Everything Else
Everything else that I’ve written…
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Armed with a yellow fever certificate reminiscent of dog vaccination card, under strict instructions not to play with any pets, and armed with a suitcase of books and several bikinis, I made my way to Nairobi.
Girl, it’s a privilege to live in an age where a woman can buy a house off her own salary, and not be left homeless when The Man With The Cash decides his trouser snake would rather dance to a new sheet of music.
I can confirm that at the age of sixty, Rupert Campbell- Black is still the handsomest man in England. And in Wales. And everywhere. Even if he is a bit of a prat.Nobody reads Jilly for its great literary credentials, but be assured, R C-B is now a Shakespeare lover. No more will Helen call him and Billy (oh sorry Jilly killed him) a philistine.
Tonight across the country hunting mothers will hold their children a little closer. In every pack someone will remember another rider lost to the chase. Those who are still hunting will take an extra swig of port before a big jump and reassure themselves today is not my day.
For lunch today I ate two potato waffles, broken apart with my fingers (my front teeth are sensitive to heat, the occasion did not warrant cutlery), and dipped into a squirt of Heinz barbecue sauce. My boyfriend had waffles too, as a main course after a starter of cheese on toast. His condiment of choice was Heinz tomato ketchup, and he ate his lengthways.