Dismal day. Nervous. Ally and I had boiled eggs and I left her at 8, waving my hand with fingers crossed. She grinned through the tiny window of the door.
[Large gynaecological/medical omission]
Jonathan Margolis phoned and asked me to research some royal lineage for the Daily Express magazine. [No, it was the Daily Mail]. He put the question: 'who would now occupy the throne if Michael English's succession bill had been passed into law in 1910? My answer: Elizabeth II. Victoria was the last monarch to give birth to a first-born girl, followed by a boy, and that was in 1840. Jonathan says he'll pay me £30 [or at least that's what I think he said because the line was bad]. Spoke to Mark Parry about my family tree destined for tomorrow's EP. He says it's too big. Bastard.
Home to Ally at 5:30. She is reclining upon a cushion. She is brave and beautiful. We had spaghetti and at 8 watched a concert of Sir William Walton's music, in his presence, to mark his 80th birthday. Can't say I've ever listened to his music before. Balthazar's Feast was noisy. Princess Alexandra was in the royal box with the old boy who seemed to be having trouble with his balance. We will just have to lay back and think of Sir William Walton or Edith Sitwell's 'Facade' when we go to bed. Cast out any thoughts of conceiving a child. God knows we can't afford one anyway. And where would we put a pram?
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