Mother has a bee in her bonnet over the mysterious disappearance of Robert Denby, and she’s sending me to London in her private jet. Of course I’m going! You’re a braver person than I am if you want to stand between mother and her latest crusade.

I know nothing about England, apart from the fact that they eat tea for dinner and drink beans for breakfast. Someone (let’s be honest, it was the cat) said they speak English, but I don’t believe it. I’ve seen “The Vicar of Dibley.”

In other news, my book is still for sale. Let’s do swappsies––you buy it and I’ll send the servants out for a tranche of goose liver.