Dear resplendent Rosalind:
My blackberry, my blueberry, my strawberry tart – how are you?
SO looking forward to seeing you tomorrow (when you get this
letter, barring a cock-up from Royal Mail, the launch of Two Broken Hearts will be tomorrow). I imagine you are getting made-up
already! My panama suit is still at the
dry-cleaners, but am about to shuffle out and pick it up; I’ve also bought a
fine pair of Gentleman’s loafers for the occasion.
Fritz, bless his canine soul, will be coming along. He’ll be a good boy - has hardly barked since
the whole castration business, and of course, since Bruno’s death
(destruction). I was thinking of
dressing him (Fritz) up a little, but don’t wish to emasculate him further by
tying a bow around his collar, or something like that. Perhaps the sight of you, fair Rosalind,
might bring the Bull Mastiff out in him again.
I can imagine plenty a male that would go, ‘Woof!’ at your charms and
attention (myself included).
Lovely to see the sunshine again, isn’t it? Thank heavens! Would look pretty foolish in a panama suit
otherwise (its cream coloured, by the way).
Yesterday afternoon, I went and sat up on the Heath
(Hampstead), on a bench over-looking the city, and thought how much I love this
country! There is something utterly
unique about the English countryside, and you do notice a change when you cross
the Severn into Wales
(for the worse – I mean its no-mans land between the border and the West
Coast). And while Scotland (I grant you)
has its beautiful patches, those wretched midges spoil even these (and I am choosing
to ignore all those unsightly wind turbines – the reports of oil running out
are, as ever, nothing but scaremongering;
though do you know there is even oil in your toothpaste?).
But my mind keeps being drawn back to the book launch. What an occasion it promises to be! I have been practising my signature on the
back of any old junk mail that plops through the letter box and have arrived at
something (I hope you’ll agree when I sign your copy) rather flashy: the key to
a celebrity signature is to make it BIG and just about recognisable, and of
course, to be sure it can be done in an instant under the flash bulbs, against
the full force of a press scrum.
Tomorrow, Ros, I swear will prove (in the long run) worth more
than pieces of gold.
Longing to see you – counting down the seconds (literally,
it’s a good way to keep any pre-launch nerves at bay).
Yours eventfully,
… cock clock-watching.
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