DIARY OF A NOTTING HILL NOBODY
SATURDAY Phonecalls to Dorset police: 235. Nights without sleep: 3. Double espressos: 25. Where is Dave’s pass?!!?!? We applied two months ago for-heaven’s-to-Betsy-Duncan-Smith’ssake. Chief constable most unhelpful. ‘How do we know your so-called Mr Cameron’s not an al-Qa’eda sleeper cell, eh? Eh?’ Why would they do this? Am starting to feel nervous. I mean, how well do we really know Dave? Nigel says this is the caffeine talking. But, seriously, you can’t be too careful, can you?
SUNDAY It’s here! DD rang the chief constable and threatened to ‘give him an interview without biscuits’ (?). Now it’s just 3,000 other members of the party, including yours truly, who have to queue. Spent entire day at the refugee, sorry, ‘reception’ centre. Was horrific.
Police showing mercy to no one. Poor Mr Lansley slept in his car last night and woke up to find it clamped, with a little sticker saying, ‘Vote Labour’. This afternoon entire shadow Cabinet forced to join the unofficial ‘do you know who I am?’ queue. Cops are adamant they don’t know who any of us are. (I know this is lie because one of them whispered ‘look, there’s the Man from Atlantis’ when Mr Redwood walked past with the nice blonde lady who translates for him.) MONDAY V hungover. Finally got pass, but am now mortified about my goof yesterday over McCain Welcoming Party. How was I to know Senator Lindsey Graham wasn’t his wife? All that time organising a Spouses’ Programme. Dave, or Osama as we now amusingly call him, was v cross. Still, at least I’m not the only one gaffing. Gideon has made things v difficult by calling Gordon autistic. Nigel says it was good, as Blair Bible says we should ‘say what we mean’ (Gould, p. 272). But Jed insisting we go through everyone’s speeches, looking for ‘bad’ jokes. Cuts include references to ‘madness’, ‘loony Left’, and things being ‘crazy’, on grounds that they will upset the Insane Community. Delegates giving speeches no longer allowed to make their eyes swivel, even if they do anyway. This is v annoying (apologies to the Annoyed Community).
Big night tonight. Poppy and I have a bet on who can sink the most free champers by gatecrashing parties and lying that a senior member of the shad cab ‘will be along shortly’.
TUESDAY Double hungover. Only get to conference hall with minutes to spare for big debate — ‘alcohol does more harm than drugs’. Luckily, not many there and those who are are half asleep and sweating profusely. Motion rejected by huge margin. Another victory for common sense.
Tonight am off to secret Howard Flight dinner! Tickets currently changing hands at £500 a pop but Jed had one he couldn’t use. Am so excited. If he says the words ‘spending cuts’ will die with excitement.
WEDNESDAY Triple hungover. Free brandy and cigars last night at the antisocial behaviour fringe (‘Win an Asbo!’). Mr Hendry attacked by a drunken delegate screaming obscenities. Still, that’s neoliberalism for you. May not make it through Dave’s speech. Feel giddy. Need sit down.
THURSDAY Why am I still in Bournemouth? Where is everybody? Why is there an American man with a McCain sticker on his jacket in my hotel room? Gah.
tamzin.lightwater@spectator.co.uk
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