INGRID SPEAKS TO THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE HOTEL! — 1967-1968: Diary of a Posh Schoolgirl

Jul 11

Jul 11 INGRID SPEAKS TO THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE HOTEL!

Knightsbridge Hotel, Beaufort Gardens, 1967 — Knightsbridge Hotel, Beaufort Gardens, 1967

T U E S D A Y, 1 1 J U L Y

Miss Lee rang me up to ask why I was away - they need masses of help in the Library. So I’d better go back on Thursday. Rather a nuisance.

I did three super flower arrangements - one red and white because of the Danish people coming tonight!

Then, about 4.30, it dawned on me I hadn’t phoned The Knightsbridge. Mummy kept on putting me off by telling me it’s unnecessary and a nuisance for the hotel. But in the end I decided Polnareff is more important than the hotel, and so I DID IT. And Golly, am I glad I did – it was fantastic!!! The man said “Knightsbridge Hotel.” I said, “Oh, I was wondering if you could help me. Has Michel Pol-nar-eff stayed with you recently?” Expecting him to say “Michel who?” I got the shock of my life when he replied, “no, he hasn’t been here for a month.” I was too staggered to think. “Well, er, could you tell me when he was last here,” I whispered - not believing for a moment he could. “Yes,” he said (by now I was shaking), “just hold on a minute.” So I did. Then “hello?” he said. “He was here from the 16th to the 20th, he left on the 21st.” Swooning, I said, “and d’you know when he’s next coming?” “No, he hasn’t made any reservations.” “Oh thank you,” I gasped, “thank you very much.”

I charged into the kitchen to tell Chump and Ma, then rang up Anya. She simply could not believe it. Nor could I.

“I mean, how many people in England know what hotel Michel Polnareff is staying at? ”

I should think we are the only ones, apart from Alan MacKenzie. Up until now Polnareff has been just a name - a legend. Now, he’s become real. We’ve never got this close before. I mean, we’re in command of the whole situation. We can just ring up the hotel whenever we want, and get the latest details. I don’t think they even know we're fans. What’s going to be even more fab is that this Saturday Anya and me are going to see the Knightsbridge Hotel and, with any luck, HIM!

We chatted for 40 minutes, letting our imaginations run wild, completely, deliriously wild.

At 7.30 the Danish family came. He’s an architect and they speak staggering English. He thinks the standard of design in Britain is high (funny ideas). Super supper - salmon with hollandaise sauce and rum pudding.

I’m not utterly convinced the aches are on account of the sore throat.