Greetings and salutations my ravishing readers!

I am honoured and thrilled to be the travel correspondent for the global phenomenon that is emmaheaven.com. My name is Lady Perdita Fitzwilliam Tudor-Croft, Perdy to friends, Ditsy D to family and Dirty Dita to my unsavoury exes, but you can all call me Lady P.

My darling ravishing readers, one has been shacked up - again - dans le chateau in Champagne, France, with cousin Pierre after yet another one of his legendary soirees. Judge away, but there is sooooo much lost time to make up for these last couple of years!

You could say that I’m a ‘tad under the weather’, but there's always been total honesty between us my darling loyal readers, and so I must confess that one is actually suffering from THE mother of all hangovers, and it’s a MOST unpretty sight!!

There’s been FAR too much burning of the candle at BOTH ends, so to say that one is completely burnt out would be putting it mildly. My under eye bags are baggier and saggier than that of a Shar-Pei pooch - ‘hangdog’ has taken on a whole new definition as you would see if I were to terrorise you with a selfie!

But fear not dahhhhhlings, I shall spare you (and me) that particular indignity although it won’t take a huge stretch of the imagination to conjure up a picture of just how bloody awful one is looking! Throw in the deathly pallor, bloodshot eyes, the lack of a half decent blow dry and one looks positively ghastly! Silly Pierre was foolish enough to wonder out loud if “Hallowe’en had started six months early this year”. With ‘quips’ like that, he’ll be lucky if he makes it to summer in Saint Tropez, never mind autumn!!

Alas, one's loyal maid Maria is back at home with Mummy and this episode is proving rather difficult to navigate without either of Maria’s or Mummy’s TLC. One is feeling a little bereft and Pierre is of absolutely no use nor ornament in this situation, as he fared even worse than I did, which is understandable given the man has no concept of what moderation is and when it’s time to actually stop.

He clearly doesn’t possess a ‘pause button’, and appears to view ‘cork popping’ as some kind of competitive sport; one of these days, I swear he’s going to do himself a serious injury if he persists with certain ‘cork popping’ techniques. Although in his defence, he has ditched the Vaseline for one particular party trick, but now has his eyes set on cook’s tub of goose fat. So to speak…

Anyway, I digress…

So one is stuck here for the foreseeable, feeling wretched and very sorry for myself, looking life death warmed up, with nary a soul to look after me, however, one does have an iPad and lots of time to kill so perhaps a little surf of the net is just what the doctor ordered to take my mind off how much my head hurts…

One will be back in a jiffy my darlings, after a little retail therapy, which always has that desired effect of putting a great big smile on one’s face, not to mention the excitement that starts to build in anticipation of receiving those deliciously gift-wrapped parcels…and one must heartily thank FedEx, as their choice of driver has been spot on of late…what warm-blooded female doesn’t appreciate an absolute Adonis dropping off some designer goodies on their doorstep! Ta ta for now…I shall be back ASAP…

Well hello again my darlings - I’m back from my ‘therapy session’ and find myself in something of a tizz…

As one was navigating the iPad, one accidently stumbled upon the photo app and was confronted with the evidence of the most recent chateau shenanigans. Sacre bleu and mon Dieu!! Let’s just say, it’s not very pretty or ladylike, so one has spent the last few hours on the phone trying to reach Daddy’s lawyers.

Too bad that most of them are busy following the high profile Depp v Heard and ‘WAGatha’ trials, so it’s making it a little tricky making sure that all of one’s ducks are lined up in a row, just in case there are any cyber comebacks...

As a contingency, one booked a Facetime tutorial with Maria as to how I could permanently delete things from the cloud. if you know what I mean…and all the while I could hear Daddy chuntering away in the background - “it was about bloody time that Dita got HER head out of the bloody clouds, then maybe he wouldn't get such a bloody headache from all the bloody foolish antics, not to mention the relentless legal bills from retaining so many bloody lawyers on the payroll, ALL THE BLOODY TIME. Bloody women, can’t hold their drink, fit for nothing and can’t bloody behave!” So standard Daddy bluster then. Situation normal…

Goodness knows how he would have reacted if he’d bothered to tune in to Maria’s end of the conversation, above the noise of his own raging monologue…

Maria confided that she had been able to spare my blushes further and saved me from even more fatherly outrage. She explained in hushed tones how she had borrowed Mummy’s iPad that morning - the iPad was an old one of mine which I’d ‘recycled’ and gifted her so that Mummy could take online tours of great stately homes during lockdown, from the comfort of her chaise longue in the orangery.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. So apparently whilst Maria was browsing for fetish wear (don’t ask; say nothing!) she was interrupted by a stream of notifications. Initially she ignored them, but when they reached treble figures, curiosity got the better of her, not least as she was worried she might have been hacked. Poor Maria has just about recovered from an accidental foray into the dark web, and the resulting police caution…

Well darlings, all I can say is thank goodness it was Maria and not Mummy who had the iPad that morning. It turns out that I’d not done a ‘factory reset’, and I’d only gone and left it in ‘synchronise mode’. Aaaaggghhh!!!

Maria was besieged by a flood of graphic vivid images of limbs and body parts she said she’d not even encoutered during her stint at the Sexual Health clinic in Soho. Oh dear - poor Maria - but at least her constitution is stronger than Mummy’s, whose blood pressure is already dangerously high just dealing with Daddy and his ‘outbursts’!

Anyway, I digress…

Seeing those photos - and knowing my beloved Maria had also seen them - was an enormous shock to the system. I am absolutely mortified at my behaviour, which quite frankly is completely unbecoming of a lady. And a farmyard animal…I mean some of the poses and positions completely boggle the mind. I didn’t know the human body could do those things! And yet the pics were of MY body! Oh the shame of it!!

So I, Lady P, do solemnly swear that from now on I will try to behave more appropriately as befits a lady of my social standing, and to keep one’s partying to a minimum - with the help of Daddy’s lawyers we can get some new non-disclosure agreements drawn up so that going forward, one is less of a problem for Mummy and Daddy, easing both the emotional and financial burden on them in the hope that once I have cleaned up my act my prince will come…With some judicious wording, the rumour and gossip-mongers will be cancelled faster than you can say ‘ginger prince’s Netflix contract’. Miaow....

Now if you’ll excuse me, one has a Eurovision after party to get to, and a Jubilee to prepare for.

Never a dull moment with Lady P. Nor a cheap one, well not if you believe everything Daddy says…

Toodle pip,

 

xx

**Team Heaven**

Maria and Daddy’s lawyers have given me the MOST bestest tips for erasing one’s online’s transgressions. If only the same could be done with people’s memories! However, I feel like I have been born again, with the slate wiped clean, and am as fresh as a daisy, raring to resume one’s travels without fear of being detained by immigration…

I also hear that my beloved ginger may be putting in an appearance later this month to celebrate with his Granny. I’ve yet to decide if I still wish to hover in the wings and pursue this avenue, but shall keep my options open for the foreseeable. One never knows if he’s finally tired of La La land and its attractions…Although strictly entre nous - and after my reflective break in India recently - I do wonder if I am the marrying kind - to a prince, ginger or otherwise - but please don’t tell Daddy that. I’m having FAR too much fun with my renewed post-lockdown joie de vivre!

I cannot wait to find out what adventure I shall hurtle to next!  Do your best/worst heavenly gals - you know me - open-minded to the very last! Mwah xx