Justin here, and a slightly more off the cuff letter than usual perhaps, because here at the palace, we’re all preparing for Lent – you know, deciding exactly what we’re going to give up. Even the young man with the wire in his ear has entered into the spirit of things and removed all the cameras from the guest rooms. My lady wife has foresworn vodka and is making do with gin, whilst I have given my official driver a break and have taken the wheel myself. After a couple of near-misses on the ring road, I am quite getting the hang of driving this large Jaguar and I am heartened by the number of other road users who, upon recognising the official pennant, have made the sign of the cross. On the other hand (so to speak) I have been shocked at the number of digital amputees there are – able only to use one finger.
My other concern is the fate of the ex-Ukrainian president, as he seeks to distance himself from his fellow countrymen who do seem jolly annoyed with him. I don’t doubt that things like governmental corruption is rife in Ukraine. As the young man with the wire in his ear says, it goes with the territory, and let’s face it, some of these eastern bloc countries can be strangers to the truth. But let us remember that they have not had the time to develop the noble principles of State that we enjoy; the unimpeachable integrity of our politicians and free eye tests for OAPs to name but two.
I see also that Mr Cameron’s high speed train scheme is yet again in doubt, this time after senior members of his own party have suggested that the building of HS2 would seriously compromise areas recently devastated by flooding. Prayer is the answer here. Did not the Almighty part the Red Sea? But people will do what they will do, although I must confess that I’d much prefer the recommissioning of the many branch lines closed by that dreadful Beeching fellow. I mean, what could be more English than little trains pottering around this green and pleasant land, uniting Much Thrusting once again with Longbottom Edge?
Ah well, dreams of long ago, and I’m afraid I will have to break off here as I have just seen the young man with the wire in his ear pushing a rather swarthy unshaven chap in a stained and crumpled greatcoat into the cupboard under the stairs....