Same partner for forty years, same house for twenty five years, same adorable household assistant for twenty years, same pictures on the wall, same clocks that synchronise on the hour same dogs snoring for all my life ….as well as sixteen and a half persons with all my inherited foibles, fury and fearless frenzy. And yet reputation thank God would have it otherwise….., thank heavens for thatMarcus Aurelius, whom one should read a little each day tells us “All things must bow to natures law” the trouble starts when people do not.
A friend of mine made a casual enquiry about moi to some sort of feckless ageing sloane the other day the reply was a dark meaningful look that she knew all about Vanessa… bugger off I say she knows nothing about me at all, mostly how many pairs of knickers I have washed in my life , or how many meals i have cooked , that my dad invented ground to air radio , that my mother lived in a permanent alcoholic blur, but actually was probably a wonderful friend but a totally shit mother ….that I went to school courtesy of the RAF benevolent fund, to which I was invited to speak as their most celebrated pupil ” I joke” but it was shut down days before said event. Oh and that my grandfather bred the most beautiful little horse of all time …in West Texas a long time a go. but….. Moi? nah… Mind you I read one my first novels the other day … it was about parliamentary life OMG it was so blooming accurate twenty five years later. One of he reviewers claimed the man was such a such self centred bastard that he didn’t deserve the nice ending he got….. “you know who” still has no clue about the characters and does not identify with them Its Called Division Belle and I regret writing the awful sex scene, same reviewer” :sex is not Hannam’s metier”. I rest my case depends, on what she means by the latter.Was then lady, was then .