Early start with breakfast at the Ritz. Judy Piatkus, my
publisher, picked us up in the lobby. She's delightful, enthusiastic
and smart. What else could you ask for.
Lovely breakfast, peopled with publishing staff and booksellers. Lots
of nice conversation, and a chance for them to get to know me a bit.
I tell one of the tables, as I'd forgotten to mention here, that I
must fit some sort of security profile, as I am ALWAYS scanned at the
airport. And this time, I was asked if I was wearing an underwire
bra. This is not a question I'm used to being asked, but I answered
in the affirmative. Was then asked if the security girl could feel
the underwire. Sheesh. Go ahead, feel away.
Apparently I passed.
From there is was back to the hotel for an interview, then
photographs for The Sunday Times. Nice interview in the Palm Court,
then upstairs to the suite where the photog had set up for pictures.
They do these standing against a white backdrop as they cut out the
person and put them on something. I have no idea, but we took four
rolls of film, and some fairly silly poses as they wanted my hands up
by my face or up and moving about, for drama.
From there we have a short walk over to BBC for radio. It was in one
of their self-serve studios. Where they call you from wherever, you
wear a set of headphones. Sort of a remote phoner. Back to the hotel,
through driving rain, for a quick lunch in the bar with my pr girl
here, Vivian. Vivian is five months pregnant, and we have much
to talk about with my impending nana-hood. She, like Stacie, is
barely showing, but tells me they don't weigh expectant mothers over
here. They think it's old fashioned! Cool.
Vivian's names are Arthur or Annabel. They will call the boy Archie.
I say, that's so British, and she's surprised. No, I tell her, we
don't have lots of Archies in The States. He would probably be Art or
Arthur. She asks me about baby showers, which are not really done
over here. I said they should be. LOL. And advised her to find a pal
to give her one so she'd get lots of stuff.
Upstairs again for two back-to-back interviews.
Meanwhile, BW has gone out into the rain to find some photographic
gallery. He comes back soaked through and annoyed as they were
between exhibits, and he got lost before breaking down and getting a
cab. He retreated to the health club for a steam and spa to warm up.
Chilly, gray and pouring here today. I'm glad most of my interviews
have been at the hotel.
Back across the street for one more radio. Radio Scotland, which was
cool. Just fun listening to the guy's accent as he asked me the usual
questions.
A few minutes here, and I'm off to my booksigning, then we come back,
quickly change for dinner at Claridges.
Must be up early tomorrow for TV.
Working hard, but I think sleeping and lazing around all day
yesterday paid off. A bit tired, but not exhausted.
Am told Irish media has expressed tremendous interest, and would I
consider starting my work day in Dublin at 7:30 a.m. I said I would,
as the next day begins my holiday.
Having fun at this, but very much miss not doing any shopping. I'm
minutes from Bond Street and have NO time. It's a sin.
Nora