water for a moment and – my god – I was more shocked than I’ve ever been in my life. My hand was covered in blood. I thought I’d severed an artery or something and was going to die (it was that bad), and suddenly (for some reason) imagined the whole situation being re-enacted on Holby City. I shouted for Carrie, but realised she was out. Finally I worked out it was the stencil paint, which must have dissolved in the boiling water. I got out of the bath, and found I was streaked all over with red, looking for all the world like a tribesman I’d seen on a Bruce Parry documentary about the Amazon. I decided not to say a word to Carrie, but got some turps from the shed and - with a lot of elbow grease - managed to get rid of all the paint.
I looked like a tribesman I’d seen on a Bruce Parry documentary
Saturday, April 25, 2009
This very young customer service operator Michael Pitt (new on the job) showed up late for work (again). I told him I was duty bound to report the incident to Barry Perkupp (our Manager). Surprisingly, Michael (“Mikey” to the others, apparently) apologised profusely. I was very pleased with this sudden turn round, so I told him I’d not take it any further with Barry or HR. I was walking through the office an hour or so later, and got hit in the face by an elastic band. I turned round quickly, but everyone seemed hard at it. I don’t throw money around, but I’d have given a tenner to anyone who could have told me whether it was deliberate or an accident. I went home early, bought some more stencils, and painted a few small designs on a couple of flower pots, the back of the TV remote, and an old lamp. Also did a nice one - a little garland of daisies - round the handle of Gowing’s umbrella (he’d left it behind the other day).Friday, April 24, 2009
I painted some fish and seaweed motifs in the bath in a nice terracotta colour. I thought they looked great. Unfortunately, Carrie didn’t, and we had a few cross words. She said I ought to have asked her first, and she’d never heard of anyone painting stencils IN a bath. I replied “It‘s merely a matter of taste”.We didn’t argue any further because someone shouted up the stairs “May I come in?” It was only Cummings, who said “The front door was on the latch, and I couldn’t seem to raise anyone with the bell”. He suggested trying out “My Word Coach” – his new Nintendo game. Just for the laugh I said “And I bet you’ll end up a real slow Coach in that department”. He said “Oh, ha ha ha” and sounded a bit shirty, I thought. He said he couldn’t hang around – he’d only popped in to drop off a copy of Top Gear which he’d finished with.
Another knock at the door: this time, it was Gowing. He said he was sorry for always coming over, and sometime soon we should get across to his place. I said “Something a bit weird’s just struck me”. “What’s the betting it’s really funny?” said Cummings. “It is actually” I said. “Even you will get it. It’s about the two of you. Wait for it. Doesn’t it seem odd that Gowing’s always coming, and Cummings is always going?” Carrie (who’d obviously forgotten all about the stencils in the bath) went into hysterics, and I doubled up in my chair til it literally cracked beneath me. Thinking about it, I’m sure it’s one of the best gags I’ve ever made.
But imagine my surprise: Cummings and Gowing said nothing at all and looked utterly stony faced. There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence. Cummings pulled out his mobile, looked at a message, put it away and said “You know what? I think I’ll be off. To tell you the truth, I don’t think your jokes are particularly funny”. Gowing said he liked a bit of banter, but this was plain silly, and it’s not like he hadn’t had people take the mick out of his name before. Cummings said if anyone else had said it, he’d have ignored them completely. It was all a bit of a downer: we could have had a good time, but didn’t. Then again, it was slightly fortunate. We didn’t have much in the fridge in the way of dips or anything.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I got some more stencils (this time including some tribal swirls and fish and seaweed designs), and tested them out on various small items. They freshened up really well.Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Since Brickwell told me his wife was working wonders with some special Homebase stencils, I reckoned I should try them out. I bought a couple of Celtic Cross and floral designs on my way home. Got my dinner down fairly smartish and then went to the garage to test them out on the back wall. I called out to Carrie who said “You’re always messing around with some new-fangled nonsense”, but then had to admit the designs looked pretty good. Went upstairs to our bedroom and painted a “dado rail” of flowers round the room. I felt it added some much-needed panache to the decor, but Carrie looked unimpressed and said she thought “it had looked a lot better before”.
