Come the revolution…

Saturday, June 2, Ashby-de-la-Zouch

Glenn woke me early with the alarming news that Prince Charles had gone mad with a Kalashnikov and killed his entire family, "Cos of Camilla". I switched on Five Live and was reassured that the massacre had taken place in Kathmandu, and that (presumably) our own royals were safe and reasonably well.


Sunday, June 3

Pandora knocked on my door as I was washing up this morning. She placed a hand on my cheek and purred, "Can I count on your vote, as usual, sweetie?" I coldly informed her that I had become disillusioned due to her habit of breaking promises and that I intended to vote for the Socialist Alliance candidate, Abbo Palmer. She left her canvassers on the rain-lashed street and pushed her way into my kitchen, snarling, "What broken promises?"

I counted out the disappointments on my fingers. I was still wearing my yellow Marigolds at the time, so the effect may not have been as dramatic as I had intended. When I got to the last rubber digit I said, "Finally, Pandora, you promised to marry me as soon as we were 16 years of age and could afford the train fare to Gretna Green." I took out my wallet and produced the written evidence: a note she had scribbled in a double geography lesson more than 20 years ago. The sight of her childish, loopy, handwriting almost brought tears to my eyes.

Pandora scanned the note then turned it over. On the back was a graph showing the decline of Britain's manufacturing base under Thatcher. She murmured, "Interesting," then asked if she could have the note, as it meant so much to her. I replied, "Certainly not, I have kept this love note in my wallet, close to my heart for two decades. It reminds me of the time when we were 15 and rapturously in love." We were interrupted when a woman canvasser, in need of Immac for the upper lip and chin, knocked on the door and said, "The Newsnight camper van has just crashed into your car, Pandora. Jeremy Vine wants your insurance details."

Midnight

Pandora has just been interviewed on Newsnight, by an unusually deferential Jeremy Vine. The set consisted of the blown-up note. (On the graph side).

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