The Diary of a Nobody
Being the modern day record of Charles
Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original
Thursday, July 08, 2010
I’m overcome with emotion looking at my notes on the meeting I had this morning with Barry. He said to me, “Charles, my friend, I won’t dwell on the immense service you’ve done this business. I can’t thank you enough. Let’s change the subject. Tell me, do you like your house? Are you happy there?”I replied, “Barry, I love my house, I love the area, and I couldn’t bear to leave it”.
I was utterly shocked when Barry said, “Charles, the company will pay off the rest of your mortgage, as recognition for what you’ve done and as acknowledgement of your absolute integrity. You’re the most honest, straightforward guy it’s ever been my privilege to work with”.
He shook my hand, and said he hoped Carrie and I would be blessed with good health and many years’ enjoyment of the property. I was too overcome to thank him and, seeing my embarrassment, he said, “No worries. You don’t need to say anything at all” and left the office.
I texted and e-mailed Carrie, Gowing and Cummings (I’ve never done that before) and asked Gowing and Cummings to come round for a meal.
When I got back, there was Carrie all tearful. I went down to Oddbins and got a couple of bottles of Laurent Perrier Rosé champagne.
My two dear old friends came round, and before I shut down the computer, I caught sight of an e-mail from Lupin. I read it out loud.
Listen buddy, keep your hair on.
You’re way off beam, as usual. I’m engaged to be married to “Lilly Girl”. I didn’t mention it last Thursday, because it wasn’t finally sorted. We’re going to get married in August, and amongst our guests we really really hope to see your old mates Gowing and Cummings.
Much love to you all,
Good old Lupin
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
The excitement and anxiety of the past few days has all but made my hair turn grey. It’s all nearly settled. Tomorrow, the deal will be sealed. I sent a long e-mail to Lupin (I thought it was my duty to do it) advising him to take care over spending too much time with Daisy: they drove up to our place together again last night.Monday, July 05, 2010
Lupin’s flat looked very chic. The food was a bit over the top, especially as the whole thing kicked off with loads of Cristal champagne. Lupin might have told us that Daisy, Murray and Lillie were going to get dressed up all smart for the evening. Since it was only the six of us, we’d thought it’d be fairly casual. I wasn’t hungry. It must have been twenty past eight before we sat down to eat. I could have eaten a full meal at six, but I made do with a bit of bread and butter because I was ravenous, and I expect that partly spoiled my appetite.We were introduced to Murray’s sister. Lupin called her “Lilly” as if he’d known her for ever. She was very tall, plain (I thought) and had unnaturally plump lips. She looked about thirty. I didn’t like the way she kept giggling, and poking and pinching Lupin. When she laughed, it was a kind of high-pitched shriek which went right through my ears, and it was all the more irritating because most of the time no one had said anything funny. In fact, neither Carrie nor I thought much of her. They all lit up after the meal. Lilly offered Carrie one. I answered for her, saying “No, she doesn’t smoke. She’s got more sense”, which made Lilly give one of her piercing laughs again.
“Lilly Girl”
Daisy (“Daze”) sang along to some of the music they insisted on playing. Like I said before, she can’t sing in tune, but Lupin kept smiling at her, nodding, and looking into her eyes all the time. If I’d been Murray, I’d have had something to say about it.
Murray was very sociable and polite, and eventually ordered us a car on account to take us home. He’s clearly very rich, because Daisy was wearing some beautiful jewellery. She told Carrie that the necklace which Murray had given her for her birthday cost over seven grand.
Murray said he’d got great faith in Lupin’s abilities, and thought he’d got a great future.
I couldn’t help thinking about the £20,000 Murray had lost on the Langella shares, thanks to Lupin’s advice.
During the evening, I had a chance to chat to Lupin and said I hoped Murray wasn’t living beyond his means. Lupin looked pityingly at me and said Murray was worth millions. He’d sold a minority interest in LowPricePosh.com to some eBay subsidiary.
I said I was glad to hear it.
Lupin said, “He’s put a couple of million in trust for both Daisy and “Lilly Girl”. Any time I need any capital, he’d have no problem handing over a couple of hundred thousand, and he could buy your firm up tomorrow. For cash”.
On the way back, for the first time ever, I considered the fairly radical proposition that perhaps wealth is not evenly divided.
When we got back just after eleven, we found a silver Jag waiting outside the house. The driver got out and said he’d been trying to get hold of me all evening but my mobile was turned off. Apparently, he’d been there a couple of hours. He said he was under instructions to pick me up and take me to the May Fair Hotel to meet with Mr Frank Huttle “ASAP”.
I asked the driver if it was too late. He said no - he’d been told that if I was out, he should wait ’til I came home. I felt very tired, and really wanted to go to bed. I reached the hotel at about quarter to twelve. I apologised for being so late, but Frank said, “No worries. Come and have some vodka and caviar”. My heart’s beating a bit fast, even as I write this down. To be brief, Frank said he’d got a rich American friend who wanted to do something big in our line of business, and Jim (Franching) had mentioned my name to him. We discussed it. If it pans out, I’ll be able to more than compensate the company for the loss of Crowbillon’s account. Frank said, “The glorious fourth is a lucky day for America. Since it’s not yet struck midnight, let’s celebrate with a glass of the best wine in the house, and raise a toast for good luck in our negotiations”.
I sincerely hope it’ll mean good luck for us all.
I didn’t get back ‘til two. I was completely whacked, but I couldn’t sleep except for brief intervals, and then it was only to dream.
I kept dreaming of Barry and Frank. Frank was in a beautiful palace, wearing a crown. Barry was acting as waiter. Frank kept taking the crown off. He handed it to me, and kept calling me “President”. He didn’t appear to take any notice of Barry, and I kept asking him to give the crown to my boss. Frank said, “No, this is the White House, and you must take the crown, Mr President”.
We all laughed heartily, for a long time, ’til I got parched, and then I woke up. I dropped off, only to dream the same thing over and over again.
©MMIX KONSIGNIA. All rights reserved.
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
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