Tuesday night Mr. Astor and I left the revelry at The Palace early enough to make sure the next day would not be a problem and that we would have time to take a dip in the pool. Angels led us off to sleep soon enough, but at 12.30 AM wraps first at my window and then at the doors made me grab a chic wrap and investigate. It was none other than Neil, whom we had left at The Palace much earlier after inviting him over for a dip. "Pleeeeese, can we go for a midnight swim; it is my last night here." What could we say as we didn't really have to get undressed?

So another BBC water ballet was performed, and we will be told when to expect it on TV.

We really will all miss Neil; everyday he took up his watch at The Palace downing Beefeater and tonic in The Beefeater Guard's summer uniform: capri pants. Farewell for now; we'll await your return.