I stencilled a “dado rail” in our bedroom
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Hardly slept a wink because I was fretting so much about having got David and Annie to come all the way up from Beckenham to see the show, then he’d paid for the tickets, and to cap it all, the play was rubbish. I wrote a withering e-mail to Dominic, the internet wine chap who’d given me the voucher, saying “Considering we had to pay for our seats, we did our best to apreciate the show”. I thought this line was particularly cutting, and I asked Carrie how many p’s there were in appreciate. She said “One”. After I’d sent the mail, I did a spell check and found it’s actually two. I was very irritated at this.Decided not to worry myself any more about David and Annie. As Carrie wisely pointed out “We can sort it out by asking them up from Beckenham some time next week for a meal”.
Monday, April 20, 2009
David and Annie James (Annie Fullers as was) came across for a quick bite to eat late in the afternoon, and then we headed off to The Tank. We got a tube to King’s Cross, and changed and went to the Angel. David even put a fiver on our Oysters, saying we’d paid for more than our fair share by buying the tickets.We got to the theatre. Interestingly, a lot of the rather scruffy looking crowd who’d come out of the tube were headed that way, except for some over-large Americans with backpacks. I went ahead to the box office and presented a print out of the mail. The man looked at it, called out “Zac! Any idea what this is?” and held it up. Another man came across, looked at it, and said “Where’d you get this from?" A bit put out, I said “Dominic Merton. Who else?" He said “Dominic Merton? Who’s he?" I said, pretty brusquely, “You ought to know. He knows all the major producers”. He replied “Does he. Well, I’m sorry. Means nothing to me. Oh, and just for your information, this mail comes from Callum Swinstead, the previous guy, and he’s gone”. It all got a bit heated, when David, who’d gone upstairs with Annie and Carrie, called out: “Come on!”. I went after him, and a pleasant young chap said “Could you come this way? I’ll show you to your seats – they’re on the gantry next to the lighting desk”. I said to David “How on earth did you get these sorted?” and to my horror he replied “Paid for them. How else?"
This was humiliating enough, and I could hardly understand the play, but there was still more humiliation to come. I’d dressed smartly in a nice cream jacket. There was a metal bar in front of me, which I leant on. Unfortunately, it was covered in rust, which left a big dirty mark right across the chest. To hide it, I had to keep my arms crossed for the rest of the evening, which made my shoulders ache.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Dominic got back to me, saying things were busy, and he couldn’t sort tickets for Joseph, The Sound of Music, Oliver or Chicago, but one of the best shows around was Brown Bushes at The Tank in Islington. He forwarded an e-mail authorising the four tickets, and attached an invoice for the wine.Friday, April 17, 2009
Carrie reminded me that her old school friend Annie Fullers (now Annie James) and her husband were going to be around for a few days, and said it’d be nice to take them to the theatre. She asked me to e-mail Dominic and ask for some complimentaries for Joseph, The Sound of Music, Oliver or Chicago, which I did.Thursday, April 16, 2009
Cummings called, bringing his friend Dominic Merton, who’s got this internet wine business. Gowing also dropped in. Dominic made himself at home, and Carrie and I took an instant liking to him. He seemed very much on our wavelength.He leaned back in his chair and said “Forgive me: what you see is what you get”. I replied “Same here – we’re pretty down to earth. We don’t pretend to be better than we are”.
He answered “No, I can see that” and Gowing laughed his head off. But Dominic politely said to Gowing “I don’t think you quite get my drift. What I was trying to say was that Charles and Carrie clearly don’t bother with what’s “in” and what’s “out”, and certainly aren’t the kind of people who’d waste their time hanging out in trendy restaurants and wine-bars, paying for it all on plastic”.
I was very pleased to hear Dominic’s take on things, and wrapped it up by saying “To be completely frank, Dominic, we can’t be bothered with that kind of scene. And when you factor in the cost of cabs and everything else, it simply doesn’t seem worth the money”.
