Monday
V nerve-wracking weekend. Thought I was going to get the sack for leaving the mike on during Dave’s meeting with Mr Obama. Wrote a long email of apology to Gary cc Nigel for accidentally forgetting to tell the ABC cameraman that it was pictures only, but Gary sent me a memo back, cc’d every-one, saying that my actions were ‘inspired and brilliant’ and ‘a shining example of the sort of initiative you should all be taking’. He keeps winking at me saying ‘accidentally eh?’ Decided to go along with it, although am nervous about why no one has worked out what a huge blooper I made. Now Gary says I’m in charge of Holiday Management. This means all sorts of trouble, including going down to Cornwall to arrange photo ops and do wardrobe duties and refuse surveillance in case the kids throw away ice-cream wrappers. What a nightmare!
Tuesday
Up all night ripping realistic-looking holes in Dave’s T-shirts so he looks ‘properly relaxed and completely unselfconscious’.
Am running out of photo ideas. He’s walked down a beach, sat on a rock, chatted with locals and worn three different pairs of Villebrequins. Phoned Gary and floated the idea that as Gordon had now gone to ground and we had clearly won the War of the Holiday Photo maybe Dave could kick back a bit and have some down time. He went ballistic. ‘The Project doesn’t do down time!’
Am to deliver another two days of Positive Images or I’m not to come home. It wouldn’t be so bad but I’m not getting any help from Sam. She just sits at the kitchen table all day churning out page after page of conference speech drafts, while yours truly is left to ring round paparazzi and tip them off about Ice Cream Moments.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in