Good afternoon.
I quite often drop my younger boys off at a local municipal swimming pool at the weekend whilst I have a coffee, a ciggy and finish off the papers. I count them in and I count them out. They love it and it suits me. You will imagine the horror I, and all of us, felt when we heard about the seven year old girl who drowned at the weekend in a pool in Essex. The tragic episode is the subject of an investigation but, even ahead of that, we thought, with the summer holidays just around the corner, it might be worth taking a closer look at public pools and what they do to make them as safe as possible.
No sensitivity, in my view, from Littlewoods - a family business from Merseyside that made millions from the pools (footy that is, not swimming) and catalogue sales. We have the case of Helen Griffin, in her 60s, who had paid off her debt for stuff she'd got from the catalogue, only to get not one but two cheques from the scousers because she'd overpaid.
"You sure" her family are sure they asked. "Sure, we're sure" the family are sure Littlewoods said.
The next communication will make you incandescent with rage, we think. No chance of a score draw as things stand and Littlewoods say it is a home win, according to the panel. Phil has his pencil hovering over the coupon that is his script as I write.
Also hovering is Lenny Henry who opens in Richmond in just a few hours time. He popped in to see us and made us roar with laughter and think quite a lot. It is a good mix of emotional reactions to one of the biggest and nicest blokes in showbusiness. Hear him roar at 6.
Also roaring will be the crowds who will gather in the Mall in August to mark the handover of the Olympic flag from the Beijingers to us Londoners. A dry run in the Mall caught Lucy's lovely eye and she will guide you through it, including Boris' commitment not to make a twit of himself when it comes to the equivalent of the baton handover. I am not holding my breath.
Though I did when I was told I was going to a private viewing of a movie on Friday night and then interviewing the stars on Monday morning. Who might they be? A personal hero, like Dustin Hoffman? A Bond favourite like Brosnan or Connery, come to that? Or a couple of likely lads just starting out and looking to me for a leg up? If I tell you I swooned, was charmed, and became not a little excited you will be drifting in the right direction. A blonde and a brunette. A classic English rose and a thoroughly modern, sassy star. Both beauties and both charming. I hope you like meeting them as much as I did. If I tell you we talked about Dylan but not Subterranean Homesick Blues you might get a clue.
I am joined tonight, again, by Salma, who appears to be in training for something. Head down, talking to herself and writing... frantically - the outcome, clearly, will be something not to miss.
Alastair and Salma "sorry I am very busy" Siraj.
