October 28, 2019 – In Which I Spy on Sir Derek Jacobi

The trip to Euston is uneventful. I have an hour to kill so I get a baguette at Euston and read. I realize I left my London A-Z at home, so I have to find Nuffield Foundation at 28 Bedford Square where the Fellows are meeting on my own. Instead, I take a taxi that drops me right at the front door.

I am not the first to arrive, but William Plowden is not here yet. He has arranged for the 1999 fellows to meet with past fellows to talk about the academic part our fellowship. Even though William’s organization does not administer the fellowship program anymore, he still wants to support us.

William arrives a few minutes later on his bike. He offers us wine in his upper crust British accent (or maybe it is just a London accent), different than the broad, rounded accent of the Midlands that I have grown used to.

I meet Elizabeth Mitchell; a fellow from last year. She is the daughter of Elizabeth “Libby” Mitchell, Maine’s Speaker of the House of Representatives; our first woman Speaker of the House. Elizabeth has taken up residence in London. Her husband works for a bank and she is taking classes at the London School of Economics. She bears a striking resemblance to her mother. It is a bit weird talking about my project and its applicability to Maine as her mother, as Speaker, adamantly opposed implementing performance budgeting for Maine’s state budget.

We plunge into a discussion about our projects and papers. The older fellows’ combined advice—”Don’t worry about the paper.” They advise us to write the paper for ourselves and go out and enjoy the experience. Most agree that it takes six months for the “jumble” to come together, which doesn’t help me at all.

We end at 7:45 PM and it takes almost an hour to get to Stacy and Matthew’s apartment, who have invited me to stay with them, in North London.

Stacy and Matthew live near Primrose Hill in the London borough of Camden. It looks to be quite exclusive. Their apartment is very nice, belonging to a professor on sabbatical. They tell me about their neighbors—Sir Derek Jacobi, Bob Hoskins, and a singer from the band Oasis. Derek Jacobi lives across the street. His lights are on and I peer somewhat voyeuristically into his window. Oddly I can see the tall, dark figure of a stuffed bear, standing on two legs, with what I imagine to be a snarling countenance, but I can’t quite see that. I suggest we invite ourselves for tea. Matthew says we could go trick-or-treating early.

I brought Italian and Belgian chocolates, which we eat while we talk. Stacy is struggling with her project. The nonprofit that is her host is not working out—she doesn’t even have a desk and chair. So, for the moment, she is working at home, which she says he likes—working in her pajamas in the morning—up to a point. The BC is trying to get her placed into the Social Exclusion Unit, a Cabinet Office.

Stacy tells a funny story about the plumbing. A repairman came the other day and she followed him to the basement to check it out. She found it to be a crazy set-up with an open cistern. The plumber assured her the drinking water did not come from the cistern!

I sleep on a pullout sofa, a bit fitfully.