Sunday 11th November 2022

Engagements are waning as our Nation declines and as my powers wane.

The Annual General Meeting of the Metropolitan Gardens Association took place at the Conway Hall, which was like a school. Basement room, unashamed strip lighting. Even a smell. The Lecture was about pollination corridors. Was dreading a climate change harangue but it wasn’t too bad. Just about establishing gardens in urban environments in sufficient proximity so insects can travel from one to the other. This is already happening in the City of London and needs to be got going elsewhere.

In another room, champagne and eats: a man was a dead ringer for Jeremy Irons in some of the best tweeds I’ve ever seen. But actually was a Bulmer, preoccupied with cataloguing drinking fountains. The other Bulmer (the cider family) lives near Robert Nevil’s country farm. In fact Robert Nevil was received there at children’s parties 70 or 80 years ago. It’s a very nice mansion.

There weren’t as many hot gardening gays as usual.

Royston King said he said some Windsor Venison in the oven so no dinner after. We only managed a short spell in a ‘pub’ worrying about the Monarchy.

James Stourton’s launch of his book about How we Conserve Our Heritage was at St Cyprian’s Clarence Gate. Three members of the Royal Family: Sir Timothy Lawrence, whom we’ve had before at Chelsea, the Earl of St Andrews and a third, spotted by Royston: ‘That’s King Simeon’s son. He was at Cliveden last week.’ Although I was tasked with securing the introduction, it was Royston who managed it of course. I got: ‘Hello, I’m Kyril of Bulgaria’. Extraordinarily nippy waist. Royston said Sir Timothy was free flowing about the death of the Queen but people kept interrupting. They’d been at Balmoral for two weeks beforehand. Her passing was ‘not unexpected.’ Separately Sir Timothy said that he’d ‘put my wife’ on the night sleeper from Glasgow so she could attend a wedding in the South. I’m not quite sure how you put a Princess Royal on a night sleeper. But that’s what he said he’d done.

These Royalties couldn’t be more normal and charming. Loyd Grossman also –  dynamic and ambitious, no holds barred wanting to know who was there,  although 72. Another man – a ringer for Bill Nighy – had a theme going of his immensely valuable manuscripts. No idea who he was.

One felt bucked up for Our Nation. My goodness, money, power and success is good for people and keeps this country going and the heritage preserved. The dear darling Heseltines were present, as well as Simon Jenkins, dear precious Tim Knox, head of the Royal Collection, and Joe Palin, son of Michael, who’s done tremendous work of conservation at Barts.

Dinner afterwards had been planned but was axed by Royston. He said the canapés were our dinner and in any case I appeared hardly able to stand from the champagne.