Good afternoon.
I fear I have to write cautiously and speak quietly: walls have ears and my words may be gathered up and used by a Foreign Power. In "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy", the John Le Carre masterpiece, the most unlikely suspect turned out to be the "sleeper", the "mole" - the senior figure in British Intelligence who was, in fact, a Russian spy. I say all of this, perhaps too openly, because I have not seen Katie since her undoubted triumph at the Man U-Chelsea game in Moscow. I fear she has done a Philby, Burgess or MacLean and started to bat for the other side.
Whilst we investigate this, I am delighted to say Romilly has stepped into the breach. There I go already - "stepped" - a reference to the sweeping lowlands of central Russia or a mode of movement? One cannot be too careful.
No amount of care or intelligence-gathering seems to be able to curb the exponential growth in murderous youth crime. Robert Knox could have made the transition from promising child actor to thespian greatness, like so many before him. But a "knife in the hand" put an end to that. We talk to his granny who utters the cliche "society is to blame". But Sir Ian Blair, of the Met, agrees, along with countless others. "Cliche" is a French word from the printing trade which means a set of letters or words in constant use - they make up a block and are used regularly, thus avoiding having to assemble the same, and predictable, thing - time and time again.
Is youth violence the same? Can no-one smash the "cliche" ? We listen to granny and ask Camila Batmanghelijdh what she thinks.
We've asked her to come early incase the fuel protest is continuing. Harris says it "ran of gas" quite early on: a wordsmith and a man of sound judgment is our Harris. The Welsh lorry drivers said they weren't coming to London for the demo' because they can't afford the fuel. I think it is because they couldn't find the way.
Joan Bakewell couldn't find the way to make the parking machines in Westminster work and ended up in all sorts of trouble. Phil went to meet her only to bump into another woman who, whilst not the Thinking Man's Crumpet, brought her own unique persona to the telling of this significant tale.
Another significant tale centres on when you believe the Doctors and when you don't. From being told their unborn child faced such an awful life, it might be best to terminate it - (it is what medics call abortion) - to a bouncing six month old is quite a fraught journey. Ronke guides you through it.
Leah is four and she guided the Fire Brigade to her neighbour's home in Essex when she heard the fire alarm sounding. They all say she is very clever and possessed of a great presence of mind. Ben also meets Leah and her folks, lucky man.
Less lucky is Robin who we wanted to put in a boat for his forecast but there's been a row - that is an "argument" rather than "the verb: to propel a boat through the water by pulling on oars". Anyway, he'll give you his forecast but has left his Sou'wester in the props cupboard.
Lucy has found some girls scouting. Roms and I both thought that girls who "scout" are called 'guides' or 'brownies', depending on their age. We are wrong and will be intrigued to discover why as we dib dib dib our way through this arm full of merit badges we call a running order.
See you at 6.
Alastair and Romilly
