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foreign & therefore pleasingly educational Swedish Christmas bread for the cake stall which Ana Frid is going to show me how to make.

      

      From: Nell Fenton

      To: Charlotte Bailey

      

      You are so bonkers, you’re the only person on earth who’d go to that ridiculous amount of trouble for a school bazaar, and it’s only so everyone will say oh-my-goodness-isn’t-she-creative-and-original but secretly they will hate you.

      

      From: Charlotte Bailey

      To: Nell Fenton

      Re: Hugh’s naughtiest day

      

      Bloody hell, Hugh a total nightmare at the moment. No doubt entirely my own fault as I am far too indulgent & practically always laugh at what he has done. Today he surpassed himself. Morning started fine, with a bit of quiet painting until he decided to go ‘off-piste’ as it were while I was upstairs putting away laundry. Ignored large quantity of sugar paper laid out in front of him & instead lavishly painted the kitchen walls. Paint claims to be washable, true you can wash it but it doesn’t bloody well come off. That accomplished, he moved upstairs to busy himself in the living room by stripping the decorations off all the branches he could reach on our Christmas tree. All the while taking experimental bites with his small sharp teeth out of the fake gingerbread men decorations I made last year & mauling apples & satsumas I’d hung up on ribbons. He wisely decided against eating the gingerbread men as they are made from salt dough coloured with coffee (for authentic gingerbread appearance), instead spat bits out all over the living-room floor. His next move – possibly a crude attempt to cleanse palate of vile salt dough/coffee taste? – was to eat most of the chocolates out of Ellie’s Advent calendar. Finally (and v dramatically) got so cross about being stopped from eating chocolates he threw Ellie’s favourite snow globe so hard he broke it. That done, he rested. What to do?

      

      From: Nell Fenton

      To: Charlotte Bailey

      

      He can’t help himself, it’s the testosterone. V much hope that if I get pregnant again will be a girl as I richly deserve a rest from boys.

      

      From: Charlotte Bailey

      To: Nell Fenton

      Re: a star is born

      

      Have just returned in triumph from Maddie’s nursery play. She was a star (in the literal sense – silver card head band with silver card star on front) & while she had no words to say & didn’t appear to join in on any of the songs, morning a glorious success as she managed not to cry FOR ENTIRE DURATION OF PLAY. I, however, compensated by becoming v tearful at moving spectacle of world’s weepiest child not actually crying.

      

      From: Nell Fenton

      To: Charlotte Bailey

      

      We had a school concert at which there were no references to anything as controversial as the baby Jesus. What it lacked in religious content it made up for in length. Love school concerts. Hours of sitting on your bum listening to indifferent music badly performed. Josie’s year only did 3 songs and Rob’s only two and while onstage he only stopped fiddling with his willy in order to pick his nose. The bloody teachers have a choir and did 4 songs. Why do they imagine we want to hear them sing???

      

      From: Charlotte Bailey

      To: Nell Fenton

      Re: Strengthening bread

      

      Perhaps they have lovely voices which you would appreciate if you weren’t so filled with bile. I on the other hand have spent a tranquil and fragrant afternoon making quantities of Swedish Christmas bread with Ana Frid & the children for Christmas bazaar tomorrow. While they look absolutely beautiful & delicious (lots of swirly shapes in saffron yellow with shiny egg glaze & raisins) they have the flavour of antiseptic bandages & the consistency & density of cement blocks. Ana Frid all upset & says we can’t possibly sell them as they are disgusting. Pointed out to her that we have promised them & don’t have time to remake them & also if we position them at back of table, buying public will have to point at them rather than pick them up so will be unaware of their fortifying density until after they have paid for them & by then it will be TOO LATE.

      

      From: Nell Fenton

      To: Charlotte Bailey

      

      Food sold at bazaars is supposed to be disgusting, people expect it. Anyhow you could stick a little disclaimer on the bottom of each loaf saying ‘Not fit for human consumption – may be used for dressing wounds.’

      

      From: Charlotte Bailey

      To: Nell Fenton

      Re: Christmas Bazaar (I was not marvellous)

      

      Christmas bazaar a mixed success. Disgusting Swedish bread sold out immediately (crafty placing at back of table ruse 100% successful) though had to avert my eyes whenever I saw anybody gamely trying to eat it (hotly denied any involvement but said marvellous Ana Frid & children entirely responsible). Unfortunately my v tasteful antiqued leaf decorations completely ignored by vulgar masses, so had to buy them all myself. Quite annoying as humiliating & expensive (particularly so as by the end had stopped Albert doing stuff to the house & redirected his energies to the more pressing matter of Xmas garlands), also my hands still covered in tiny cuts. Humiliation turned out to be something of a theme for whole bazaar as had made large colourful poster to advertise fun activity of miniature stocking & tree decorating with words 30p each or 3 for £1. Nobody had actually noticed this v easy to make mistake until Dan turned up he then went round laughing rudely, telling everybody and then actually BROUGHT THE HEADMISTRESS OVER TO SEE THE POSTER. Bastard. (Won’t be seeing me naked for quite some time.)

      

      From: Nell Fenton

      To: Charlotte Bailey

      

      Well, I volunteered to help at the Christmas party at our church. Turned out to be a sort of (slightly) festive boot camp run by a group of unmarried women, stalwarts of the church, who clearly dislike children. Each child was issued eight tickets, one for each of the stalls. I was on the lollipop tree (a very exciting game of chance in which you stand to win a plastic toy worth almost $1, and at worst you get a lollipop). They had to play the games in a certain order and were only allowed one turn each. This was ferociously enforced. As each game took about two minutes that accounted for about 16 minutes and then there was a lot of wandering around boredly while they waited for our parish priest (who has very ill-fitting false teeth) to come and delight us with Christmas carols badly played on the guitar.

      

      From: Charlotte Bailey

      To: Nell Fenton

      

      Hugh Sr, Penelope & Toby came for a pre-Christmas lunch today. For some mad reason (and Dan didn’t stop me) decided it was a good idea to have a big dinner party night before (last night). Dinner party inevitably became quite drunken (Fran & Joe involved). Fran even fell over in the road on the way to their car which was v funny, then Joe announced he was also v drunk so they had to walk home with her falling over every 20 steps, cabs impossible to get at this time of year. Dan & I both had fucking awful hangovers this morning – as children in a state of huge excitement in anticipation of visit from gift-bearing grandparents & exciting Uncle Toby, they all woke up extra, extra early. Hangover so bad actually still felt a bit drunk this morning and v dizzy whenever I had to bend over which unfortunately was all the time as we barely cleared up last night & had to load dishwasher, mop floor, etc, before embarking on lunch preparations. Toby on usual

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