On the subject of “friends”, Dominic said “My motto is “few and true”. And by the way, I also apply that to wine: “little and good””. Gowing said “Yes, and sometimes “cheap and cheerful”, eh mate?" Dominic continued that he’d treat me as a mate, and put me down for a New World Wine Selection sample case. Since I was an old friend of Gowing’s, he’d let it go for £45, which was actually well under cost price. He tapped the order into his iPhone and said anytime we wanted any West End theatre tickets, we should let him know, because he could get us into any of the shows.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
It looks like I’ve got a cold. I couldn’t stop sneezing in the office. When I got home, I asked Carrie to pop out and get some Night Nurse. I fell asleep on the sofa, and when I woke up, I was all shivery. I was startled by a knock on the door, then remembered the bell wasn’t working. It was Cummings. He patted me on the shoulder and said “No worries. I’ve just seen Gowing. We’ll say no more about it”. They’re obviously both under the impression I’ve apologised to them.Cummings and I had a game of Connect 4. He said “Do you fancy buying some booze? My cousin Dominic Merton has just set up an internet mail order service - and he’s got a fantastic malt at thirty quid a bottle, and a really good Merlot at £5.99. It’d be worth getting a few off him”. I told him my drinks cabinet was fully stocked right now. Embarrassingly, Carrie walked in and put half a bottle of whisky on the table, and said, “Sorry Charles, they’d run out of Night Nurse, but the man in the shop says this makes a great hot toddy for only £6.99 a bottle. Oh, and he asked if you wanted some more Piat D’Or, because it’s on 2-for-1 this week”.
“Sorry Charles, they’d run out of Night Nurse, but this makes a good hot toddy for only £6.99 a bottle.”
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I thought of writing Gowing and Cummings a more up-beat e-mail about last Sunday. At the same time, I was going to mention I wasn’t particularly impressed by Stillbrook. Afterwards, I deleted it. E-mails get misunderstood sometimes. I decided to have a quiet word with them instead. I was surprised to receive an e-mail from Cummings, saying he and Gowing were waiting for an explanation of MY (yes MY) strange behaviour on the way back on Sunday. Eventually I wrote “I thought I was the one who’d been hard done by. But as I’m happy to forget it, I’d have thought that you (who’re also feeling hard done by) would be happy to forget it too”.I’ve copied this word-for-word, because I think it’s one of the most carefully considered sentences I’ve ever written. I sent the e-mail, but to tell the truth, I felt like I was making an apology … for having been treated badly by them.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Did a bit of gardening after work. When it got dark, I came in and wrote an e-mail to Cummings and Gowing. Neither of them had been in touch: perhaps they were a bit embarrassed about the way they’d treated me yesterday. In the end I decided not to send it.Sunday, April 12, 2009
Stillbrook takes a call on his Blackberry - 3rd Fairway
At two, Cummings and Gowing drove round with a friend called Mike Stillbrook and we all headed over to Northwick Park to play nine holes at the public course there. We made our way round chatting together, except Stillbrook, who spent most of the time glued to his Blackberry.
Approaching the 6th green
Afterwards, we debated whether to go and get something to eat, but Stillbrook said he’d be fine with a beer in the clubhouse.
Heading back to the clubhouse
We arrived, but the man on reception wouldn’t let me into the bar because I was still wearing golf shoes, and hadn’t brought a spare pair to change into.
As I turned to leave I saw Stillbrook followed by Gowing and Cummings heading for the entrance. I thought I’d have a laugh at their expense, but to my surprise they’d all changed into loafers, and were allowed straight in.
