Читать книгу The Desperate Diary of a Country Housewife - Daisy Waugh - Страница 20

Got a hot date with a new friend called Rachel White. She is the ex-sister-in-law of my London accountant and she and her new husband, who is also an accountant, have invited us over to dinner on the Saturday evening after the Saturday evening after next. Fin’s in New York at the moment, so I haven’t confirmed it with him, but if he’s not around I can just go by myself. I accepted for both of us in any case.

Our children go to the same school, though they’re in different years, and I suppose my accountant must have mentioned something to her because she came over while I was lingering at the school gate, friendless and hopeful as ever, and very kindly introduced herself.

She was wearing tweed trousers with sensible brown slip-on shoes underneath, and a burgundy fleece with some sort of financial institution’s logo sewn on above the left knocker. She has mousy grey hair, cut astonishingly badly, and a broad, ruddy, friendly, well-meaning face.

Christ. It’s hardly Johnny Depp, is it? But we’ve got to start somewhere.

Talking of Johnny Depp, Clare Gower (of the school gate: her son, Joshie, is in the same class as Ripley; plus she has another, called Tanya, in the year above Dora) says she thinks she saw him in Waitrose on Tuesday! She’s not sure it was him, though. In fact, on closer questioning it became pretty clear that she didn’t really know who Johnny Depp was, nor had the faintest idea what he looked like. Nor much idea of anything else, either, come to that. Nevertheless, she said, and I quote:

‘I wouldn’t say I was absolutely certain, of course—wait a minute, Joshie, Mummy’s talking. But, he certainly looked familiar, and if it wasn’t Mr Deppy then it was the other chappie. The fellow in Batman. I mean Spiderman. Oh shoot…What’s he called, Joshie, can you remember? That nice actor-man Mummy saw in Waitrose on Tuesday. Joshie’s like a little fact machine, aren’t you, Joshie? He’s Mummy’s little brainbox…Oh goodness, what’s the fellow called? Leonardo Something. Leonardo Thingamajig.’

Clare Gower has invited me to a coffee morning next week, and I am happy to say that I have accepted.

R’s lost his school jersey. Must do the nametags before anything else goes missing.