So the weather is Australia sort-of hot. That means over 25 degrees.

It is lovely!

I met an ex-Wandsworth pheasant, Nicki, for lunch in the Surrey Hills, not far from the Old Rectory. At The Pheasant and Dog; a stylish pub. The area is outstandingly beautiful.

The first half of my time in Britain was in Wandsworth. Nicki moved, with her husband and babies, to a Queen Anne house in Godalming, many moons ago.

Nicki is a true friend. We can laugh or cry together. I once helped her with some interior design. We were at the Chelsea Design Centre choosing fabric, and one of the sales assistants at Colefax and Fowler asked if she was European royalty. She is very tall, gracious and regal, like Princess Diana.

We had a lovely lunch in the lovely sunshine. A happy moment in time.

But no one is happy all the time. That is a fact. Life is up and down for everyone.

However, I have known people who have suffered much more than others. Some fell at the hurdle and haven’t managed to get up. Others just keep on, trucking on, despite hardship. They keep on jumping back up and manage somehow to keep bouncing ahead. Like my joey, Jade, my pet kangaroo. But they carry scars.

I went down to the local Tesco tonight. It was 6pm. I asked the sales woman, “Is it almost time to knock off?” She was so desensitised that it took a moment for her to register that I was chatting to her. She said, “No, I’m here to the very end.” That meant 11pm. She said, “I have small children.” I said, “I hope you have a good night.” She would not, I fear! She was missing her family.

When I drove back to the Old Rectory, junior cricket practice was underway on the cricket ground adjacent to the house. I watered my glorious garden (the lupins and the roses are blooming), as it was thirsty.

 

Then I went and found a deck chair, and sat on the hill, and watched the fun at the cricket ground, listening to the girls and boys laughing as they practised. Volunteer coaches were putting them through their paces, getting them to stretch themselves, try harder. Free fun, with a purpose, in the sunshine.

From time to time, I have met offspring of wealthy parents who don’t seem to have a purpose.

Despite the press, money does not make you happy. Too little makes you desperate. Too much can ruin you if you lack purpose.

There is so much more to life than money, thank God.

Hugo had a friend at his prep school. His parents were billionaires. The mother died of a drug overdose in her house on Sloane Street, a stone’s throw from Cartier, Tiffanys and Harrods. We were flying back from Australia and Geoff opened the complimentary newspaper to read the news. That little boy had slept in our house many times, tucked up on a trundle bed in Hugo’s bedroom, at the top of the house. He had lost a mother to drugs. And she had all the money you could imagine.

Well on that cheery note, I am off to London for a job interview.

Dinner is at a legendary pheasant’s house.