Gowing called back to me and said “Sorry they’ll not let you in. We’ll only have a swift half. Back in a minute”. They vanished into the bar. I ended up waiting for nearly an hour. When they eventually came back out they were all in high spirits, and Stillbrook was the only one decent enough to apologise. He said, “Sorry you had to wait, but we got another round in, and, well … you know how it goes”. I didn’t say a word coming back in the car. I felt pretty fed up all evening, but didn’t think it would be wise to mention any of it to Carrie.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Spent the whole of the afternoon in the garden, having picked up a fantastic book by Alan Titchmarsh which was on offer in Waterstones. I got some half-hardy annuals at Notcutts, and sowed them in a border on the sunny side of the garden. I thought of a joke, and called to Carrie. She came out looking rather irritated. “Do you know what – this place is a public school”. She said “What are you talking about?” and I said “Look at the boarders”. Carrie said “Eh?” I said “Look at the boarders.” Carrie said “Is that all you wanted me for?” I said “Normally you’d laugh at a little joke like that.” Carrie said “Normally, yes, but not when I’m busy in the house”.The stairs look nice. Gowing called and said they looked all right but it now made the other side (the outside bit facing the hall) look all wrong. He said it needed painting as well. Carrie agreed. I rang Putley, but there was no reply. I’ll take steps to get it seen to later. Come to think of it, that’s quite funny.
Friday, April 10, 2009
An amazing coincidence. Carrie had got a woman in to make some calico covers for our conservatory chair and sofa, to stop the sun fading the upholstery. I recognised her immediately: years ago she worked for an old aunt of mine in Clapham. It’s a small world.Thursday, April 09, 2009
No sign of any sprouting in the herb garden. I left Farmerson trying to shift the urn, and when I came home, two workmen from Transco were with him. He’d been digging out the urn, and severed the gas main with his pick axe. He reckoned it was a ridiculous place to put a gas pipe and Portland Properties must be a right bunch of cowboys. Whatever his excuse, I’m the one who’ll end up out of pocket.After supper, Gowing dropped in. He’d been given a scented candle by a friend called Dave Shoemach who’d been to a Native American heritage centre in the States. He thought it would be nice to light it in the conservatory and put our feet up. Carrie joined us later, but didn’t stay long, because she said the smoke was a bit much for her. To tell the truth it was all a bit too much for me as well (according to the packet it was essence of “cudweed sagewort”) so I said I’d go and fetch some drinks, and slipped into the kitchen and out the side door to get some air.
I went back into the conservatory with Carrie. Gowing was now trying to light some kind of incense stick. I said probably best not to. Then he began his usual sniffing, so I thought I’d beat him to it and said “You’re not going to complain about the smell of paint again, are you?" He said “No, but I tell you what, there’s a funny smell of mortar”. I don’t often make jokes, but I replied “Ah Gowing: it doesn’t matter how good things are, you’ll always find something mortar complain about”. I couldn’t help roaring at this, and Carrie said she nearly split her sides. I think it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever said. I actually woke up twice in the night and laughed until the bed shook.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
No sign of any sprouting in the herb garden yet. I had an irritating day. I missed the 8:45 train to work because I was having words with the paper boy, who’d yet again ridden his BMX over the grass and thrown our copy of the Mail on the driveway. He said he’d tried to put it through the letter box, but the draft excluder was jammed shut, and the doorbell didn‘t seem to be working.I was half an hour late for work, which I’ve never been before. Recently, the office juniors have been turning up pretty much as they please, and unfortunately Barry Perkupp (our manager) chose this morning to pounce. Someone had got wind of it and passed the word around, so everyone was in bang on time. Except me. Daniel Buckling (Assistant Processing Manager) was a real trooper and covered for me. As I passed Michael Pitt’s desk, he said to Annette (from Resources) “You know, some of these senior guys think they can turn up any time they like!”. Obviously, this was meant for me. I didn’t rise to the bait (just gave him a look). Unfortunately the pair of them started laughing. Thinking about it afterwards, it might have been better if I’d pretended not to have heard anything at all. Cummings called in the evening and we played Connect 4.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
