Diary of a Notting Hill Nobody

9 February 2002

Tamzin Lightwater's unique take on the week

Gary behaving oddly. Called a meeting on Khan and as we all filed in he was tiptoeing up and down with a little black device which kept beeping. DD marched in and said, ‘Ha! Still using the RSH50? You wanna try this little beauty, the PRO2000 GSM digital. Picks up all known covert transmitters. And vibrates silently, allowing you to keep it concealed, in a flak-jacket pocket for example.’

Endless talk of listening devices made for v boring meeting but at least DD left behind his copy of Surveillance Weekly. We’ve run out of loo roll again.

Wednesday
Oh dear. Full blown crisis! Just when things were going so well. We’ve had to suspend all policy ops and put every bit of manpower into fielding calls from panic-stricken MPs and senior party members. Can’t remember them being in this big a state since Dave said we were going to make them get the train to party conference.

Trouble is the Black & White Party, organised by lovely Ms Hindmarch (super bags!). The invite says ‘Not Black Tie But Suits No Tie.’

The women’s dress code is ‘Not Black And White Just Very Glamorous. You will be walking on grass so wedge heels best.’

Have lost track of number of ladies of certain age ringing to ask whether they can wear a pair of wedges they bought in 1953. Honestly, can’t they put a new pair on expenses?!

All the men want to know whether ‘Not Black Tie’ means white tie and tails, or subfusc, and several inquiring as to the wearing of medals. Lot of desperate calls from sales assistants in Savile Row where I’m afraid there have been ugly scenes. Mr Redwood rang to ask whether he could go as Don Johnson in Miami Vice again. Am now so glad could not afford ticket.

Thursday

Just road-tested our new policy of standing up to kids making trouble. Confronted a child kicking a car — and he kicked me! Some sort of small-print disclaimer might be in order.

Spent day working on dress code for our forthcoming Bradford away-day. After last night’s furore, we want to iron out crisis points over diamond-patterned tank-tops and shooting jackets early.

Meanwhile, the plot is thickening re Khan and I still have the maddening impression there’s something inside my head which might be interesting. Have booked to see hypnotist. He says if there’s something in there, he’ll get at it. V exciting!