Tuesday 4th February 2014
Friday set out from St Panc by public train with Genevieve Suzy for Hastings. On the Ashford leg, we sat with a student who’d come nine hours from Aberystwyth to see his girlfriend. ‘What a fabulous boyfriend you are!’ Genevieve shrieked. ‘How long have you been together?’ ‘When do you have to go back?’ ‘Couldn’t you stay over on Monday if you’ve got no classes?’ The boy, not the brightest, looked confused and pressed his earplugs more firmly in. Didn’t he realise what an op he was missing? Genevieve could have got him a film part, presenting work, a record deal… We did better on the Ashford to Hastings run with two schoolgirls, one of whom received free advice (worth perhaps £3000?) re: her dilemma of Armani wallet or belt for boyfriend’s Valentine gift. Genevieve (known to every magazine fashion desk) said, ‘Paul Smith belt. He’s bringing back those stripes’.
Gaining Hastings we hissed and spat with the taxi driver re: route and where to turn round. Genevieve’s wild rocky house, right on the cliff, was thrillingly lashed by wind and rain. Oh the sea! And the elements! The gale forced water through the window frame in the bathroom. Over the weekend, I bonded with the sea and gained new insights into the shapes of the sea. You shall see. Alfred Wallace. Turner. They came back into life.
You wait.
But first we had a Dainty Lady TV assignment at the Jedward Gallery. This Private View the Multis had refused to attend. The last time they were at the Jedward the Blond Multi slumped and all but wept: the struggle to get there from London; the run-outness of champagne once gained; then, last straw, not used for dinner by Bertha Manning-Webb (also of the magazine world) who brazenly advertised her booking for two (with husband). The Multis had mainly come to dine with her. It had been understood they were to dine.
Well, that’s it for now… just fizzying with new life, given by Hastings, after January. Hard to know where to begin…


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