Monday 19th December 2022
Joshua Baring was sensational at dinner. I managed to get hold of some shin of beef, ideal for cold weather but not likely to be popular with vegetarians, let alone vegans, or indeed Hindus. The 1st course was No First Course and the pudding was Nigella’s Cherry and Almond Crumble – whoops! Almonds – out, out,out. For Joshua Baring, nuts are horror. He must never have them.
Narrow escape there.
On arrival, Joshua Baring was in an important new coat by Comme des Garcons with a huge, fully boned, fluorescent orange skirt to ward off Wokery, while the upper part of the garment was a more conventional charcoal wool.
Curiously the coat had a Trans aspect. We plunged straight into money. Joshua said the idea that Rishi Sunak is rich quite ridic. I do agree. With £30m, you’d be lucky to get £750,000 a year net income. No hope of a collection or race horses, probably two homes at most (one of them might even be a flat) and barely any staff, certainly nothing like an entourage. You might very well have to self-cook and self-shop from time to time. There would be clothes, bags and entertaining to be kept up with. £50,000 a month might sound like a lot, but when one bag costs £10,000, knits start at £850… well, it would be very challenging.
The huge event was Joshua’s time in A&E with his cleaner. The Royal London Hospital. Joshua did all the voices as only he could do. Ambulances were called to Joshua’s radical home while he was out but the cleaner was in. She, an operatic Brazilian, was overcome, in and out of consciousness, when in quite wild and calling for her son to come from Brazil. There was no choice but removal by ambulance to Casuality. Joshua was somehow summoned to sit with her. She became confessional. While cleaning, she raved, often she became peckish. If her clients had been baking, she would root out the results and eat them. ‘I know, Purificacion,’ Joshua exclaimed. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed the disappearance with my madeleines and my mille-feuilles.’ Purificacion was thrilled at the truth before lapsing into delirium once again, and as suddenly recovering: ‘How should I know? I never… Now everybody will think… I drug addict…’ Gradually the truth emerged. While in operation in another house, of some friends of Joshua’s as it happens, she had been seized by hunger. Poking about amongst their possessions she had found a zipped-up bag. Unzipped, oh glory, it contained biscuits. She ate two of them. The drawback was that they were cannabis nibbles. The maximum dose was one eighth of a biscuit. Two was more than even the most advanced ‘user’ would attempt.
It went on and on – the waiting on A&E. There was a young woman nearby rabbiting into her phone to a friend about how she couldn’t breathe and Would you believe it, the doctor told her to go home. Not fucking likely. I mean, like seriously, I can’t breathe. Who do you think you are?’ She’d got Netflix and a multitude of snacks. She was dug in for the duration. Purificacion was surfacing in increasingly belligerent mood, threatening the Police. The damage to her reputation was insupportable. Drugs! Unthinkable! She’d never taken drugs. How could this have happened? In the end Joshua was provoked beyond endurance: ‘You stole the biscuits, Purificacion. What will the Police say about that?’ At last she was quietened and apparently in retreat from the door of death – so Joshua left her there.
!! Adrian, I mean this seriously. Your reports are better than anything on Sky News and ITV. I wish you a Happy Christmas and hope that you never have to go to Tesco at Dog’s Head Island to find speciality bleach again.
Thank you so much for your kind words