The man I’d found in the Yellow Pages - John Farmerson - came round to shift the urn. Seemed a very nice bloke. Said he didn’t usually do such small jobs himself, but for me he would. I thanked him and headed off to work. It’s shocking how late some of the office juniors are arriving. I told three of them that if Barry Perkupp (our Manager) found out, they’d get a warning from HR.Michael Pitt, a cheeky 17 year-old who’s only been with us for six weeks said “Calm down! Calm down!” in a silly Liverpudlian accent. I told him I’d had the pleasure of being with the company twenty years, to which he sarcastically replied “Yeah - looks like it!”. I gave him a cold look, and said “I expect you to show me more respect”. He replied “Expect what you like mate”. I didn’t bother arguing any further. You can‘t argue with people like that. Gowing called round in the evening, and complained about the smell of paint (again). Sometimes, he can be very tedious. He made a few off-colour comments about Christine Bleakley during The One Show. At one point, Carrie had to remind him that there was a lady present.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Terrible start to the day. A man from Virgin Media, who we decided not to sign up with, arrived to install some cable gubbins. When it became clear we were signed up to Sky, he started giving me an earful about the ‘ball ache’ this sort of thing caused and said they could do without customers like me. I just said, “So what are you making all this fuss about?”, and he shouted at the top of his voice so the whole street could hear “Forget it mate. You’re a waste of space”.I shut the door, and was pointing out to Carrie that this was all her fault, when there was a violent kicking at the door, enough to crack the PVC. It was the bloke from Virgin Media again, saying he’d tripped over the urn and sprained his ankle, and he’d be calling Claims Direct. Found an odd jobs man in the Yellow Pages and arranged for him to come round to move the urn. Didn’t think it worth bothering him about the wireless door bell - I’ll buy a new one from Argos.
Arrived home rather out of sorts. Had decided against painting the stair trim myself and asked in Frank Putley, a local decorator who’d put a flyer through the door. He couldn’t match the colour on the stairs because it was a cheap job lot from the (discontinued) Llewellyn Bowen Renaissance range. He suggested repainting the stairs entirely. It wouldn’t cost much more, and if he tried to match the colours, it could easily end up looking like a bodge job. We’d all feel a lot better having the work done properly. I agreed, but couldn’t help feeling he might be pulling a fast one. Planted some herbs and went to bed at nine.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Andrew Marr, pain au chocolat and the Mail on Sunday. Were joined for lunch by the Social Secretary of the squash club. Couldn’t get the porch door open because the Chubb keys had somehow been mislaid, so had to usher him round to the side entrance. He tripped over the urn and tore a hole in the knee of his trousers. Really annoying. Had a snooze after lunch. Washed the car then walked round the garden and discovered a beautiful spot for growing some herbs (I prefer the real thing to the dried stuff). Went to the squash club for the evening quiz and the Social Secretary asked me to be one of the team captains, which was a great compliment.Saturday, April 04, 2009
Being a Saturday, I’d hoped to have a lie in, but two of the managers were off sick yesterday so I had to set up my laptop in the kitchen and do some work in the morning. At around seven pm Brian (the delivery driver from Somerfield) rang the bell and said he was very sorry for his behaviour last night. He said he’d been working nights all week and it had pushed him over the edge. He said it had never happened before and hoped I’d accept a £10 money-off voucher by way of an apology. He seems a nice enough chap after all, so I told him we’d carry on using Somerfields’ delivery service, and we’d definitely be getting All Bran! I hadn’t noticed before, but the wood between the banisters and the tread of the stairs on the inside is actually unpainted, which is irritating, since I was under the impression we’d paid for a fully decorated house. Carrie said I could probably colour match it down at Homebase, and it wouldn’t take long to do. I’ll try to get it sorted next week.Friday, April 03, 2009
No All Bran for breakfast! The Somerfield delivery driver must have forgotten it. Rang Somerfield to complain and was left listening to “Lady in Red” several times over, before I eventually got to speak to the manager.Couldn’t find my umbrella, and got soaked on the way to work. I think Gowing maybe took it last night by mistake.
