The Diary of a Nobody

Being the modern day record of Charles Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Something very strange happened. Carrie and I went round to Gowing’s place (it’s in a block of new apartments) at half seven. We rang the buzzer a load of times, with no success. Then we knocked on the door, and a guy in a T-shirt opened it. He said, “Yeah? What is it?" I said “We’re trying to get hold of Mr Gowing in Apartment 4”. The man said, “He’s not here” (or at least, I think that’s what he said – I couldn’t really hear because there was some horrible dog yapping in the background). I said, “I’m sure he’ll be back soon”.

The guy slammed the door shut, and we were left outside, in the freezing cold. Carrie told me to knock again, and then I realised that the paint on the door was sticky and I’d got it all over my hands. So I hammered on it with my umbrella, and the man opened the door again. He said, “What the hell are you doing? Look – you’ve damaged the paint. Bloody idiot”.

I said, “Excuse me. There’s no call for that. We’re just trying to get up to Apartment 4 to see Mr Gowing who …”.

He interrupted and said “I don’t give a shit about Mr Gowing or his mates. This is a communal entrance. Who do you think I am? The concierge?”.

Still, this guy’s rudeness was nothing compared to Gowing’s. Then Cummings and his wife arrived. Cummings was walking with a stick and limping badly. He managed to get up the steps all the same, and asked what was going on.

The man said “I saw Mr Gowing this afternoon. He told me he was going down to Croydon and wasn’t going to be back ’til Monday. He was carrying a suitcase”.

Once again, he slammed the door. I was very, very angry with Gowing. Cummings was incandescent, whacked his stick on the ground, and shouted “Bastard!”.

Friday, January 22, 2010

We’d just finished supper when all of a sudden Cummings turned up. He’d not been around for about three weeks. He wasn’t looking too well. I said, “How are you doing? You don’t look so good”. He said, “No, I’m not”. I said, “What’s the problem?" He said, “Oh nothing. Nothing to worry about. I’ve just been flat on my back for three weeks in bed. The doctor wanted to put me in hospital. Of course, no one’s bothered to get in touch. I might as well have been dead, for all anybody cared”.

I said, “But I didn’t know. Any time I passed your house, all the lights were on. Most of the time it looked like you had people round”.

Cummngs said, “The only people I’ve had round are the doctor, the physiotherapist and the chiropracter. He was absolutely brilliant by the way. I’m surprised you didn’t read about what happened in the paper”.

To cheer him up I said “Well, it looks like you’re making a good recovery”.

He said, “That’s not the issue, is it. The real issue is when you’re seriously ill, that’s when you find out who your true friends are”.

I said I thought that was pretty uncalled for. Then, to exacerbate the situation, Gowing comes in, slaps Cummings on the back and said, “Bloody hell! Have you seen a ghost? You look like Amy Winehouse”. I said, “Take it easy, Gowing. Apparently he’s been very ill”. Gowing laughed “Yeah, you look awful”. Cummings said, “I feel awful as well. Not that you care”.

There was an awkward silence. Gowing said, “No worries – come across to my place tomorrow with the wife. We’ll crack open a few bottles of vino. That’ll make you feel better”.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

The oak dining table arrived from John Lewis. Carrie put some tea lights in coloured glass holders down the length of it. It looks great, and makes the room a lot more welcoming.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

I asked Lupin to pop into Boots to change some hard Kent Hairbrushes he’d recently got me as a present for some softer ones. The barber tells me it might be wise with my hair being the way it is.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Over the years, I’ve rarely lost my temper with the cleaners we’ve had, but I had to speak to Anya about a careless habit she has of shaking the tablecloth after breakfast and covering the carpet in crumbs which then get trodden in. Anya answered rudely “Always, you are complaining”. I replied “Actually, I’m not. I spoke to you last week about walking all round the living room with some soap stuck on your shoe”. She said “You moan always about the washing”. I said “I don’t. But when things get lost, or shrunk, or come out the wrong colour, I think it’s perfectly justifiable for me to complain”. She began to cry and make a scene, but luckily I had to head out for work, so I had an excuse for leaving her to it. Gowing left a message saying not to forget next Saturday. Carrie said, quite wittily, “As he’s never asked anyone across before, we’re hardly going to forget, are we”.

Monday, January 18, 2010

I’m worried. Lupin’s now driving a Mazda RX8. I said “Lupin, this must be costing you a fortune”. He said, “Well, I’ve got to get into the city somehow. Anyway, it’s hire-purchase. I can get shot of it any time I like”. But I wouldn’t let it go. I said, “Yes, but what about the running costs? And the insurance, for God’s sake!”. He said, “Look mate, you don’t get it, do you?. In this business, you can’t drive around in a heap of junk like your Focus. My boss tells me if I stick at it, I’ll be earning serious dough soon. And I mean serious”. I told him I thought gambling on the stock market was immoral. He said, “It’s not gambling. It’s about information”. I told him that whatever take he had on it, he should still get rid of the car. He said, “Look, I made £7K in one day. OK, suppose I made £7K a month, or, in the worst case scenario, £3.5K. £400 a month for a car against that – it’s a pissy amount of money”.

