8th July 2011 Some very hurtful pieces about me in several newspapers today. Thank God that The Times understands the situation and knows that publishing anything about this little matter would just fan the tabloid flames. As for the Guardian banging on about it, it really is time there was some sort of regulation of the media in this country.
Reach office late as driver seems to be taking strange route. Will have him replaced with more competent person. People in lobby whispering in small groups: must check with secretary to see who's died. Travel alone in lift - good of staff to give me space at this difficult time.
Continue to use chief executive's office. I've been using it for a while now after James told me it was okay. Didn't like to correct him but it is nice and quiet.
Secretary brings cup of chamomile tea and says no important messages. Sigh! It's good to have an office where the fittings match my importance but I sometimes yearn for the hustle and bustle of the good old NOTW which I so successfully edited for several years. How I miss watching dear Andy running the paper, and all those nice policemen with their cheery "it's a fair price guv" Cockney banter.
Mandy, that's it - I've remembered secretary's name. I always tell dear Dave and Sam that it's people skills rather than technical that take you to the top. Well, Dave knows that better than me anyway. Charlie doesn't agree "we're not all the bloody horse whisperer" but at least he says "muck" now.
Television across office has pic of Andy Coulson. I wonder what he's been up to. Can't see remote so can't turn sound up. Never mind, I'll read about it in The Times tomorrow.
Tell Mandy to place call to Dave - it's Sam's Pilates morning and we do need to sort out dinner on Friday.
Later: just had a dreadful encounter with two Americans. Well, one was American but the other had a touch of the tar brush if you know what I mean. I was barely into Hairdressing Monthly when they stormed into my office and started demanding all sorts of strange things. How could I delete emails - Mandy does all that sort of thing for me. Tell them I shall complain to James and get very rude response about working for organ grinder not monkey. Am seeing Rupie on Saturday, now he seems to be spending more time in England; will pass on complaint before bridge session.
Idly wonder if Rupie is planning on becoming English. Two colonies and now the colonists. Titter quietly.
Lunch at the Ivy. Quieter than usual. Press regulars absent for some reason. Perhaps someone's moved Ascot and not told me. Must ask Charlie, he's in that business so should know what's going on.
Back to office via Harrods. Bought some darling hair ribbon (on exes of course, don't tell the taxman tee hee). Odd mobile call spoils mood though, someone named Colin, seems to think he knows me, blaming me for some kerfuffle at the NOTW and apparently he's been sacked. Well, if he's been naughty he has only himself to blame. No idea how he got my mobile number.
Mandy brings me ginseng tea before my afternoon meditation. Difficult to achieve oneness with those awful Americans outside the office screaming about "shoot the bitch". That's no way to treat an animal as Charlie has explained: humane killer and off to the glue factory. So satisfying to be part of Dave's Big Society. Feel idea for column coming on, then remember I'm not a newspaper person any more. Sigh, those were the days.
Later:
Curled up in bed with a large voddy: not my usual nightcap but it's been a very trying few hours. The world seems to have gone mad around me. Phoned SamCam before and she pretended to be the Filipino maid, so not funny. In the end I put the phone down. Some people just don't know when to stop. Then James phoned me to say I was no longer heading some inquiry I'd never even heard of and made a crack about "note I'm using the landline." I laughed, of course, but it seemed an odd thing to say.
Must stop now, Charlie's come up. He's just pulled back the covers and said he was checking for horses' heads. What is going on?
Guardian coverage of the sorry mess
News Of The Screws own site I refuse to visit but you might want to snigger at the "thank you and goodbye" message.
Rock Stars Gone Good: ever wondered what older rock stars get up to? From insurance sales to butter - and shame on them all.
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