Were rudely interrupted during The One Show by a loud banging on the
front door. It was the delivery driver from Somerfields (the badge he was wearing said his name was Brian) who angrily blamed Carrie for the mix up with the All Bran. I wouldn’t swear to it, but I thought he might be drunk. He said he’d had enough of delivering to snooty estates. I managed to keep remarkably calm, and told him I thought it was possible to live in a nice area without being snooty. He said that was nice to hear, and had I ever come across anyone in the neighbourhood who wasn‘t snooty, because he certainly hadn’t. He pretty much threw the box of All Bran at me and slammed the porch door behind him, which nearly broke the seal, and I heard him fall over the urn, which made me glad I hadn’t removed it. After he’d gone, I thought of a really cutting comment I could have made. I’ll save it for another occasion.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Welcome packs arrived from both Sky Plus and Virgin Media - Carrie had signed up with the latter without telling me. Gowing called and fell over the urn on his way in. Must get that urn moved.Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Service providers still calling. A nice chap from Sky called. He was offering a very competitive deal on their ‘Sky Plus’ package, which sounded too good to miss. They’ll be round to install it next week. Carrie did our weekly shop at Somerfield and made use of the free home delivery service they offer when you spend £25 or more. In the evening, Cummings dropped in unexpectedly to show me the Nintendo DS he’d bought on e-bay, and told me to handle it carefully because the stylus could easily scratch the screen. He said he wouldn’t stay, because he said he didn’t like the smell of new paint, and fell over our ornamental urn on the way out. Must move the urn round to the back garden, or else I’ll earn the disapproval of visitors. I don’t often make jokes.
Our good friend Cummings
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Had various offers through the post from telephone, cable and internet providers. Am keen to find out more about Sky Plus, so returned the tear-off coupon asking for more information. That reminds me, it looks like there’s no key for the security locks on the living room windows, and the wireless door bell is on the blink. Must take it up with Portland Developments. Gowing dropped in but said he wouldn’t stay because he couldn’t stand the smell of new paint.
Our good friend Gowing
Introduction
The Laurels
This week, my lovely wife Carrie and I moved into our new home, The Laurels, 32 Elmside, Barleycorn Mead, Harrow on the Hill - one of only twenty-three ‘Gleneagles’ configurations on this very tasteful new 100-home Portland Properties (plc) development.
There is a block-paved drive with room for two cars, which leads up to our front porch, which has a Chubb we always keep locked.
James Cummings, David Gowing and our other good friends always use the side door, which saves the trouble of people traipsing dirt through our hallway carpets. We have a nice little back garden with a double-glazed conservatory and cedar wood decking which runs down to the railway. We were a bit concerned about the noise of the trains at first, but the estate agent said we wouldn’t notice them after a bit, and knocked £5,000 off the asking price. He was dead right, and apart from the concrete wall at the bottom of the garden cracking slightly, everything’s been fine.
After work in the City, I like to be at home. What’s the point in having a nice place if you’re never in it? “Home sweet home”, as the saying goes. I’m always in of an evening. Our old friend David Gowing often pops in unannounced, as does James Cummings, who lives over the road. Carrie and I like to have them round, but we’re quite happy to while away our evenings by ourselves watching TV.
Even in a new build, there’s always a bit of DIY needs doing - a picture hook here, some kitchen unit hinges to be tightened, or a bit of garden decking to be nailed down - most of which I can do while enjoying a mug of tea. Carrie is a whiz around the home, cooking up Nigel Slater recipes in the kitchen, trying her hand at some of the stuff you see on the home improvements shows and experimenting with her new digital camera (an Olympus, as recommended by the Which? Report) which we bought from John Lewis using our Partnership Card, which offers 0% for 6 months on all purchases.
We’re really chuffed that our son William is getting on so well at the Natwest in Oldham. It’s just a pity we don’t get to see more of him. Anyway, here goes with my diary.
©MMIX KONSIGNIA. All rights reserved.
Why shouldn’t
I publish
my diary?
I often see memoirs by people I’ve never even heard of and I don’t see why my diary should be any less interesting, just because I’m not a ‘celebrity’. I only wish I’d started it when I was younger.
Charles Pooter
The Laurels, 32 Elmside,
Barleycorn Mead, Harrow on the Hill.
charles@charlespooter.com
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