Monday 12 June 2006
Margaret Thatcher spent the weekend with us, which culminated in her unveiling a statue of Rupert Brooke at our country home, the Old Vicarage. Brooke lived at the Old Vicarage between 1910 and 1912, and of course immortalized the house with a poem of the same name.
The
Cambridge Evening News covered the event and was kind enough to send me the photo on the right.
I wrote between 6.00 and 8.00 am this morning. I’m currently working on a new set of short stories - Cat O’Nine Tales - these are actually nine stories I picked up while I was in prison, and three that I’ve come across in the last three years. Those assiduous readers of
The Bookseller will know that I'm collaborating with Mr Ronald Searle on this occasion, who has drawn 36 magnificent illustrations for the book that will be coming out in time for Christmas - more details later.
I joined my trainer Dani in the gym at 8am for an hour’s training - it doesn’t get easier.
Had lunch with Alan Pascoe to discuss the latest on the London Olympics and in the evening went to Sotheby’s Impressionist Sale. The world has gone mad. £16 million for a Modigliani, and £2m for a poor Picasso - a few splodges on a large canvas. I put in two bids, one for a Sisley and one for a Pissarro, at prices that I thought were sensible, only to watch them go for double the estimate.
Tuesday
This morning I wrote again from 6-8.00 am, editing the short stories, and after a session in the gym attended the Almeida Theatre Patron’s lunch in the Almeida Restaurant in Islington. Michael Attenborough told us of his ambitious plans for next year but swore us all to secrecy - so I can’t tell you anything more, except that it all sounded very exciting.
Like most of you, I watched England play Sweden and was very sad to see Michael Owen leave the pitch after only a couple of minutes. I can only imagine what he’s going through when I consider what it would be like not to be able to write for six months. The game wasn’t altogether satisfactory, but at least we’re top of the table and will avoid Germany in the next round.
Wednesday
Wrote 6-8.00 am. Went off to spend the day at the Old Bailey to watch a murder trial in court number 4 - all part of the research for my next novel.
When I arrived back at my office, I was delighted to learn from my PA that in a charity auction held last week at Althorp, for the Raisa Gorbachev Foundation, an auction item of a name in my next book went for £16,000, but was somewhat flummoxed when told the winner’s name was Amirkhan Mori. I’m desperately searching for a character in one of the short stories to fit his name - all ideas welcome.
Mary and I went to the first night of
Evita at the Adelphi Theatre. I have an investment in the show so I’m biased, but I was among those who gave it a 10-minute standing ovation at the end.
Thursday
Wrote 6-8.00 am, before driving down to Heathrow. I flew to Rome to have dinner with two Salesian friars - further research for my book. Delighted
Evita had such good reviews.
Friday
Return from Rome, and Mary and I are going to an old friend’s summer party - themed 'An Indian Summer'. Mary and I go to Stratford-upon-Avon twice a year and try to see a play on the Friday night and two more on the Saturday. The only play on offer this evening was
Titus Andronicus in Japanese - and on balance, we considered Greg’s party more alluring.
Saturday and Sunday
Mary and I travelled up to Stratford in time to see a matinee performance of
Anthony and Cleopatra at the Swan. Harriet Walter was utterly convincing as a sexy predator, and I, like Patrick Stewart, would have done whatever she told me to do. Stewart gave another remarkable performance, and they were well supported by an outstanding cast, in particular James Hayes as Lepidus. In the evening we saw
Much Ado About Nothing, which was a fine performance, but Mary and I suffer from having seen this originally at the National Theatre with Maggie Smith as Beatrice and Robert Stevens as Benedick (who were lovers at the time) not to mention Frank Finlay playing a memorable Dogberry. Joseph Millson and Tamsin Greig gave superb performances, and both plays are well worth a visit.
We returned in time for lunch with my son James and his wife Tara, at one of our favourite restaurants, Lucios, in the Fulham Road, before watching England play Ecuador. Everybody will now know that we won 1-0, yet the press still remind us every time that we will have to improve our game if we hope to go any further. They’re probably right, but it will be interesting to see what they have to say if we win the final 1-0, because there are no prizes for guessing what they will write if we lose against Portugal next Saturday.