I didn’t discuss it any further – just told him to be very very careful not to get into debt. “No worries” he said. “I only use other people’s money, and I only go on insider info”. I felt slightly relieved. Gowing popped in later, and I was surprised to hear he’d made £700 thanks to something Lupin had told him. He asked if we wanted to come round on Saturday, with the Cummings. We said we’d love to.

Friday, January 08, 2010

My god! Barry told me I’d be getting a £3.5K rise. £3.5K! I was reckoning on maybe two thousand tops (given that there’s been a pay freeze for the last two years), but £3.5K! Carrie and I were dancing round the room. Lupin came home in good spirits. I popped down to Oddbins and got a bottle of champagne, which we opened at supper. “Lupin, I’ve got this in so we can raise a toast to some good news I’ve had”. Lupin said “Wicked. Buy One Get One Free! I’ve got good news as well, so a double whammy eh?” I said, “Lupin, I’ve carefully toed the party line and put 21 years dedicated service into my company. As a result, I’ve just been given promotion and a salary increase of £3,500”.

Lupin gave three cheers, hammered on the table, downed his champagne, shouted “fill ’er up” and stood up. He said “I’ve put a few months less-than-dedicated service in at Cleanands International Investment Brokers, but I covered my line manager’s back the other week (because he was having an affair with the receptionist) and he gave me some insider information. Today, I made £7K”. I said, “You’re joking”. He said “No mate, it’s true. It was spread-betting on some construction shares which bombed”.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Barry called me in and said I was going to be promoted to Senior Administration Manager. I was over the moon. He said he’d have confirmation on the salary tomorrow. Another day’s uncertainty. At least it’s the right kind of uncertainty. I remembered I’d not spoken to Lupin about Daisy’s father’s e-mail, so I mentioned it in the evening after getting the go ahead from Carrie. Lupin was deeply immersed in the FT like he was some kind of city boy. I said, “I was wondering why you’d not been round to the Mutlars’ this week”.

Lupin said, “I thought I’d told you. I can’t stand Daisy’s old fart of a father”. I said, “Well Daisy’s father wrote to me to say he doesn’t think that highly of you”.

Lupin said, “Cheeky bastard. Writing to you! If his dad’s still alive, I’ll write to him and complain that his son’s an arsehole”.

I said, “Lupin, not in front of your mother”.

Lupin said, “Sorry. But that’s what he is. There’s no way I’m going round there again”.

I said, “Lupin, he’s barred you from the house”.

Lupin said, “Yeah, whatever. It amounts to the same thing. Daisy’s still cool though”.

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

I was really on edge when I went to the office. Then I found out from Barry’s PA that he was going to be working remotely all day. In the evening, Lupin had his head buried in the paper. Suddenly he looked up and said, “Mate, what do you know about heat-pumps?" I said, “Nothing”. Lupin said, “Well, I’ll give you a tip. It’s the next big thing in renewables, and safe as pharma stock. I’d buy ’em”. I said something very very clever. “Pharma stock – I thought that was bullocks”. Carrie and I fell about laughing. Lupin didn’t take any notice, even though I repeated it. I carried on, “Hey, I’ll give you a tip: if you’re a waiter!”. Finally, I said “The other thing about tips – they’re usually full of rubbish!” Lupin looked at me witheringly and said “You should be introducing Countdown”.

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

I was on tenterhooks all day. I didn’t want to interrupt Barry, but he didn’t ask me in, so eventually I went and knocked on his door. He said “Charles! What’s up?" I said, “Barry, I thought you and I were, you know, well, possibly going to have a brief chat about things today?" He said, “Oh, yeah. I remember. Look, things have gone a bit mental. Can we do it tomorrow?"

Monday, January 04, 2010

I was going to pack this in last week, but something significant happened today, so I’ll carry on a bit longer. It was just after half one, and I was about to take my lunch break, when I got an e-mail from Barry Perkupp saying he wanted to see me immediately. I felt a bit uneasy.

Barry was on the phone in his office, and motioned me to take a seat, but I indicated I’d stand. His conversation went on for a good twenty minutes. It seemed like hours. Eventually, Barry rang off and stood up.

I said, “I hope there isn’t a problem, Barry?"

He replied, “No, no, quite the reverse. Well, I don’t think there is”. That was a relief.

Barry said “John Buckling’s about to retire, so we’re going to need to re-organise. You’ve been with us for – what is it? Twenty one years? Retention levels are something we’re very proud of here. We’ve considered your input and experience, and we’d like to offer you promotion. We’ve not hammered out the exact details, but it’ll mean a significant rise in salary. I’ve got a meeting at two: let’s talk tomorrow”.

He picked up his Blackberry and walked out. I didn’t even have time to thank him. Carrie was delighted. She said, “Oh, fantastic. We’ll be able to get that oak dining table” and I said, “Yes, and you’ll get that lovely Laura Ashley outfit, if it’s still in the sale”.

Why shouldn’t
I publish
my diary?

I often see memoirs by people I’ve never even heard of and I don’t see why my diary should be any less interesting, just because I’m not a ‘celebrity’. I only wish I’d started it when I was younger.

Charles Pooter
The Laurels, 32 Elmside,
Barleycorn Mead, Harrow on the Hill.
charles@charlespooter.com