Please Go Away Olga Franklin is an experienced journalist, but
she must forgive me expressing mild sur- prise at her riposte to Randolph Churchill's assault on the press treatment of Mr. Greville Wynne. 'If there had been any indication,' wrote Miss Franklin, 'that our presence was at any time unwelcome, we would, of course, have left immediately.' This hasn't been my experience and I have had more experience of this than most people. Sometimes, for example, When a political crisis coincides with a serious family illness, the pressing presence of reporters is almost unbearable. Sometimes, for example, when for their own good reason they want to photograph me watching a match, say at Twickenham, it becomes an exercise in escape. I find them tough and competent, but remark- ably unwilling to disappear. Nor is this only a problem for those who by accident or design are public figures. Everyone, sometimes to their delight, more often to their embarrassment or horror, can find themselves in the headlines. If it happens to you, and if you find yourself or your house surrounded, you now know what to do. 'Dear sir or madam,' you should say, 'your presence is unwelcome. Please go away.' And they will go away? The hell they will. They have a job to do.